Microsoft Word - FinalDissOct14.docx FRONTIERS OF PHILOSOPHY AND FLESH: MAPPING CONCEPTUAL METAPHOR IN WOMEN’S FRONTIER REVIVAL LITERATURE, 1880-1930 by Tiffany T.E. Johnstone M.A., Memorial University of Newfoundland, 2005 Hon. B.A., University of Toronto, 2004 A THESIS SUBMITTED IN PARTIAL FULFILLMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY in The Faculty of Graduate Studies (English) THE UNIVERSITY OF BRITISH COLUMBIA (Vancouver) October 2012 © Tiffany T.E. Johnstone, 2012   ii   Abstract In this dissertation, I identify a genre of travel writing that I refer to as frontier revival literature, which I show to be particularly important in negotiating North American ideas of imperialism, nationality, citizenship, gender, and race from 1880-1930. Meaning about cultural identity emerges through motifs of physical movement in frontier revival literature. I focus on how female frontier revival authors appropriate familiar motifs of frontier revival literature to promote women’s rights. Frontier revival literature consists of tourist accounts of travel in western Canada by Canadian and American authors who published in northeastern American cities and who wrote for a largely eastern, urban audience. I show how male frontier revival literature authors use American manifest destiny rhetoric in a western Canadian setting to promote ideas of an intercontinental west that, despite seeming to broadly represent North American progress, are highly gendered and racialized. I combine and adapt elements of feminist and conceptual metaphor theory as a way of reading how women writers of the frontier revival debate such ideas through representations of physical movement. I build on a diverse range of feminist theory to examine how images of the travelling female body negotiate and often contest dominant ideological messages about cultural identity in travel literature by men. I develop conceptual metaphor theory in order to identify a network of metaphors that I see as emerging in frontier revival literature. Focussing on three different chronological stages of frontier revival literature, I apply my methodology in comparative close readings of the following texts by Canadian and American authors: Sara Jeannette Duncan’s A Social Departure: How Orthodocia and I Went Around the   iii   World By Ourselves (1890) and Elizabeth Taylor’s “A Woman in the Mackenzie Delta” (1894- 95); Grace Gallatin’s A Woman Tenderfoot (1900) and Agnes Deans Cameron’s The New North (1909); and Mary Schäffer’s Old Indian Trails (1911), and Agnes Laut’s Enchanted Trails of Glacier Park (1926). I explore how these six female frontier revival authors challenge the dominant imperialist and masculinist perspectives of their male peers through representations of the female travelling body.   iv   Table of Contents Abstract ............................................................................................................................................ ii Table of Contents ........................................................................................................................... iv List of Figures ............................................................................................................................... viii List of Abbreviations .......................................................................................................................x   Acknowledgements......................................................................................................................... xi Dedication ..................................................................................................................................... xiii 1 Introduction. Women’s Movements: Charting the Female Body Across Borders and Disciplines ...............................................................................................................................1 1.1 Starting Out: Preliminary Thoughts..............................................................................1 1.2 “It was then that I wanted my wild free life back again:” Schäffer and Kipling..........3 1.3 Crossing Paths: Border Crossing and the Frontier Revival .........................................6 1.3.1 Interdisciplinarity .............................................................................................7 1.3.2 Cross-Border ....................................................................................................9 1.3.3 Frontier Revival Literature ............................................................................10 1.3.4 Manifest Destiny ............................................................................................12 1.4 Crossroads: Reading the Travelling Female Body ....................................................13 1.4.1 Conceptual Metaphor and Feminist Literary Analysis ..................................14 1.4.2 Feminist Perspectives ....................................................................................15 1.4.3 Conceptual Metaphor Theory ........................................................................16 1.4.4 The Body .......................................................................................................17 1.4.5 Framing ..........................................................................................................18 1.4.6 The Travelling Body ......................................................................................19   v   1.4.7 Bodies and Selves ..........................................................................................20 1.5 Step By Step: Chapter Outlines .................................................................................22 1.6 Conclusion: Where is here? .......................................................................................26 1.7 Notes to Chapter 1 ......................................................................................................28 2 Frontiers of Philosophy and Flesh: Staking Out A Feminist and Conceptual Metaphor Approach to Travel Literature............................................................................................29 2.1 Introduction: “horizon[s], and the limit of all endurance” .........................................29 2.2 Living Metaphors: Combining Feminist and Cognitive Approaches to Embodiment................................................................................................................35 2.3 Travelling Bodies: The Need for an Interdisciplinary Approach to Travel ...............44 2.4 Reading the Body in Motion: Metaphors of Frontier Revival ...................................49 2.5 “The Long Way Round:” The Frontier Revival Frame .............................................56 2.6 “Oh for a precedent!:” Re-Living the Frontier Frame ...............................................60 2.7 “So we planned a trip:” Close Reading .....................................................................63 2.8 Conclusion: Unearthing the Frontier Revival ............................................................67 2.9 Notes to Chapter 2 ......................................................................................................69 3 Making New Bodies Matter: Women Writers and the Frontier Revival .......................82 3.1 Introduction: “Getting as far as you can go” ..............................................................82 3.2 “Our East and Our West:” Locating Cross-Border Frontier Literature .....................86 3.3 The Frontier Revival and The Cross-Border West ....................................................90 3.4 Setting the Stages of Frontier Literature ....................................................................93 3.4.1 Exploration and Settlement ............................................................................93 3.4.2 Parkman, Turner, and Roosevelt ...................................................................96 3.4.3 Frederick Jackson Turner ..............................................................................97 3.4.4 Theodore Roosevelt .......................................................................................99   vi   3.4.5 Male American Frontier Revival Authors in Western Canada ....................100 3.5 “Oh for a Precedent:” Women’s Cross-Border Texts ..............................................101 3.6 Examples of the Frontier Revival Frame in Texts by Male Authors .......................107 3.7 The Frontier Revival Frame and Women’s Cross-Border Adventure Texts ........................................................................................................................111 3.8 Conclusion ...............................................................................................................116 3.9 Notes to Chapter 3 ....................................................................................................116 4 Social Departures: Retracing the Female Frontier Revival in Duncan’s A Social Departure (1890) and Taylor’s “A Woman in the Mackenzie Delta” (1894-95) ...........126 4.1 Introduction ..............................................................................................................126 4.2 Duncan .....................................................................................................................130 4.3 A Social Departure ..................................................................................................135 4.4 Taylor .......................................................................................................................147 4.5 “A Woman in the Mackenzie Delta” .......................................................................151 4.6 Conclusion ...............................................................................................................162 4.7 Notes to Chapter 4 ....................................................................................................165 5 New Sensations: Grace Gallatin’s A Woman Tenderfoot (1900) and Agnes Deans Cameron’s The New North (1909) ....................................................................................173 5.1 Introduction ..............................................................................................................173 5.2 Grace Gallatin’s A Woman Tenderfoot ....................................................................175 5.3 Cameron’s The New North ......................................................................................191 5.4 Conclusion ...............................................................................................................212 5.5 Notes to Chapter 5 ....................................................................................................215 6 Hunters of Peace: Mary Schäffer’s Old Indian Trails of The Canadian Rockies (1911) and Agnes Laut’s Enchanted Trails of Glacier Park (1926) ............................................219 6.1 Introduction ..............................................................................................................219   vii   6.2 Schäffer ....................................................................................................................221 6.3 The Horizons of Gender in Old Indian Trails .........................................................225 6.4 Wilderness Conservation in Old Indian Trails ........................................................238 6.5 Laut ..........................................................................................................................243 6.6 Intercontinental Movement/Change in Enchanted Trails of Glacier Park ..............246 6.7 Wilderness Conservation in Enchanted Trails of Glacier Park ..............................258 6.8 Conclusion ...............................................................................................................265 6.9 Notes to Chapter 6 ....................................................................................................267 7 Conclusion. Coming Full Circle: Reflecting on the Women of the Frontier Revival ................................................................................................................................274 7.1 The Problem of Restoring Order .............................................................................274 7.2 Corporeal Cartography: Mapping my Research on the Travelling Body.................276 7.2.1 Movement/Change: Theorizing the Travelling Body...................................276 7.2.2 Movement: Comparative Close Readings ....................................................280 7.2.3 Change: Reading the Travelling Body Over Time ......................................282 7.3 New Directions: Possibilities for Future Research .................................................284 7.4 As Far as You Can Go: Final Thoughts ..................................................................286 7.5 Notes to Chapter 7 ....................................................................................................287 Bibliography ................................................................................................................................298   viii   List of Figures Figure 1.1 Frame Diagram   ........................................................................................................288   Figure 3.1 Anon, “You Feel with Wonder that you are not doing Anything very Extraordinary at all,” In Sara Jeannette Duncan, A Social Departure: How Orthodocia and I Went Round the World By Ourselves, (London, Edinburgh, Dublin, and New York: Thomas Nelson & Sons 1890), 96....................................................................................................................................................289   Figure 5.1 E.M. Ashe, “I Could not Keep Away from his Hoofs,” Grace Gallatin, A Woman Tenderfoot, (New York: Doubleday, Page and Co, 1900), 309 .....................................................290 Figure 5.2 Agnes Deans Cameron, “A Magnificent Trophy.” Agnes Deans Cameron, The New North: Being Some Account of a Woman’s Journey through Canada to the Arctic by Agnes Deans Cameron, 1909, (New York: D. Appleton and Company, 1910), ii, Frontispiece ........................291 Figure 5.3 Agnes Deans Cameron. “Cannibal Louise, Her Little Girl, and Miss Cameron,” Agnes Deans Cameron, The New North: Being Some Account of a Woman’s Journey through Canada to the Arctic, 1909, (New York: D. Appleton and Company, 1910), 363........................292 Figure 6.1 Mary Schäffer, “Nibs and His Mistress,” Mary Schäffer, Old Indian Trails: Incidents of Camp and Trail Life, Covering Two Years’ Exploration through the Rocky Mountains of Canada, (Toronto: William Briggs; New York: G.P. Putnam’s Sons, 1911). n.pag., Frontispiece ........................................................................................................................................................293 Figure 6.2 Mary Schäffer, “When I Saw the Last of those Four Men I Knew What was Going to Happen,” Mary Schäffer, Old Indian Trails: Incidents of Camp and Trail Life, Covering Two Years’ Exploration through the Rocky Mountains of Canada, Mary Schäffer, (Toronto: William Briggs; New York: G.P. Putnam’s Sons, 1911), 279.....................................................................294 Figure 6.3 Mary Schäffer, “Sampson Beaver, His Squaw, and Little Frances Louise,” Mary Schäffer. Old Indian Trails: Incidents of Camp and Trail Life, Covering Two Years’ Exploration through the Rocky Mountains of Canada, (Toronto: William Briggs; New York: G.P. Putnam’s Sons, 1911), 181.............................................................................................................................295   ix   Figure 6.4 Agnes Laut, “The Last of Their Kind,” Agnes Laut, Enchanted Trails of Glacier Park, (New York: Robert M. McBride & Company, 1926), (LaVergne, TN: Kessinger Publishing, 2009), 21 ........................................................................................................................................296 Figure 6.5 Agnes Laut, “James Willard Schultz, Tail-Feathers Coming over the Hill and Eagle Child in Conference,” Agnes Laut, Enchanted Trails of Glacier Park, (New York: Robert M. McBride & Company, 1926), (LaVergne, TN: Kessinger Publishing, 2009), 149 .......................297   x   List of Abbreviations LES - LOCATIONAL EVENT STRUCTURE metaphor LS - LOCATIONAL SELF metaphor OS - OBJECTIVE STANDPOINT metaphor SC - SELF AS CONTAINER metaphor   xi   Acknowledgements It is a great pleasure to thank my supervisor, Sherrill Grace, a trailblazer, for her extraordinary mentorship over the last five years. I am grateful to Sherrill for her inspiring work on remapping Canadian literature, her practical advice in weekly meetings, her scrupulous feedback, as well as for giving me the opportunity to work with her on various projects. Sherrill has taught me the value of finding and believing in my own voice, of having opinions and letting them change, of keeping an eye on the smallest of details, and of always looking “onwards.” I would like to offer heartfelt thanks to my committee member Barbara Dancygier for introducing me to the field of cognitive linguistics and for always encouraging me to broaden my horizons. Her truly groundbreaking, hands on, and passionate commitment to guiding me and other young scholars on how to adapt our own interdisciplinary approaches to the field helped me to believe in my project and to enter into a dialogue with other scholars. I am deeply grateful to Jean Barman for joining my committee in the candidacy stage and for lending a fresh, original, and invaluable perspective on the history of western Canada and Canadian women’s literature. Jean provided me with significant momentum during the dissertation stage. Through motivational, astute, and in-depth advice, she encouraged me to focus my writing, while reminding me to always keep an eye on the big picture. This dissertation was partly funded by a grant from the Social Sciences and Humanities Council, which gave me the opportunity to pursue my research. I also appreciate the support that I have received from the University of British Columbia throughout my degree. I would like to thank the following professors, colleagues, and support staff whose help and feedback has had a direct impact on my doctoral work: Patsy Badir, Mary Chapman, Cognitive   xii   Linguistics Reading Group members, Sian Echard, Suzanna Egan, Carole Gerson, Green College members and staff, Heidi Hansson, Mark Johnson, Eva-Marie Kröller, Valerie Legge, Carol Lynn Moder, Laura Moss, Ronald Rompkey, Anka Ryall, Louise Soga, Peter Stockwell, Eve Sweetser, Linda Vecchi, Mark Vessey, Henning Howlid Wærp, and Dominique Yupangco. I would like to thank my coeditors of Bearing Witness: Perspectives on War and Peace from the Arts and Humanities (2012), Sherrill Grace and Patrick Imbert, as well as the contributors to the volume, and Mc-Gill-Queen’s University Press, for an incredible opportunity that I continued to learn from throughout the process of writing my dissertation. For professional assistance over the years, I would like to thank Leonora Angeles, Faith Balisch, Sarah Banting, Mike Borkent, Daniel Chartier, the Journal of Northern Studies, Jan Lermitte, Larry Mathews, Nash Mayfield, Andrea Most, Newfoundland and Labrador Studies, Nordlit, Katharine Patterson, Jaclyn Rea, Magdalene Redekop, Becki Ross, Annette Staveley, Janice Stewart, Tyson Stolte, and my students in WMST224A. I am indebted to dear friends, confidantes, and loved ones whose daily motivation has sustained and moved me during the dissertation process. Very special thanks go out to Laura Broadway, Petra Klupkova, Kostadin Kushlev, Emily Polak, Anne Stewart, and Scott Wannop. I am especially grateful to my family for being there from the beginning with kindness, generosity, patience, and inspiration. In particular, I thank my parents, Bonnie Johnstone and Frederick Johnstone, for their unshakeable guidance and support in life and work. I am also grateful to my sisters Zoe Johnstone-Guha and Oona Johnstone, my brothers-in-law Arnie Guha and Dirk Landgraf, my nephews Arun Johnstone-Guha and Anil Johnstone-Guha, as well as my grandparents and extended family for sharing in this journey.   xiii   Dedication I dedicate this thesis to my family for teaching me the value of journeys and of homes, and for their unwavering counsel from afar. I would like to honour the memory of my grandfather Job Taylor Bradbury (1915-2008) whose strength helped me to navigate the trip west and the different stages of my degree.   1   1 Introduction. Women’s Movements: Charting the Female Body Across Borders and Disciplines Then I suddenly realized that our own recently brushed up garments were frayed and worn and our buckskin coats had a savage cast, that my three companions looked like Indians, and that [Rudyard Kipling’s wife] gazing at us belonged to another world. It was then that I wanted my wild free life back again, yet step by step I was leaving it behind. -Mary Schäffer, Old Indian Trails, 78.1 1.1 Starting Out: Preliminary Thoughts In 1907, Mary Schäffer, a budding American wilderness artist and travel writer, writes of her prescient encounter with one of the most iconic turn of the century figures of travel writing and empire in North America and the British Commonwealth—Rudyard Kipling. In the above quote, she describes briefly passing a carriage in which she glimpses Kipling and his wife as she makes her way back to Banff after four months in the wilderness. Kipling himself documents this encounter in a letter to his sons, noting Schäffer’s uncanny ability to transform from a rugged wilderness traveller to an affluent cosmopolitan woman, clad in an evening gown, when he comes across her again later in the hotel (Qtd. in E.J. Hart 2). This crossing of paths between Schäffer and Kipling is a fitting example with which to introduce my discussion of how women travel writers at the turn of the twentieth century used images of the travelling body to evoke and often critique North American discourses of imperialism and frontier expansion. Their meeting, which clearly had an impact on both parties, points to important intersecting cultural, historical, and literary avenues that I address and explore in the following chapters. In my dissertation, I argue several key points about travel writing. Travel writing conveys meaning that can be read on the level of the body itself. This is particularly true of texts that emphasize the cultural significance of physical movement. Such meaning often occurs across boundaries of   2   geography, discipline, and genre and requires a new, interdisciplinary way of analyzing texts. Studying representations of the travelling body in turn of the twentieth-century frontier adventure texts by North Americans on both sides of the border allows me to identify a corpus of texts, which I refer to as the genre of frontier revival literature. Written by Canadians and Americans, this genre is aimed at an eastern, urban, cross-border audience. Frontier revival authors represent the westward travelling body as reliving American frontier values in western Canada, a site that they mythologize as the last North American frontier. Frontier revival texts by women are particularly rich in meaning as female authors tend to express ambivalence toward the imperialist connotations of the very physical motifs that they adopt. Because most types of physical mobility in travel literature are associated with the male body and with aspects of male experience, women travel writers negotiate with dominant cultural ideas by taking on such masculine modes of physical mobility. In this dissertation, I interpret six texts by Canadian and American female frontier revival authors that epitomize the way that women writers join and contest popular cross-border debates about empire, gender, and race through motifs of the travelling body. Tracking three chronological stages of frontier revival literature, I compare Sara Jeannette Duncan’s A Social Departure (1890) with Elizabeth Taylor’s “A Woman in the Mackenzie Delta” ” (1894-95), Grace Gallatin’s A Woman Tenderfoot (1900) with Agnes Deans Cameron’s A New North (1909),2 and Mary Schäffer’s Old Indian Trails (1911) with Agnes Laut’s Enchanted Trails of Glacier Park (1926). Identifying a new genre of texts requires a new way of reading and I propose and apply a new methodology for studying these texts. I combine feminist theory with cognitive linguistic scholarship on conceptual metaphor and frame theory to study the travelling body in frontier revival literature. Work on conceptual metaphor shows how language and thought consist of metaphorical mappings between our daily, lived experience in our bodies and abstract concepts.3 I build on this scholarship by   3   borrowing a set of conceptual metaphors and showing how they occur in literary texts and how their usage is affected by experiential and discursive factors relating to gender, ethnicity, ideology, and national affiliation. Feminist work on travel literature (Grace; Mills, Discourses of Difference; Pratt; Roy; Sidonie Smith, Moving), and body and autobiography theory (Butler; Lutes; Sidonie Smith and Watson) explores how women inevitably reiterate and negotiate with dominant, gendered cultural norms when representing their lives. I develop such work by showing how this negotiation with dominant cultural ideas can be read and analyzed through a structured set of metaphors that emerge on the level of the body. Combining feminist literary theory with conceptual metaphor theory provides a more structured literary close reading than a feminist literary analysis on its own would allow and extends the possibilities of applying conceptual metaphor theory to literary close readings. In this introduction, I establish and apply some of the main ideas that are central to the genre, texts, scholarship, and methodology of my dissertation. I start off with a brief analysis of the above passage by Schäffer in order to show how I apply some of the bigger concepts that I am addressing through literary close reading. I then explain my interdisciplinary approach and situate my work in preliminary, broad strokes within overlapping fields of scholarship. I also clarify some of the key terms that I will be using in the dissertation such as frontier revival literature, manifest destiny, cross-border, metaphor, frame, the body, and I provide a brief outline of the main chapters. 1.2 “It was then that I wanted my wild free life back again:” Schäffer and Kipling And then we struck the highway and on it a carriage with [Kipling and his wife] in it! Oh! The tragedy of the comparison! The woman’s gown was blue. I think her hat contained a white wing. I only saw it all in one awful flash from the corner of my right eye, and I remember distinctly that she had gloves on. Then I suddenly realized that our own recently brushed up garments were frayed and worn and our buckskin coats had a savage cast, that   4   my three companions looked like Indians, and that the lady gazing at us belonged to another world. It was then that I wanted my wild free life back again, yet step by step I was leaving it behind. -Mary Schäffer, Old Indian Trails, 78. This meeting of American and British travel writers in the Canadian Rockies exemplifies the international interest in western Canada as a mythic last frontier setting at the turn of the twentieth century. Their meeting just as Schäffer “struck the highway” (78) associates the popular travel routes in western Canada with imperialist ideas about progress and westward expansion in Canadian, British, and American travel writing. Their brief mutual awareness as they pass along the road implies a shared participation (despite diverging national backgrounds) in mythologizing western Canada as a site of imperialist expansion. Kipling’s presence in this passage evokes British imperialist rhetoric about such expansion. As an American, Schäffer represents the imperialist boom in the United States in the early twentieth century and American interests in travelling northwestward at that time. However, Schäffer describes this “flash” encounter as brief, random, and dislocating so as to emphasize the slipperiness of the very ideas of empire that they each partake in. As scholars such as Mary Louise Pratt and Edward Said have pointed out, travel writing is intimately tied to ideas of empire building. However, it is important to inquire into how travel writing conveys ideas of empire when national borders themselves are in flux. While this may seem like a question more suited to contemporary questions about travel in an era of globalization, it also strongly applies to the fluidity of national borders and identities in North America in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century. Schäffer’s sense of conflict in this passage epitomizes the increased ambivalence and self-reflexivity of women frontier revival authors toward the very imperialist symbolism that they evoke in the wilderness.   5   This passage indicates how bodies perform the tightrope walk of imperialist discourse in frontier revival literature by connecting travel to imperialist expansion, while having to negotiate slippery concepts of gender, race, citizenship, borders, and nationhood. Schäffer describes this moment as a brief mutual glimpse between herself and the Kiplings. She refers to the “the tragedy of the comparison” between her appearance and that of Kipling’s wife. The latter is portrayed in a static and confined setting in a carriage and in conventionally feminine attire, while Schäffer is described as riding horseback and appearing rugged, masculine, and Aboriginal. Schäffer’s embarrassment at not living up to conventional standards of femininity suggests at least a partial investment in a shared cultural perspective with which she either cannot or will not comply. She associates these dominant cultural standards with the appearance of urban, affluent, eastern, Anglo-Saxon heritage and of fixed gender roles, all of which she abandons on the trail. By referring to this encounter with Kipling in this corporeal manner, Schäffer emphasizes the extent to which their shared identification with ideas of empire occurs more so on the level of the body (through identifiers of race, class, and gender) than according to specific national or geographical affiliations. While Kipling himself is an elusive, background figure in this passage, Schäffer focusses on his wife as a perplexing physical counterpart to herself. Her description of their shared mutual glance, while occupying different “world[s],” suggests that Schäffer’s conflicts about her own gender identity force her to be more self-conscious about the fluidities and ambiguities of the travelling body. Her perspective as a woman, along with the unruliness of her female body in this passage, means that she cannot take this imperialist perspective for granted, but rather must question it. Not being able to physically pass for a white, Anglo-Saxon traveller, or to fit within recognizable gender roles, means that she cannot merely assume and impose the same kind of cultural authority as her male peers. Schäffer’s sudden desire to maintain her alternative appearance and return to the trail in her statement that “[i]t was   6   then that I wanted my wild free life back again, yet step by step I was leaving it behind” (78) represents her conflict with the fixed, unquestioning identification with imperialist assumptions about gender and race in the texts of male travel writers. Ironically, Schäffer describes the return to Banff and to the more conventional boundaries of gender and race of which she is reminded by the Kiplings as a step backwards, and thus as a kind of cultural regression, as opposed to the restoration of her cultural authority, which readers would expect at the end of her text. Schäffer still evokes ideas of progress through images of linear movement, change, and allusions to “freedom.” However, for Schäffer, as for the other women discussed in this dissertation, progress is ironically portrayed as a process of escaping the restrictions of their own cultural backgrounds on the trail, as opposed to asserting any sort of national affiliation and returning home. Like her female contemporaries, she suggests a more fluid relationship to geographical and national boundaries and an awareness of the performativity of the imperialist role that she assumes as a travel writer. 1.3 Crossing Paths: Border Crossing and the Frontier Revival Because of the interdisciplinary nature of my work, it is necessary to explain how I situate myself in relation to overlapping fields of research, and to clarify my use of certain terms that are central to the dissertation. Before I introduce the interdisciplinarity of my methodology, in which I bridge feminist and conceptual metaphor theory, I briefly address how my work is also interdisciplinary in relation to several overlapping fields such as history, literary scholarship, Canadian and American literary studies, fiction and non-fiction, and visual studies.   7   1.3.1 Interdisciplinarity I draw on various different fields of scholarship relating to literature, history, and cultural studies in my study of women’s frontier revival literature. I develop historical and literary scholarship by focussing on a particular historical context of authors from both sides of the border who were writing about western Canada and publishing in eastern American cities. My historical focus allows me to think outside of the divisions between American and Canadian literature by examining how writers on both sides of the border participated in similar types of writing—more specifically how American discourses of westward expansion were adopted by Canadian and American authors to appeal to broader ideas of continental expansion that would have been familiar to readers on both sides of the border. I look at texts by Canadian writers who published in the American publishing industry and who drew heavily on American rhetoric about westward expansion. I also explore American authors who travelled and sometimes even lived across the border in Western Canada. I situate my work within Canadian literary studies because I am interested primarily in how American discourses were imposed upon Canadian settings and how Canadian writers were influenced by their engagement with the American publishing industry and their involvement in a cross-border genre. I draw on scholarship relating to both Canadian and American travel literature, but I aim to contribute in particular to existing scholarship on Canadian women travellers (Buchanan et al.; Buss; Goldman; Grace; Roy) and Canadian literature from a more cross-border perspective (Barman, Constance; Doyle; Higham and Thacker; Mount). Thinking outside the more conventional boundaries of Canadian and American literature allows me to study how discourses about eastern and western regions in North America often play an equally, if not more, important role in shaping travel writing, than national affiliation. I build on scholarship that focusses on literature in western Canada from a cross-border perspective (Barman, Constance; Doyle; Georgi- Findlay; Higham and Thacker; Jameson and McManus; Morrison; Pagh). I also combine literary   8   analysis with the study of visual images in my discussion of several photographs and illustrations in the primary texts. Because of my focus on the body, it is important to take into account how representations of physical movement occur through both text and visual images. In particular, I incorporate scholarship on photography into my close readings (Barthes; Lippard; MacFarlane; Sontag). Another interdisciplinary feature of my work is my study of a range of primary texts including journalism (Taylor), autobiographical travel guides (Cameron; Gallatin; Laut; Schäffer), and a semi-fictionalized, first person travel memoir that resembles a novel (Duncan). While these texts are not often viewed in connection to one another, I see them as united in their skillful engagement with the cultural background, metaphors, and ideas of frontier revival literature. There are several contemporary cultural examples both in academic and non-academic spheres of an increased Canadian interest in interdisciplinary perspectives on representations of westward travel in North America at the turn of the last century. From October 2009 to January 2010, the Vancouver Art Gallery featured a major exhibit called Expanding Horizons: Painting and Photography of American and Canadian Landscape 1860-1918. This incorporation of art from both sides of the border indicates an increased tendency to examine Canadian literature, history, and art as intertwined with that of the United States. Representations of the landscape, westward expansion, and travel are crucial to the arts on both sides of the border and this exhibit exemplifies a growing public recognition of the ways that Canadian and American representations of the west are intimately connected. In October 2010, Vancouver Opera staged Lillian Alling by John Murrell and John Estacio based on the real story of a female Russian immigrant who is said to have trekked from British Columbia back to Russia in the 1920s. Similarly, in 2005, the Mina Hubbard Centennial Celebrations in Labrador hosted a combination of academic- and community- based events commemorating Mina Hubbard’s well known travel book, A Woman’s Way through   9   Unknown Labrador. Both Lillian Alling and Mina Hubbard can be seen as international female travellers (Alling travelled from New York to British Columbia and supposedly back to Siberia and Hubbard was Canadian, but moved to New York state where she trained as a nurse and later married and lived with American travel writer Leonidas Hubbard). However, their journeys have also recently been recovered and adopted as vital parts of Canadian history. Also, new editions of texts by women travellers who wrote about their journeys in Western Canada, including Agnes Deans Cameron, Grace Gallatin, and Mary Schäffer, along with academic studies of women travel writers in Canada (Buchanan et al; Grace; E.J. Hart; Skidmore), indicate renewed cultural interest in women’s travel in Canada at the time. This recent interest opens up many new opportunities to discuss the way women travel writers at the time engage in complex, cross-border debates about ideas of gender, ethnicity, empire, and national identity that were part of Canadian literature and culture at the time. 1.3.2 Cross-Border It is important to define my use of the term cross-border to situate my work within recent scholarship that approaches Canadian literature and history from a transnational or comparative literature perspective. I use the term cross-border to indicate literal border crossing by Canadian and American writers who crossed the border either for temporary travel, for work and publishing opportunities, or to live. All of the women I study are cross-border in that the Canadian writers travelled, published or lived in the United States and the American writers travelled, and in the case of Schäffer, lived in Canada. I use this term as well throughout my dissertation to refer to the cross-cultural and literary influences that these writers had on readers and writers on both sides of   10   the Canadian and American border. The term border is of course a slippery one, especially at the end of the nineteenth century when the Canadian/American border had only been fully decided upon a half century earlier and there was considerable movement both north and south across this territorial divide. It is beyond the scope of this dissertation to explore more fully the legal ramifications of border crossing at the time as well as cultural attitudes toward the border.4 However, I use the term cross-border to acknowledge, as do the authors I am studying, the physical and cultural crossing of borders that occurs in their work. While all of these authors blur the boundaries between Canadian and American identity in their texts, they remain aware that they engage in acts of literal and symbolic border-crossing and it is with an awareness of ambiguities inherent to their border-crossing that I use the term. Recent comparative studies (Higham and Thacker; Morrison) show how Canadian and American literary histories are intimately connected and must be studied in relation to one another. As Thacker notes, this is particularly important to the study of Canadian literature because the collective experience of being adjacent—of being similar and proximal, and yet different and separate from the United States—is a fundamental aspect of Canadian culture (Thacker 11). I build on recent more comparative approaches to Canadian literature by showing how a comparative approach to women’s travel literature offers particular insight into cross-border literature at the time. 1.3.3 Frontier Revival Literature Frontier revival literature is another important term that I use frequently in my dissertation because it helps to situate my work within scholarship on turn of the twentieth-century cross-border print culture. I use this term to refer to a specific, and previously unexplored, genre of texts to which the writers that I   11   study belong. This genre is characterized by first person tourist adventure accounts that were published in the northeastern American fin-de-siècle publishing industry. They were written by and for urban easterners on both sides of the Canadian/American border and in the style of east coast journalism. These texts are set in western Canada and often employ distinctly American discourses of cultural progress. They describe western Canada as a site in which to relive and revive what I see as a somewhat diluted, popularized version of American manifest destiny rhetoric that refers more to the broader North American continental expansion of white, Anglo-Saxon culture than to previous culturally and historically specific versions of manifest destiny rhetoric.5 Most importantly, frontier revival texts contain recurring motifs of physical movement. My work on frontier revival literature builds on earlier work by Canadian literature and print culture scholars on Canadian expatriate writers who published in the States (Barman, Constance; Doyle; Mount) and American writers who wrote about Canada (Doyle; Johnstone; Schmidt). I build on this previous scholarship by showing that turn of the century travel texts by Canadians and Americans about western Canada epitomize a nexus of Canadian writers publishing in the United States and Americans writing about Canada. Because of the cross-border nature of this genre, it offers new insights into the ways that Americans represented Canada at the time and how Canadians participated in such representations. Important recent work has also been done on turn of the twentieth-century women’s journalism and print culture in Canada (Barman, Constance; Doyle; Fiamengo; Gerson; Lang) and the United States (Lutes), as well as on Canadian women’s involvement in the American publishing industry (Barman, Constance; Doyle; Gerson), and on women’s cross-border writing about western regions of North America (Georgi-Findlay; Jameson and McManus; Pagh). Such recent scholarship has shed light on how women on both sides of the border at the time took advantage of new opportunities for women in the North American publishing industry. I expand this work by identifying an actual genre in which women on both sides of the border   12   participated, in order to allow for the literature of such women to be explored through literary close reading. By identifying a genre that was developed by male authors but in which women participated, I can also explore how women on both sides of the border engaged in dominant cultural discourses in relation to their cross-border male peers and how they refashioned a masculinist discourse to suit their feminist goals. 1.3.4 Manifest Destiny It is also important to clarify my use of the term manifest destiny, which I often employ as a kind of short hand for the admittedly complex ideological underpinnings of frontier revival literature. Manifest destiny is a loaded term and as with the study of borders, is a whole topic in and of itself that is discussed at great length and with great variation by scholars of literature, history, and social sciences. The term has also entered popular parlance in a way that is somewhat removed from particular historical origins and usages, similar to other pervasive catch phrases such as the American dream. As historians point out, American manifest destiny rhetoric developed in the early nineteenth century as a way of justifying and promoting American territorial expansion as a divinely ordained cultural mission (Greenberg; Kaplan; Nugent). There was a stage of heightened American imperialism at the turn of the twentieth century that saw a resurgence of earlier, nineteenth-century manifest destiny rhetoric about the shared cultural mission of westward expansion (Nugent xv). This rhetoric was applied to frontier regions of Canada through journalism, travel literature, and popular fiction (Bloom; Doyle; Johnstone “Language”), and was particularly useful in literary portraits of western Canada (Doyle). Recent feminist scholarship on American imperialism also demonstrates that nineteenth-century manifest destiny rhetoric was highly racialized and gendered (Greenberg; Romero; Wexler). It is important to   13   note that my discussion of manifest destiny focusses not on the complex cultural specificity and evolution of this term throughout the nineteenth century, but rather on its popularized reemergence at the turn of the twentieth century in adventure literature about western Canada. Specifically, I argue that the movement of the travelling body in frontier revival literature is a kind of corporeal short hand for the underpinning ideological assumptions of manifest destiny—namely that American westward expansion is a shared cultural mission imbued with ideas of spiritual duty and redemption. The travelling body in frontier revival literature by men (Garland; Murray; Ralph) represents ideas of cultural progress and expansion in western Canada through the white male body; however, this gender bias is not acknowledged or addressed in an in-depth way by male authors. The authors claim to speak on behalf of North Americans in general so that manifest destiny refers to North American, rather than just American, progress. However, the journey is so implicitly yet pervasively gendered and racialized in these texts that it becomes clear that such cross-border ideas of progress refer to the expansion of a masculinist, white, Anglo-Saxon status quo on both sides of the border. Female frontier revival authors reveal the biases in frontier revival literature by describing their conflicted female subject positions through images of the female travelling body. I use the term manifest destiny to describe gendered and racialized ideas of divinely ordained American westward expansion that reemerged in popular literature about western Canada at the turn of the twentieth century through images of the travelling body. 1.4 Crossroads: Reading the Travelling Female Body It is also necessary to briefly introduce the interdisciplinary methodology that I develop for close readings based on aspects of feminist and conceptual metaphor theory. I also clarify some of the key terms that I use in the dissertation relating to embodiment.   14   1.4.1 Conceptual Metaphor and Feminist Literary Analysis The main aspect of my methodological interdisciplinarity occurs in the bridging of cognitive linguistics work in conceptual metaphor with feminist theory and women’s literature. This methodology emerges not out of the desire to indulge in theoretical acrobatics, but rather out of the need to find a way of reading that can adequately interpret the rich layers of meaning in these primary texts. As I explain in the following chapters, feminist theory on the body and autobiography that informs my study of women travel writers provides a broader theoretical vocabulary with which to explore how women’s identities reiterate, perform, and talk back to dominant cultural norms (Butler; Lutes; Sidonie Smith and Watson). Work on women’s travel literature—particularly in the field of Canadian literature—skillfully identifies the way that women travel writers express ambivalence in their identification with discourses of imperialism due to their conflicting female subject positions (Buchanan et al.; Buss; Goldman; Grace; Roy). In my dissertation, I attempt to ground these broader theoretical debates in a more structured approach to literary close readings of women’s travel texts. Conceptual metaphor theory is an interdisciplinary field that lends itself to developing new forms of literary close reading. Work on conceptual metaphor theory (Lakoff and Johnson; Lakoff and Turner; Semino; Stockwell; Sweetser) identifies networks of metaphors that stem from bodily experience, which I argue are especially helpful in understanding literary texts about the body. It is important to note that just as my interdisciplinary interest in historical scholarship and in American literature ultimately serves my primary interest in Canadian literature, so too does my interdisciplinary interest in conceptual metaphor support my feminist literary perspective. It is beyond the scope of my dissertation to dig further into the kinds of data analysis that characterizes linguistics work. What I do address in my dissertation are the ways that aspects of conceptual metaphor theory can be incorporated within a feminist literary analysis of travel literature. By borrowing aspects of conceptual metaphor theory, I can conduct a more structured close   15   reading than a feminist literary analysis offers on its own. I hope to contribute to conceptual metaphor work by shedding light on how such metaphors occur in literary texts and in relation to discourses of gender, ethnicity, ideology, and national affiliation. 1.4.2 Feminist Perspectives I build on several key ideas in the work of feminist body and autobiography theorists. In Bodies that Matter, Judith Butler argues that bodies perform cultural meaning so as to achieve “cultural intelligibility” (2). The travelling body in frontier revival literature offers a kind of physical template by which to symbolically perform ideas fundamental to manifest destiny. Because there is no way of referring to the body that is not mediated by culturally specific discourses (Butler 10), I argue that it is important to question the ideological biases in genres of literature in which the body is prominently featured. Butler also cautions that the nature of performativity is to conceal itself (12) and this is also an important reminder for scholars of travel literature. I show how female frontier revival authors are more aware of the performativity and underlying cultural biases of travel literature than their male peers. Autobiography theorists Sidonie Smith and Julia Watson raise important questions about female self- representation, asking “if male representations of woman project her as the self-contented, arrested, and arresting Other, what might it mean for the woman artist to take herself . . . as subject?” (Sidonie Smith and Watson, “Mapping” 13). I show that women frontier revival authors are writing in response to a genre that prioritizes masculinist perspectives on ideas of cultural progress. Feminist scholarship on travel literature explores the conflicting ways that women travel writers identify with dominant imperialist discourses (Grace; Mills, Discourses of Difference; Pratt; Roy; Sidonie Smith, Moving). The burgeoning and increasingly prominent field of women’s travel within Canada explores these questions   16   and sees them as central to Canadian women’s literature (Buchanan; Buss; Goldman; Grace; Roy). I seek to contribute to this field by focussing on how the conflicting subject positions of female travellers emerge through the female body. By highlighting their female perspectives on the travelling body, they raise questions about how ideas of progress, while seeming to be broadly representative, actually prioritize the white male body and white, masculinist cultural perspectives. The main contribution that I hope to make to feminist literary theory lies in the structured and detailed way that I read meaning in representations of the travelling body. 1.4.3 Conceptual Metaphor Theory For this more structured reading of the female travelling body, I borrow certain key methods from cognitive linguistics work on conceptual metaphor theory. Conceptual metaphor theory explores how we understand abstract concepts through metaphor and how such metaphors emerge from our daily lived experiences in the body (Semino 30). Conceptual metaphor theorists offer specific metaphors that they show to be prevalent in thought, language, and literature (Freeman; Lakoff and Johnson; Lakoff and Turner; Semino; Stockwell; Sweetser). In particular, I draw on key metaphors introduced in the work of George Lakoff and Mark Johnson including the influential texts, Metaphors we Live by and Philosophy in the Flesh. For instance, in the LOCATIONAL EVENT STRUCTURE metaphor, key mappings include States are Bounded Locations, Causes are Movements, Difficulties are Impediments to Motion, and Purposes are Destinations (Lakoff and Johnson, Philosophy 274). I show how metaphors about location are important in travel literature because authors convey ideas of cultural progress according to physical descriptions of their movement. Metaphors of containment such as the SELF AS A CONTAINER and OBJECTIVE STANDPOINT metaphors are also very important because travellers   17   often describe States of progress according to movement in between, through, or at the edge of Bounded Locations. My use of these metaphors offers a specific and detailed method of close reading. Aside from providing a more grounded and detailed feminist analysis, my approach also contributes to conceptual metaphor theory by exploring how conceptual metaphors occur in literary texts and in the context of specific cultural discourses relating to gender, ethnicity, ideology, and national affiliation. 1.4.4 The Body Because I am incorporating these somewhat different theoretical approaches in my work, it is important to clarify my thoughts on the body and on embodiment—words that carry different connotations in feminist and conceptual metaphor circles. As Elizabeth Hart notes, “[e]mbodiment, in Butler’s scenario, is thus something that happens to the body, is an imposition upon the body by culture” (Elizabeth Hart 30), while according to cognitive linguists, “language and discourse are themselves . . . cognitively embodied” (Elizabeth Hart 31). Feminist and cognitive linguistic approaches to the body are part of two quite distinct and in some ways opposing disciplines that could be compared or contrasted in many different ways. My particular study of female frontier revival authors falls primarily into the fields of feminist literary analysis and the study of women’s travel literature in Canada. My overall interest is in how women negotiate specific discourses of cultural progress through the female body in a way that I show to be more complex and self-reflexive than their male peers. However, as Elizabeth Hart notes, feminist theorists focus on how abstract ideas affect the body in a way that ignores how bodily experience affects the way meaning is made. Like conceptual metaphor theorists, I am interested in the way that experiential knowledge about our bodily experience contributes to shared patterns of language and I adapt conceptual metaphor theory   18   as the specific methodology with which to apply my literary analysis. I argue that the female travelling body is rich in meaning that can only be fully grasped through the ideological framework of feminist literary analysis and the more specific methodology of conceptual metaphor theory. I explore how the meaning of the travelling body tends to be more rich and self-reflexive in texts by women and I support my reading by locating and analyzing it through the structured network of intersecting conceptual metaphors in descriptions of physical movement in these texts. 1.4.5 Framing I also borrow the concept of framing from cognitive linguists as a way of helping to reconcile feminist and conceptual metaphor perspectives. I build on Charles Fillmore’s approach to frames as “any system of concepts related in such a way that to understand any one of them you have to understand the whole structure in which it fits” (“Frame Semantics” 111). Developing Fillmore’s approach to frames, Sweetser and Fauconnier provide an example of the common frame of “a commercial event,” including the roles of “buyer,” “seller,” and “goods” (5). In my own work, I envision literary frames as a meeting point between the two intersecting realms of conceptual metaphor and cultural discourse. I interpret frames as general knowledge structures based on motifs of physical movement that on their own do not convey specific conceptual metaphors or specific cultural discourses. When certain conceptual metaphors recur together in specific cultural settings they create knowledge structures that I see as the basis of literary genres. I identify what I refer to as a frontier revival frame in the texts that I study and see this frame as consisting of several physical motifs including: 1) a metonymic eastern travelling body; 2) a cyclical northwestern journey; 3) a struggle in the wilderness (loss and renewal of control); and 4) a return home (with a final renewal of control) (See Fig 1.1). In other words, frontier revival   19   authors use a network of specific conceptual metaphors in a specific historical, cultural, and literary setting so as to create a general frame in the minds of readers. When frontier revival authors draw on basic physical components such as a cyclical journey, they instantly trigger readers’ shared experiential knowledge that underlies conceptual metaphor, as well as a whole set of specific cultural discourses. 1.4.6 The Travelling Body When I refer to the travelling body in frontier revival literature I am talking about what I see as the frame concept of the travelling body in the frontier revival frame. When individual travellers describe their physical movements in frontier revival literature, they do so in a way that triggers a set of conceptual metaphors as well as a set of cultural beliefs and ideas about travel. One of the interesting aspects of exploring conceptual metaphors in literature is the way that metaphors occur with variation in literature according to the specific body type of the author and the types of cultural discourses the author draws upon when describing physical movements. In this way, a varied group of authors can trigger, for instance, the travelling body of the frontier revival frame, while using it in different ways with a great diversity of individual perspectives and cultural inflection. Female frontier revival authors use the travelling body of the frame in ways that both evoke and also contest aspects of the work of their male peers. I interpret individual bodies as always negotiating frames that include, on the one hand, experientially based conceptual metaphor, and on the other hand, complex cultural discourses. In my work, when I refer to the body, I am usually referring to an archetypal, metonymic representation of bodies that individual travellers represent in their texts—one that exists on the level of frames. The body of the frontier revival frame that I discuss in my work is not the body of cognitive linguistics that usually refers to a more purely experiential realm underlying specific linguistic examples. This is   20   because I am exploring a frame concept of the body that consists of both a network of conceptual metaphors, as well as a very specific historical and literary context. My discussion of the body is also not the body of feminist theorists that is usually discussed as enacting cultural ideas without any structured or shared meaning emerging on the level of the body itself. My discussion of the body differs from this latter approach because I recognize a structured language emerging from the body that exists in the much larger and undeniable cultural context that is still my main concern as a feminist literary scholar. I interpret the body according to a specific set of conceptual metaphors, while also paying close attention to the performativity of such metaphors in specific cultural settings. I refer to the travelling body as a specific frame concept. The travelling body in the frontier revival frame represents a whole specific set of conceptual metaphors and cultural discourses that connect movement to self-definition. 1.4.7 Bodies and Selves I pay attention to the self-reflexivity that emerges when women use experiential metaphors differently than their male peers. I show how they call attention to the metaphoricity and cultural performativity of such metaphors. This tension between the body (as a universal source of abstract knowledge) and the body (as a cultural signifier that limits what they can do) becomes a central point of tension and also agency in these texts. It allows them to access the body as a kind of common language that gives them entry into public, masculine fields of activity. It also allows them to expand cultural attitudes toward the body to show that ideas relating to gender and ethnicity are more fluid and open to interpretation than previously thought. More specifically, when analyzing examples from texts such as the previously quoted passage from Mary Schäffer’s Old Indian Trails, I show how the author renegotiates dominant discourse through   21   conceptual metaphor. For instance, Schäffer’s comment that “[i]t was then that I wanted my wild free life back again, yet step by step I was leaving it behind” (78) connects her physical movement in the wilderness to a transformative psychological experience. By describing her “wild free life” as a physical object or location that she wants “back again,” she calls on the LOCATIONAL EVENT STRUCTURE metaphor to map the Location of being in the wilderness onto a State of freedom. She also describes Movement away from the Location of the wilderness as a Change in her State of self through a reduction of freedom. In particular, the image of her forward Movement away from this Location/State implies ambivalence toward the traditional Destination/Goal6 of the Change that comes with returning to civilization and restoring the frontier revival traveller’s cultural control. Schäffer’s idealization of the freedom of the wilderness evokes the Impediments/Difficulties of the struggle in the wilderness in frontier revival literature. However, unlike her male peers, Schäffer idealizes the struggle and loss of control in the wilderness as a site of rare personal freedom that she sees as more interesting and valuable than reasserting any sort of cultural control. As well, by depicting her forward Movement away from the wilderness as a negative form of Change, she both evokes and questions the recognizable cyclical motif of frontier revival literature in which the final Destination of returning home asserts the Goal of restoring cultural progress. Schäffer’s idealization of the wilderness as a Location/State that she is forced to leave behind in the formulaic return to civilization questions the very ideas of progress that she ostensibly supports by completing the physical cycle and narrative arc of her journey. Schäffer’s disconcerting glimpse of herself through the eyes of the Kiplings illustrates the fluidity of the subject positions of female travellers who exist uncomfortably between different Locations/States on their travels. Just as Schäffer is unable to live and represent the travelling body with the unquestioning authority of male figures such as Kipling, she is neither able nor willing to embody conventional, “static” (Sidonie Smith and Watson, “Mapping” 13) ideals of femininity as represented by Kipling’s   22   wife. Completing the journey and undergoing the struggle in the wilderness, Schäffer takes on a familiar heroic role in the mind of the reader; however, this heroism becomes inflected with her own gendered ambivalence toward the very ideas of progress that she performs in the wilderness. 1.5 Step By Step: Chapter Outlines In chapter 2, “Frontiers of Philosophy and Flesh: Staking Out A Feminist and Conceptual Metaphor Approach to Travel Literature,” I offer a detailed explanation of how I use and adapt feminist and conceptual metaphor approaches in my work. I situate my work in relation to feminist and conceptual metaphor scholarship and show how I build upon both of these approaches so as to do a detailed analysis that feminist or cognitive linguistics close readings would not provide on their own. I explain my approach to specific ideas such as embodiment, conceptual metaphor and frame and offer a detailed explanation of the conceptual metaphors that I see as connected in the works that I study. I also draw on specific examples of work by male and female frontier revival authors to show how I apply this approach to literary close readings of frontier revival authors. In chapter 3, “Making New Bodies Matter: Women Writers and the Frontier Revival,” I look at the bigger cultural, historical, and literary picture in order to contextualize the texts that I study. I explain that these six writers were part of a much bigger literary movement on both sides of the border that consisted of authors who published in the northeastern United States and who wrote journalistic adventure literature about western Canada with a strong focus on the body for a cross- border audience. I develop my use of the terms frontier revival and cross-border and explore in further detail the ideological concepts of cultural progress that such texts touched upon. I also   23   explain and justify my particular selection of authors and the way that I have grouped them. I choose six authors—three Canadians and three Americans—whose work is representative of the main aspects of frontier revival literature and who epitomize popular female responses to dominant discourses of the day. Devoting each of the three principal chapters to a comparison between an American and Canadian author of a similar time period, I explore how women on both sides of the border engaged with similar textual strategies and show how these strategies changed over time with innovations such as photography and with increased social opportunities for women. I also use examples of male and female frontier revival authors to explain the way that these texts fit into a particular genre and how the texts by women authors depart from those of their male peers. In chapter 4, “Social Departures: Retracing the Female Frontier Revival in Duncan’s A Social Departure (1890) and Taylor’s “A Woman in the Mackenzie Delta” (1894-95), I compare Canadian Sara Jeanette Duncan’s travel text with that of American Elizabeth Taylor. Writing in the 1890s, these earlier authors epitomize the forefront of female frontier revival literature. They document their innovative journeys into areas of northwestern Canada that were just beginning to become accessible to types of tourist travel that were more convenient for women travellers. I discuss Duncan in particular as a Canadian literary icon and reflect on how she explores the transnational aspects of Canadian identity of her time through the disruptive medium of the female body. Taylor is an example of a writer who, despite being relatively unheard of in current academic circles, is connected to important literary figures of the day and can shed light on the literary networks behind frontier revival literature. At the vanguard of popular east coast women’s journalism and discourses about the new woman, these texts also emphasize the marriage between the more dominant imperialist motifs of frontier adventure writing and the increased prominence   24   and visibility of women writers and debates about women’s rights. I discuss how the female travelling body disrupts conventional motifs of the frontier revival frame in these texts. For instance, the authors express a heightened state of novelty and excitement at their personal freedom as opposed to national affiliation on the trail. They also express ambivalence toward conventional Destinations/Goals in frontier revival literature. Chapter 5 is entitled “New Sensations: Grace Gallatin’s A Woman Tenderfoot (1900) and Agnes Deans Cameron’s The New North (1909). I discuss these texts as written at the height of frontier revival literature and drawing on increasingly recognizable motifs of female frontier revival literature. Both women are much more outspoken in their feminist beliefs and present more unapologetically gendered and defiant personae in their texts. They both present sensationalized images of the female body in ways that explicitly disrupt and challenge gendered and racialized ideas of progress in frontier revival literature. Gallatin’s text is notable in the viscerally direct way that she describes herself as guiding the reader through the text and showing women how to gain social mobility through increased physical mobility on the trail. Her marriage to Canadian Ernest Seton-Thompson and literary collaborations with him, as well as her extensive connections in transnational literary and suffragist circles, make Gallatin a compelling literary and historical figure who effectively demonstrates the feminist counter-perspective on male dominated discourse about a cross-border west. Cameron is also much more explicit and bold than Duncan and Taylor in combining a mixture of cross-border imperialist discourse with a promotion of the rights of women and Aboriginal people. Her use of photography and her foregrounding of the female body in poses that blur categories of gender and ethnicity force the reader to question the ideas of progress that she espouses and to realize that such progress is open to interpretation.   25   In chapter 6, “Hunters of Peace: Mary Schäffer’s Old Indian Trails (1911) and Agnes Laut’s Enchanted Trails of Glacier Park (1926), I address two later texts by American Mary Schäffer and Canadian Agnes Laut. I show how these texts develop recognizable motifs in female frontier revival literature such as prioritizing individual physical freedoms, rejecting conventional Destinations/Goals, and existing between different Locations/States. Their use of such motifs takes Cameron’s concerns about protecting the rights of Aboriginal people and the environment to a more explicit level. Schäffer, another iconic literary figure, is an example of an American who wrote, travelled in, and ultimately moved to western Canada. Schäffer foregrounds her female body in certain key passages and describes the struggle to be taken seriously as a female traveller. She also describes various struggles to domesticate the wilderness and to find a sense of female belonging that she cannot seem to find in urban, eastern society. However, while she frames her text according to the female body, she repeatedly connects her struggle for “[p]eace” with what can be seen as a feminist eco-criticism perspective by arguing for the protection of Aboriginal people, the natural landscape, and the animals of the surrounding wilderness. Similarly, Agnes Laut makes key references to the female body as a defining factor in how one perceives the wilderness, while focussing more on questions of how to preserve national parks and the cultures of Aboriginal populations. While Laut’s text is set in Montana’s Glacier National Park, she makes frequent reference to western Canada and evokes ideas of a cross-border west that pervade her large body of work. Both Schäffer and Laut make use of photography. Laut, who published her text in 1926, even goes so far as to make several allusions to cinema. I explore how anxieties about authenticity and objectivity emerge with the rise of new media and contribute to underlying questions in these texts about who gets to represent or to See/Know the west.   26   1.6 Conclusion: Where is here? Northrop Frye’s question of “where is here” (222) indicates the extent to which interdisciplinarity—the reaching across borders of geography and discipline—is necessary to the study of Canadian literature and history. This question reminds us of the importance of articulating “imagined communities” (B. Anderson 13) in order to make sense of the geographical or national territories in which we find ourselves and of the paradoxically real importance that those abstract definitions carry. This question also reminds us of the nebulous connection between empirical locations (here) and the abstract definitions that allow us to make sense of where we are. Part of the circular ambiguity of this question is that Frye, in the context of his writing on Canadian literature and identity, seems to be pointing to the many different ways that we can imagine or redefine the physical location of Canada. Because the words where and here are both usually used to refer in more empirical ways to locations in space, Frye is hinting, particularly through the form of a question, that there is no way to define a physical location that is not discursive and open to ongoing interpretation. To be anywhere, and particularly to be in Canada, Frye suggests, is to be involved in an act of constant re-definition, one that is connected to real places and people, but which is also abstract and changeable. The sense of indeterminacy or adjacency connected to Canadian identity indicates the importance of examining Canadian literature in relation to American cultural influences (Thacker 11). By identifying and exploring the cross-border genre of frontier revival literature, I hope to show how at the turn of the twentieth century, ideas of western Canada were simultaneously prominent in the imaginations of adventure writers on both sides of the borders, and also very much up for debate. Frontier revival literature about going west at that time reflects this fixation on Canadian identity, as well as on the ambiguity about that very identity, which at that historical   27   moment was especially affected by transnational literary discourses. The influence of the American publishing industry and of American imperialist discourses about Canada as a last North American frontier permeated this genre. For this reason, frontier revival literature sheds light on continuing and longstanding discussions about Canadian literature and Canadian identity. These questions about how we imagine our physical and geographical locations are also relevant to the overlapping methodologies of conceptual metaphor and feminist theory that I have chosen to apply to my primary texts. Conceptual metaphor theory shows how experiential knowledge of the body informs the way that we think about abstract ideas, including those ideas relating to personal and collective identities. My use of this theoretical approach helps me to show how images of travelling bodies in western Canada at the turn of the twentieth century call on a structured network of metaphors to convey complex cultural meaning about ideas of identity and progress. As a feminist scholar, thinking about the body in terms of conceptual metaphor also compels me to note how the use of such metaphors reflects dominant cultural norms about the body and can be significantly different according to the gender of travel writers. The question of where is here? also pertains to questions within feminist scholarship about how women authors relate differently to ideas of place that often exclude them on the basis of their gender. Virginia Woolf’s famous statement from Three Guineas (1938) that “as a woman, I have no country” (109) takes on interesting implications in the context of travel literature, especially in the context of a cross-border genre such as frontier revival literature. This is because images of travelling female bodies in such texts evoke dominant discourses about place, while showing how such discourses exclude women.   28   The function of interdisciplinarity within this dissertation is to decipher meaning in texts that exist between different categories and which have, because of this difficulty of categorization, largely fallen through the literary cracks. Finding ways to interpret and analyze these texts requires finding a new vocabulary with which to read them—one that does justice to their complexity. It is this very complexity, I argue, that makes these texts intriguing aspects of Canadian literary history because they provide insight into persistent cross-border debates about ideas of identity and progress that informed Canadian literature of the time. 1.7 Notes to Chapter 1                                                                                                                 1 All of the quotes from this work are from the later edition edited by E.J. Hart that I cite as A Hunter of Peace in the bibliography. I still generally refer to the text according to the original title: Old Indian Trails. The photographs that I discuss are from the original edition. 2 All of the quotes from Cameron’s The New North are from the recent edition edited by David Richeson. However, the photographs that I discuss are from the 1910 edition. 3 For a good summary of work on conceptual metaphor theory, see Elena Semino’s Metaphor in Discourse. 4 For relevant recent work on border studies see Findlay’s and Coates’ Parallel Destinies and Lape’s West of the Border. 5 For scholarship on manifest destiny, see Kaplan, Murphy, Nugent, Wexler, and Romero.   6 I refer to the “Purposes Are Destinations” (Lakoff and Johnson, Philosophy in the Flesh 179) mapping in the LES metaphor as Destinations/Goals.   29   2 Frontiers of Philosophy and Flesh: Staking Out A Feminist and Conceptual Metaphor Approach to Travel Literature 2.1 Introduction: “horizon[s], and the limit of all endurance” In Old Indian Trails (1911), American Mary Schäffer (1861-1939) describes her and her friend’s envy toward male explorers who travelled into the Rockies. She says that for women travellers, “the horizon seemed restricted, and we seemed to have reached that horizon, and the limit of all endurance” (17). She describes this frustration as being forced “to sit with folded hands and listen calmly to the stories of the hills we so longed to see, the hills which had lured and beckoned us for years before this long list of men had ever set foot in the country” (17). Schäffer’s casual use of this horizon metaphor in 1911 to evoke competing ideas of manifest destiny and women’s rights helps me to retrace a whole legacy of cross-border adventure writing at the turn of the twentieth century.7 On a broader level, this passage illustrates how complex historical meanings about gender, race, and imperialism emerge through representations of the travelling body and often become more self-reflexive, layered in meaning, and politically subversive in the hands of women writers. What does this passage mean and where does the meaning come from? As cognitive philosopher Mark Johnson argues, the very concept of a horizon is experientially based because it connotes a limitation of knowledge based on the physical limitations of one’s sight line (“Image Schemas” 20). For instance, Johnson suggests that the universal bodily human experience of horizons underlies basic shared understandings of centre and periphery in conceptual metaphors.8 Interested in how conceptual metaphors are lived through the female body, I read passages such as   30   this observation by Schäffer as drawing on shared experiential knowledge to engage with complex cultural debates. Schäffer’s idea of expanding the horizon uses this experiential knowledge to trigger a whole set of connotations about North American cultural progress relating to frontier expansion, and she extends these connotations of progress to the promotion of women’s rights. This passage hints at how representations of the female body in such adventure texts by women used American motifs of progress to promote increased opportunities for women on both sides of the border. In Schäffer’s text, the horizon refers to the physical expansion of the frontier by explorers, settlers and travellers, the symbolic testing of the boundaries of cultural progress in manifest destiny rhetoric, and the challenge to limitations on women’s experiences.9 The experiential reference to a horizon provides Schäffer the agency with which to access broader concepts of social progress and extend them to women’s rights. How does this meaning shed light on the other texts in my dissertation? In the body of the dissertation, I conduct close comparative readings of six texts: Sara Jeannette Duncan’s A Social Departure: How Orthodocia and I Went Around the World By Ourselves (1890), Elizabeth Taylor’s “A Woman in the Mackenzie Delta” (1894-95), Grace Gallatin’s A Woman Tenderfoot (1900), Agnes Deans Cameron’s The New North (1909), Mary Schäffer’s Old Indian Trails (1911), and Agnes Laut’s Enchanted Trails of Glacier Park (1926). I argue that in travel literature, the body is rich in meaning and that such meaning is more rich and self-reflexive in texts by women travellers. All of the women whose work I study make complex and persuasive social statements through their physical movements. From Duncan’s 1891 image of sitting at the front of a speeding train to Gallatin’s 1900 description of fighting to steady herself as she falls off her horse in the mountains, or Schäffer’s 1911 desire to broaden women’s horizons, these authors evoke North American ideas of cultural progress and apply such ideas to women’s rights on both   31   sides of the border. They speak through their bodies in a way that was popular and accessible at the time. In these texts, westward expansion simultaneously symbolizes a whole range of ideas about cultural progress, as well as increased social mobility for women. How does the process of finding and analyzing this meaning contribute to a new way of reading texts? In this chapter, I explain my approach to embodiment and show how I draw on feminist and conceptual metaphor theory to analyze meaning on the level of what I refer to as the travelling body. This meaning occurs through conceptual metaphors that are at once highly experiential and yet shaped by cultural context. Feminist scholars of women’s travel literature have shown how women travel writers have appropriated the symbolism of the “individualizing journey” that is usually dominated by men (Smith, Moving xi). I analyze travel literature through the lens of feminist literary analysis by focussing on the big questions of how biological and cultural elements of gender are renegotiated in art, literature, and our daily lives. However, I also draw on cognitive linguistics work on how meaning is made from and through the body itself on the level of conceptual metaphors and frames. As Semino points out in Metaphors in Discourse, one of the most innovative aspects of conceptual metaphor theory is its “focus on patterns of conventional metaphorical expressions, its emphasis on the embodied nature of many conventional metaphors, and its account of how metaphors can systematically shape our world- views” (10). I look to conceptual metaphor theory for a more concrete understanding of how meaning emerges on the level of the body itself and for a more systematic vocabulary of metaphors with which to direct my feminist analysis. I explain my approach to embodiment and show how my methodology provides insights that neither feminist theory nor cognitive linguistics can offer on its own. I propose a way of reading meaning on the level of the body that sheds light on modes of thought at a particular time in history, and that allows me to study how   32   representations of the body evoke specific metaphors across boundaries of geography, high/low art, fiction/non-fiction, canonical/non-canonical texts, and literary/political discourse. I build on feminist theory by providing a rigorous and nuanced methodology with which to analyze how authors live metaphors through representations of the body. I also develop conceptual metaphor theory by showing how metaphors and frames appear through the body in seemingly literal representations of physical movement. Bringing a rigorous methodology to a feminist perspective and an ideological lens to conceptual metaphor theory, I provide a way of reading meaning through the body. I use this approach to locate and closely analyze forms of agency in women’s literature that could otherwise go unnoticed. Why study frontier adventure literature? My approach is particularly applicable to American frontier discourse about western Canada at the end of the nineteenth century. While I go into much more detail about literary and historical context in chapter 3, I establish my use of terms such as frontier revival literature and cross-border here in order to outline the cultural context and primary field of texts in my dissertation, and to explain why this field calls for such a dramatically new approach to reading. My concept of frontier revival literature refers to a specific set of adventure texts written between 1880 and 1930 by eastern authors travelling on the western frontier. These texts are peculiarly cross-border in terms of: site of publication; cultural background; setting; and subject matter. Frontier revival travellers seek to revive and relive eastern American ideas of manifest destiny in western Canadian settings as a response to an increasingly waning American frontier. I explore how this idea of reliving the American frontier in Canada appears through recurring physical motifs that consist of conceptual metaphors and a frontier revival frame. The genre of frontier revival literature demonstrates the usefulness of combining feminist and conceptual metaphor theory to analyze texts. The emphasis on travel as a   33   nation building exercise that is coded through the body in these texts results in a rich layering of conceptual metaphors and cultural meanings that can be best understood through this approach. My time frame—1880 to 1930—allows me to focus on what I see as the beginning, peak, and later developments of frontier revival literature. As I explain further in Chapter 3, this genre developed in the 1880s with the waning of the American frontier and the almost simultaneous opening up of western Canada to immigration, travel, and development. I show how the boom in the northeastern American publishing industry coincided with an increase in adventure literature about western Canada for a cross-border audience and by cross-border authors. Increased opportunities for Canadian and American women in literature and journalism at the time also allowed women to imitate and even contest the masculinist discourses of male frontier revival authors. While the peak of frontier revival literature occurred in the first decade of the twentieth century, it had later echoes, which I explore in Laut’s 1926 text. During the last half of the nineteenth century, literary, historical, and political rhetoric in the northeastern United States was so steeped in language about the body that physical motifs of westward expansion became synonymous with cultural progress. Because the eastern travelling body signifies ideas of imperial westward expansion in the late nineteenth century, it is all the more important to develop a way of critically analyzing this symbolism rather than unthinkingly endorsing its underlying assumptions about gender, race, and class. The persistence of this symbolism on both sides of the border in the primary field that I identify as frontier revival literature10 demonstrates how conceptual metaphors and ideas about the intercontinental expansion of Anglo-Saxon culture, cross conventional disciplinary and geographical lines. My methodology allows me to reach across these lines and explore gendered and racialized ideas about progress in these ostensibly separate national and literary cultures. Most importantly, it lets   34   me show moments of agency and resistance that without this border-crossing methodology would stay lost in the cracks through which they have fallen. I draw on several examples to demonstrate how I use this methodology to analyze texts. For help in identifying metaphors throughout frontier revival literature, I build on scholarship about conceptual metaphor. As I explain in more detail later in this chapter, conceptual metaphor is the “cognitive mechanism” by which we understand and perceive abstract concepts according to the sensorimotor experience of living in our bodies (Lakoff and Johnson Philosophy 45). Primary conceptual metaphors such as More Is Up11 conceive of subjective abstract ideas (in this case, relating to judgment about quantity) according to experiential knowledge (for More is Up, this knowledge would relate to verticality) (Philosophy 54-55). Complex conceptual metaphors consist of more basic primary metaphors as well as “forms of cultural knowledge” (Philosophy 60-61). For instance, the LOCATIONAL EVENT STRUCTURE12 metaphor, which links knowledge of movement through space with knowledge of actions, causes, changes, states, and purposes (Lakoff and Johnson, Philosophy 181), consists of primary metaphors such as: (1) States are Locations (interiors of bounded regions in space); (2) Changes are Movements13 (into or out of bounded regions) (Lakoff, “Metaphor” 222-223). In my own close readings, I build on conceptual metaphor theory by identifying what I see as a network of complex conceptual metaphors, which I show to be connected in a unique and sustained way throughout frontier revival literature. I focus primarily on the SELF-CONTROL IS BODILY CONTROL, LOCATIONAL EVENT STRUCTURE (LES)14, and LOCATIONAL SELF (LS) metaphors, as well as the SELF AS CONTAINER (SC), OBJECTIVE STANDPOINT (OS), and GENERIC IS SPECIFIC metaphors, which in combination produce shifting collective States of self as an individual traveller struggles for control by moving in between, through, and at the edge of   35   Bounded Locations. In order to understand how these metaphors connect to each other and fit into a wider social context, I identify them within a frame, or general knowledge structure (Fillmore, 111), and I specifically identify this frame as a frontier revival frame. By identifying the frame in which these metaphors occur, I can read how metaphors live on the level of the body in representations of physical movement that appear to be literal. I turn to work in cultural studies and feminist theory to develop my literary analysis of the cultural relevance of this network of metaphors in frontier revival literature and go into more detail about the literary, cultural, and historical focus of my methodology in Chapter 3. In contrast with cognitive and feminist approaches to literary analysis, my approach to conceptual metaphor provides a more detailed experiential understanding of the metaphors that occur in travel literature, while also indicating a more precise understanding of cultural concepts of self in which these metaphors occur. Offering a more thorough understanding of how meaning emerges both through the body and within a cultural context, I seek to understand how representations of the female travelling body disrupt and engage in wider cross-border dialogues about ideas relating to cultural identity and progress at the turn of the twentieth century.15 2.2 Living Metaphors: Combining Feminist and Cognitive Approaches to Embodiment In order to explain my approach to embodiment, it is first necessary to explore contrasting interpretations of embodiment in cognitive linguistics and feminist theory. In their influential work on metaphors including Metaphors We Live By (1980) and Philosophy in the Flesh (1999), George Lakoff and Mark Johnson show how we use metaphors in our thoughts, daily language, and literature to understand abstract concepts according to our experiences in our bodies.16 This idea that the body thus shapes our abstract reasoning conflicts significantly with work on the body   36   in feminist theory. For instance, in Judith Butler’s influential Bodies that Matter (1993), she argues that socially constructed concepts, especially relating to sex and gender, are imposed upon and performed by the body (10). As cognitive linguist Elizabeth Hart argues, “[e]mbodiment, in Butler’s scenario, is thus something that happens to the body, is an imposition upon the body by culture” (Elizabeth Hart 30), while according to cognitive linguists, “language and discourse are themselves . . . cognitively embodied” (Elizabeth Hart 31). In my own work, I treat these two seemingly opposite philosophies as relevant to each other in that they both see the body as central to an ongoing interaction between biological and cultural forces. Lakoff does admit that conceptual metaphors always take place within specific cultural contexts (“Metaphor” 244) and Elizabeth Hart goes so far as to locate a sense of agency in what she sees as both “primary cognitive” and “secondary discursive” forms of embodiment (Elizabeth Hart 40). While cognitive linguistics and feminist camps tend to locate themselves on opposite ends of the cognitive/cultural spectrum, they both see the body as at the centre of how meaning is negotiated on a daily basis, and can thus offer valuable lessons to one another. Working within an overall context of feminist literary analysis, I subscribe to Butler’s reminder that representations of the body can never be removed from specific cultural discourses, specifically those relating to sex and gender (10), but can, in the process of re-iterating cultural norms, be used to revise abstract concepts (15). Schäffer’s attempt to expand the “horizon” (17) of possibilities for women is an example of how the female body reenacts ideological concepts of gender. However, neither Butler nor other prominent body theorists, offer a specific close-reading methodology for showing how meaning is revised.17 Conceptual metaphor theorists, on the other hand, would recognize that Schäffer’s horizon is image schematic18 and maps19 the Bounded Location of a sightline onto the State of restriction in the States are Locations metaphor. However, conceptual metaphor theory focusses   37   more on patterns of metaphors in language and would steer away from analyzing the complexities of cultural and literary meaning relating to gender and imperialism in the passage, and of the way that Schäffer conveys such mappings in seemingly straightforward descriptions of physical movement throughout the text. I combine these two approaches by using conceptual metaphor theory to help provide a richer and more detailed feminist analysis of how meaning emerges through representation of the body and, more specifically, how the female body lives and rewrites ideas relating to gender, citizenship, and nationhood. In contrast to conceptual metaphor theorists, I direct my feminist literary analysis toward the way that biological and ideological gender differences affect conceptual metaphors. Considering the fact that biological differences between men and women are fundamental to the experience of living in a human body and yet difficult to separate from the cultural construction of sex and gender, it is worth mentioning that these differences, while understandably overlooked in conceptual metaphor theory, may be of interest to scholars in the field. Some promising cognitive linguistics scholarship has begun to emerge that explores connections between gender and conceptual metaphor or image schema (Ahrens; Freeman; Spolsky).20 Biological gender differences are important to be aware of because they are likely to lead to the presence of specific metaphors and image schemas.21 This is compelling not merely from a feminist or gender studies point of view, but also on behalf of a fundamental interest in how meaning is made and revised through representations of bodies. Because most literary genres have been dominated by men, commonly recurring conceptual metaphors in literature need to be recognized as often stemming from the male body, or reflecting patriarchal concepts of gender identity.22 The task of exploring how metaphors relating to travel tend to reflect masculine experiences of physical and social mobility lies outside the parameters of Lakoff’s and Johnson’s discussion of the Purposeful Life is   38   a journey metaphor (Philosophy 60).23 I argue that self-controlled physical mobility, as implied in the word journey, is more historically rooted in the male body so that this connection between identity and travel (and between social and physical mobility) mostly stems from and applies to male bodies. The common use of this metaphorical connection reflects the tendency in industrialized, western cultures to prioritize male domains of activity as more indicative of social mobility, as well as economic and political agency. While this metaphor stems from the biological and ideological history of the male body, it often appears, even in Lakoff and Johnson’s analysis, as gender neutral. Analyzing how this metaphor has become culturally gendered as male, while being rooted in universal experiential knowledge, is not the job of linguists and ultimately must occur in the field of literary analysis. I explore how women writers use motifs of travel to access more masculine concepts of social mobility and to create a more self-reflexive understanding of seemingly neutral cultural ideas relating to identity and progress. I am influenced by recent cognitive linguistics analyses of Shakespeare’s plays by Eve Sweetser and Ellen Spolsky, which explore how conceptual metaphors reflect biological gender difference, while also occurring within complex cultural discourses about gender, race and class. Sweetser discusses this tension between cognition and culture as the relationship between “general human cognitive constraints and culture-specific cognitive patterns” (24). In other words, a cognitive linguistics reading of literary texts can demonstrate how basic universal, experiential knowledge emerges in culturally specific ways. For example, Sweetser bases one of her literary analyses on what she identifies as “a vertical hierarchical model of Self and Society and a ‘container’ model of Self and Society” that relate to ideas of social status and gender (25). Sweetser’s approach offers clues as to how specific cognitive patterns can enrich a feminist literary close reading.24 Like Sweetser, I identify specific models of self that I show to stem from   39   conceptual metaphors. The importance of travel to cultural questions of national identity and literary questions of individual and collective identity make travel frames such as the frontier revival frame rich in conceptual metaphor. In Spolsky’s reading of Shakespeare’s The Rape of Lucrece and Cymbeline, she argues that literary themes address specific cognitive problems (such as the historical inability to identify paternity or assure female chastity and monogamy), which are continually represented in changing social contexts (as in the motif of Lucrece’s rape) (69).25 Similarly, I see the formulaic use of physical motifs in frontier revival literature as a way of addressing and negotiating cultural anxieties about particular discourses of national identity and progress.26 I also propose a concept of lived metaphor in my own approach to literary analysis. So far, the majority of cognitive linguistics literary analysis is about drama, poetry, and fiction. However, because conceptual metaphors pervade our thoughts and daily speech, it follows that they affect how we live and interact in our bodies on a daily basis and can thus permeate various forms of non-fiction. While the study of body language and gesture in daily life falls more in the domain of linguistics than in literary analysis, representations of the body in literary non-fiction provide an unexplored mine of conceptual metaphor. Lakoff offers a concept of what does and does not constitute conceptual metaphor that I find somewhat rigid for my own purposes. For instance, he argues that the phrase “a balloon went up” (205) is not metaphorical because instead of “abstractions or emotions” (“Metaphor” 205), it describes “concrete physical experience” (“Metaphor” 205). However, in my approach to conceptual metaphor, I explore how within the context of framing, seemingly straightforward descriptions of physical motion can be invested with meaning. This is especially true of descriptions of the body that occur in formulaic frames as in the case of travel writing.   40   In fact, I would like to encourage the study of how frames relating to physical movement shift and operate across geographical, discursive, and disciplinary boundaries—an endeavor that I cannot fully pursue in my dissertation. Spolsky moves somewhat in this direction by suggesting that specific cognitive problems are worked out through different genres (52), which could in themselves be seen as frames. For instance, one could see formulaic genres that focus on the body such as gothic novels, or types of spiritual allegories (like Dante’s Inferno, or Bunyan’s Pilgrims Progress) as using specific frames to address themes stemming from experiential knowledge. In other words, questions about the body—how bodies should act and what kinds of bodies do what kinds of activities—not only underlie, but rather help to constitute and define abstract concepts in our daily lives and in works of literature. As Spolsky notes, experiential cognitive knowledge always occurs within specific cultural contexts (52). I borrow from conceptual metaphor and frame theory to show how representations of bodily movement in literature communicate conceptual metaphors in complex culturally specific settings. We live abstract concepts on a daily basis and non-fiction travel writers often convey this lived meaning through conceptual metaphors and frames. By disrupting the culturally gendered roles of frames, women authors trigger a more self-reflexive understanding of familiar frames and can be seen as helping to shift frames (and the usage of conceptual metaphor) over time—another phenomenon that deserves further detailed study but that is outside the scope of this dissertation. When female bodies act out popular conceptual metaphors that are commonly gendered as male, the reader is likely to stop and reconsider what abstract ideas s/he chooses or is forced to live out on a daily basis. We are prompted to ask ourselves: which bodies get to represent what ideas and why? It is also important to explain how my methodology develops feminist approaches to embodiment. Judith Butler’s work on the body is influential on my approach because of her   41   concept of the body as central to how we attain “cultural intelligibility” on a daily basis through an ongoing process of performing and renegotiating abstract concepts (2). She argues that the necessity of making ourselves socially intelligible to one another requires our bodies to enact familiar discourses on a daily basis (2). In my discussion of women’s use of conceptual metaphors I offer a richer and more complex feminist analysis of these travel texts than is possible with other modes of feminist close reading or discourse analysis.27 So far, aside from the work of a few scholars (Ahrens; Freeman; Spolsky; Sweetser), little work has been done in cognitive linguistics on the ways that conceptual metaphors occur through the body in order to negotiate concepts of gender, race, and class. My study of frames, and of the cultural and literary background of my texts provides a more contextual and intertextual literary understanding of conceptual metaphor than occurs in such work. I focus on how culturally unexpected representation of the female body in relation to conceptual metaphors is of crucial importance to the ongoing negotiation not only of ideas of gender, but also of wider abstract ideas about the self. Feminist autobiography theorists Sidonie Smith and Julia Watson explore how women artists write back in response to women’s roles as “objects of the male gaze—that of the artist and that of the patron” (“Mapping” 15). Similar to Smith and Watson, I see female subjects as having a complex relationship to embodiment because being physically objectified more often in daily language, literature and art leads women to have a heightened reliance on the body as a mode of language, which points to the necessity for cultural literacy about representations of the female body. This awareness of how the representation of women’s bodies is often culturally shaped by men is crucial to a more in depth approach to studying conceptual metaphor in literature.28 First of all, we should be aware that women authors are historically more likely to speak through the body, and to do so with a variation of intentionality and explicitness. I also agree with Smith and   42   Watson’s argument that because women artists are always speaking back to historical representations of women by men (Sidonie Smith and Watson, “Mapping” 15), there is an interesting meta-textual element to much of women’s art and literature, especially in relation to the body (Sidonie Smith and Watson, “Mapping” 7).29 Examining the culturally disruptive use of conceptual metaphor by female frontier revival authors helps to explain how women re-negotiate meaning on the level of the female body. I also build on feminist research on travel and the body in nineteenth-century Canadian and American literature. Building on formative work by women’s travel scholars such as Sara Mills and Mary Louise Pratt, as well as recent influential studies of women’s travel in the United States (Imbarrato; Schriber; Steadman) and Canada (Buchanan et al.; Grace; LaFramboise; Roy), I explore how the female travelling subject represents multiple and often competing discourses of gender and imperialism. Most of these studies approach texts through the lens of feminist and/or post-colonial theory and conduct close readings using methods such as discourse analysis. I explore similar questions about gender and imperialism in these texts, while focussing on how meaning emerges through the body itself. Butler reminds us that one of the main conditions of performativity is that it conceals itself so that the discourses that we perform through the body on a daily basis are taken for granted as natural or innate (12). In a similar vein, recent studies in nineteenth-century American history and literature explore how ideas of the body politic create an illusion of a neutral and universal body politic that masks inequalities of gender, race, and class (Sanchez-Eppler; Sorisio; Piepmeier; Lutes). As well, studies of female journalists on both sides of the border at the turn of the twentieth century show that sensationalist representations of the female body on behalf of eastern female journalists subvert gender norms and destabilize notions of journalistic objectivity (Lutes 5; Fiamengo 14; Lang 5). This sensationalist focus on the female   43   body is even more present in women’s travel writing published in the northeastern United States at the turn of the twentieth century. My cross-border study allows me to explore how Canadian and American women used conceptual metaphor and the frontier revival frame to subvert masculinist manifest destiny rhetoric and adapt it to women. My use of aspects of cognitive linguistics thus provides a new level of awareness about how representations of the female body define and re-negotiate cultural ideas of the self. This approach offers a richer understanding of the layers of embodiment that scholars such as Judith Butler, Sidonie Smith, and Julia Watson point to. It also offers a deeper understanding of the meta-textual strategies by which women writers speak back to gendered ideas of national progress. It helps me to articulate—and to provide a methodological language for—the agency of re-iteration that Butler sees as occurring through the body (15). This is a distinctive kind of writing back through the body on which women—and women writers—often rely. It is a body language that feminist theorists have identified as the body mediated through discourse, but which cognitive linguists allow us to read on the level of the body itself. Like Spolsky, I analyze literature based on an “embodied theory of social structure” (69). Experientially, the frontier revival frame consists of a metonymic traveller who undergoes a cyclical journey involving a repeated loss and renewal of control. Culturally, it appears in adventure literature, historical and political writing and involves a (symbolically) eastern30 American traveller who journeys westward to test and represent ideas relating to manifest destiny in western Canada. While the formulaic physical motifs in this frame suggest that manifest destiny ideals defined Americans or North Americans as a whole, they were often culturally limited to the white eastern male body—so much so that they tend to signal a racialized and regionalized idea of cultural progress as the expansion of Anglo-Saxon culture on both sides of the border.31 When Canadian and American women writers adopt the role of eastern   44   adventure traveller, they disrupt the cultural expectations around the frontier revival frame and reveal the cultural performativity that mediates experiential metaphors. They show how conceptual metaphors, while helping to make ideas of manifest destiny seem universal, are actually framed according to the eastern white male body. At the same time, they do so thanks to their access to the universality of conceptual metaphor. By showing that female bodies can perform the movements by which male travellers normally represent manifest destiny, these authors at once critique the way such underlying metaphors become gendered and racialized across the border and use such metaphors to extend manifest destiny ideals of progress to women. 2.3 Travelling Bodies: The Need for an Interdisciplinary Approach to Travel The large amount of recent international work on travel across disciplines demonstrates the need for a more interdisciplinary methodology for analyzing travel literature. Studies of travel literature are increasingly international with journals, conferences,32 and publications on travel emerging across Europe and North America over the last decade in particular.33 The study of metaphor is a useful tool for understanding modes of thought that cross political, aesthetic, and geographical boundaries. My approach is well suited to the interdisciplinary nature of travel literature. Scholarship on travel literature is being done in a wide variety of fields including history, geography, literature, and women’s studies. Interestingly, most work on travel literature within the last two decades approaches travel as a lens through which to explore ideas of nationalism, citizenship, and underlying identity politics relating to gender, race, and class. Such scholarship asks questions about how ideas of community are created and contested by individual travellers. Ironically, the body, despite its central importance to travel writing, becomes the elephant in the room in travel scholarship. Also, despite the importance of the body in travel   45   literature, I have found few approaches to travel writing in the field of cognitive linguistics.34 Cognitive linguistic techniques can help to improve the methodology of travel literature scholarship. Drawing on conceptual metaphor theory can increase dialogue between interdisciplinary approaches to travel writing, while also making this dialogue more in-depth and detailed by accessing meaning on the level of the body. The strong interest in travel writing in academia and the public at large35 is a testament to the value of my combined use of feminist and conceptual metaphor theory, which takes into account how bodies make meaning not only in canonical texts, but also in popular literature and daily life. I aim to use my approach to introduce a cross-border frontier frame and to contribute to increasingly cross-cultural scholarship on the Canadian-American border.36 Northrop Frye’s famous question “where is here?” (222) should not be seen as incentive to define Canadian literature as a discrete and isolated phenomenon. In fact, part of what defines Canadian literature is our complex history of negotiating and crossing borders. As Thacker reminds us, “[t]o have a Canadian point of view, especially an English-Canadian point of view, is to be ‘on the frontier,’ to be above America but part of America, to have to cross frontiers” (11). Scholarship on Canadian literature and history increasingly acknowledges that an understanding of cross-border influences between Canada and the United States enriches rather than threatens our sense of “here” (Frye 222).37 Interestingly, such scholarship tends to bring to light literary figures who, because they cannot be easily categorized as Canadian or American writers, have gone relatively unnoticed in both Canadian and American literary studies.38 Such figures, including the women I am studying in my dissertation, geographically and politically situate themselves in complicated ways in relation to the border and shed light on overlooked aspects of Canadian literature. The challenge of how to analyze and contextualize their work requires me to be innovative in finding a   46   methodology that allows me to cross borders of gender and geography. My approach uncovers what I refer to as cross-border conceptual metaphors that occur in a particularly cross-border setting. It is necessary to clarify what I mean by the term cross-border. My use of this term refers to four different aspects of the texts that I study—namely, the site of publication (which in this case refers to the northeastern United States from 1880 to 1930);39 the cultural background and/or residency of the authors (half of my authors are originally Canadian and the other half were born in the United States, and all of them crossed the border to travel and/or to live);40 setting (despite being published in the United States, all of the texts are either set in western Canada, in both western Canada and the United States, or as in the case of Laut, in a western American setting that she frequently compares to Canada); and subject matter (all of the texts make comparisons between western Canada and the United States, conflating the two regions within a loosely American discourse of manifest destiny). I study how conceptual metaphors occur in this cross- border context of frontier revival literature. In fact, the presence of conceptual metaphors in these texts helps me to identify this field, which has evaded categorization, despite increasing scholarly recognition of cross-cultural influences in Canadian and American literature at the turn of the twentieth century. Conceptual metaphors provide evidence of a lively, border-crossing literary culture in the one place that seems too obvious to look—the travelling body itself. My study of a cross-border genre helps to show how the frontier revival frame and its conceptual metaphors became culturally limited to the white, eastern, male body so as to promote the continental expansion of eastern Anglo-Saxon culture. Without an awareness of how conceptual metaphors appear in complex cross-border contexts, we run the risk of uncritically accepting motifs of westward expansion without an understanding of their ideological context. My analysis of cross-   47   border women writers allows me to show how such writers subtly appropriate this cross-border imperialism to promote women’s rights by living conceptual metaphor and the frontier revival frame from a distinctly female perspective. Before delving into the conceptual metaphors and the frontier revival frame that I identify in these texts, I must also clarify my use of the terms frontier revival literature and the frontier revival frame. As I explain in more detail in chapter 3, frontier revival literature consists of a particular type of North American adventure text written between 1880 and 1930 that is cross- border in several different ways. Frontier revival authors try to relive American values of cultural progress in the last frontier of western Canada. They are cross-border in regards to site of publication; cultural background; setting; and subject matter. I argue that frontier revival literature contains a frontier revival frame that emerges in the late 1880s and early 1890s in works by American authors such as W.H.H. Murray and Julian Ralph. I see the frontier revival frame as containing the general pattern of physical motifs in frontier revival literature. George Fillmore defines frames as “any system of concepts related in such a way that to understand any one of them you have to understand the whole structure in which it fits” (111). Sweetser and Fauconnier claim that frames can emerge from experiential knowledge and contain specific roles that trigger the frame as a whole (5).41 They further argue that “[r]oles include, but are not limited to, human roles such as Sara’s mother or president of the United States, each of which could be filled by some individual (perhaps the same individual, Janet Smith)” (6). They explain that “[r]oles are created by general social or physical framings of experience; for example, parent or president or student exists against our understanding of family structure, political or corporate hierarchy, or educational institutions” (6). I conceive of the frontier revival frame as made up primarily of the metonymic role of an eastern traveller, as well as other roles that include the physical activities of   48   the traveller such as a cyclical westward journey; a series of struggles in the wilderness involving repeated losses and renewals of control on the part of the traveller; and a final return home at the end of the text that corresponds with a restoration of the traveller’s self-control (See Fig 1.1). The definition of frames in cognitive linguistics theory resembles aspects of discourse theory. For instance, in Discourse, Sara Mills argues that in the context of cultural and literary theory, discourse is usually defined “as the general domain of the production and circulation of rule-governed statements” or as “groupings of statements produced within power relations” (7-8). For the purposes of my methodology, I choose to borrow from and combine aspects of frame and discourse theory. Just as conceptual metaphors have different levels of embodiment or complexity of embodiment, so too do our broader structures of understanding. In my work, I approach the frontier revival frame as a generic scenario involving a role of traveller and the activities of the traveller. The frame is a kind of skeleton, the bones of which are a complex network of conceptual metaphors. I see the frame as a set of physical roles (including the traveller and his/her activities). While conceptual metaphors are all interconnected and are constantly interacting, I define a frame as a particular pattern of conceptual metaphors that interact in a specific way so that a seemingly literal description of a physical movement or scenario instantly triggers a whole set of metaphors in the mind of the reader. The cultural and literary context of the frame fleshes out the skeleton, influencing its shape, function, and interactions with its surroundings, or in other words, which metaphors appear and how they interact with each other in the frame. I view the frontier revival frame as performative in Butler’s sense of the word in that these roles become recognizable and recurring symbols of cultural progress that offer models of “cultural intelligibility” (2) to readers. True to Butler’s concept of performativity as concealing itself (12), the fact that frames are based partly on universal, physical experience, helps to conceal   49   their own cultural performativity in that they often seem on the surface to be oddly divorced from culturally and historically specific contexts. Authors use the roles of the frontier revival frame to negotiate ideas of cultural progress in terms of gender, class, and race that are often highly removed from the western regions in which these motifs occur. It is hard to locate a sense of agency in women’s travel texts around the turn of the century because of the inability or unwillingness of such authors to explicitly criticize imperialist goals of travel or to identify too explicitly with women’s rights. Underneath the seemingly literal and neutral adventure tales of these authors there is a language of metaphors with a whole set of complex cultural connotations, a language that crosses the border. Understanding the frontier revival frame—its social context and its underlying metaphors—allows me to show how women authors on both sides of the border problematize and appropriate the imperialist discourse of their male peers through the body itself. 2.4 Reading the Body in Motion: Metaphors of Frontier Revival Thus the advance of the frontier has meant a steady movement away from the influence of Europe, a steady growth of independence on American lines. -Frederick Jackson Turner, The Significance of the Frontier in American History, 167. The world likes [the American traveller] and he likes the world, and hence he finds welcome everywhere, and the welcome he gets he thoroughly enjoys. Like a snail, he carries his home around with him on his back, and easily adjusts himself to any condition of shine or shade. -W.H.H. Murray, Daylight Land, 214. Lakoff’s and Johnson’s work on the PURPOSEFUL LIFE IS A JOURNEY (Journey) and LOCATIONAL EVENT STRUCTURE (LES) conceptual metaphors offers a useful starting point   50   to explain my approach.42 They define conceptual metaphor as the mapping from experiential knowledge of our bodies onto abstract concepts, which occurs in our daily thought and speech (Lakoff and Johnson, Philosophy 45). Primary metaphors are the most basic mappings between the experiential and abstract domains (Philosophy 59). They identify the Purposeful Life is a Journey as a complex conceptual metaphor, which means that it is “built out of primary metaphors and forms of commonplace knowledge: cultural models, folk theories, or simply knowledge or beliefs that are widely accepted” (Philosophy 60). They see the journey metaphor as combining primary metaphors such as “Purposes Are Destinations” and “Actions are Motions” to create the more complex mappings of “A Purposeful Life Is A Journey,” “A Person Living A Life Is A Traveller,” “Life Goals Are Destinations,” and “A Life Plan Is An Itinerary” (Lakoff and Johnson, Philosophy 61). Not only is this a very common metaphor throughout western literature from Augustine’s Confessions, to Dante’s Inferno, and Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress, but it is at the forefront of travel writing, in which the traveller defines his/her identity through the act of travel. This is especially prevalent in North American travel literature because of the importance of frontier expansion to American and Canadian history. Travel writers portray westward movement as identity-shaping for the individual traveller, as well as for the nation as a whole. In Turner’s famous speech about the closing of the American frontier, he maps the Motion of frontier expansion onto the Action of forging American identity, and he refers to this process as “a steady movement away from the influence of Europe, a steady growth of independence on American lines” (167). Throughout his essay, he describes collective American traits of “independence” (167) as synonymous with a continental movement from east to west. Turner addresses the problem of how to define American identity when the frontier closes by emphasizing the metaphorical nature of this model of identity. He makes the frontier symbolic—a site of   51   “perennial rebirth” (166)—and associates it with a set of experiential patterns of movement that seem to remove it from the actual historical context of American history. Cross-border adventure writers of the time, such as W.H.H. Murray and Julian Ralph, write about American identity according to similar patterns of movement that can easily be enacted in a Canadian frontier setting. For example, on Murray’s journey throughout western Canada in Daylight Land (1888), he describes the prototypical American traveller’s “perennial rebirth” (Turner 166) on the Canadian frontier: “Like a snail, he carries his home around with him on his back, and easily adjusts himself to any condition of shine or shade” (214). In both of these passages from Turner and Murray, the journey connects travel with self-definition. I develop Lakoff’s and Johnson’s use of the metaphor in order to find a more detailed way of examining both the experiential and the cultural sides of such examples. For the purpose of my literary analysis of women’s travel writing, there are some problems with the journey metaphor that I attempt to address in my work. This metaphor does not address the wide range of experiential knowledge that lies under the umbrella term of journey. This raises questions about how to use such a metaphor to analyze texts. For instance, why does Turner describe the nation-building frontier movement as “steady” (167)? Why does he describe the same westward movement as two different movements (away from Europe and towards America)? What is the beginning point and the destination? Who or what exactly is creating and propelling this movement? And why is the movement away from Europe described as linear, whereas the movement toward America is described more ambiguously as “growth” (167)? For the purpose of literary analysis, reading texts with this metaphor is not helpful unless we take into account a broad range of specific mappings between types of movement and abstract ideas relating to journeys.43 The journey metaphor also makes use of the vague term of life, which   52   could refer either to the identity of an individual or a collective. Not only are there many different ways of referring to identity on a collective and individual level, but feminist scholars also remind us that we live on “multiple stages simultaneously” (Sidonie Smith, “Performativity” 110). I build on the journey metaphor to find a more nuanced way of approaching the experiential and cultural contexts in which self-definition occurs in travel literature. The journey metaphor consists of the LOCATIONAL EVENT STRUCTURE metaphor, which is more helpful in analyzing literary passages. The LOCATIONAL EVENT STRUCTURE metaphor maps aspects of movement through space onto abstract knowledge of events pertaining to actions, causes, changes, states, and purposes (Lakoff and Johnson, Philosophy 181). Because it combines primary metaphors, it is also a complex conceptual metaphor (Philosophy 49). Because it contains more purely experiential mappings, and unlike the journey metaphor, does not rely on a cultural context or cultural inferences such as “[p]eople are supposed to have purposes in life” (Lakoff and Johnson, Philosophy 61), I see this metaphor as more experiential and thus more useful for literary analysis.44 Lakoff and Johnson describe the metaphor as follows: States45 Are Locations (interiors of bounded regions in space) Changes Are Movements (into or out of bounded regions) Causes Are forces Causation Is Forced Movement (from one location to another) Actions Are Self-Propelled Movements Purposes Are Destinations Means Are Paths (to destinations) Difficulties Are Impediments To Motion Freedom Of Action Is The Lack Of Impediments To Motion External Events Are Large, Moving Objects (that exert force) [. . .]. (Philosophy in the Flesh 179) 46 This metaphor helps because it encompasses more specific mappings with which to analyze passages. For instance, in the Turner passage, the Bounded Location of the expanding American   53   territory on the frontier “line” (167) maps onto an abstract State of American independence. Also, he associates the Movement away from Europe and onto the frontier line with the Change of the American character. This more specific parsing of cognitive mappings allows for a rich literary analysis. For instance, using this metaphor, I can show how Turner maps the Movement and Force of the frontier itself (rather than of specific individuals) onto the Cause of Change. He thus locates the agency of westward expansion outside of the individual settler, as though expansion were a collective or predetermined event in keeping with the rhetoric of manifest destiny. The frontier becomes a Large Moving Object that maps onto the External Event of collective social change. This ironic removal of individual agency in his description of the Force/Cause of American individualism reflects Turner’s somewhat a-historical approach to American history, by which he virtually ignores the displacement of Aboriginal people and the role of women in frontier expansion. While the LES metaphor facilitates a more detailed analysis, it cannot (and was not meant to) capture the range and depth of literary meaning that I find in travel writing.47 Turner’s vagueness about agency in this passage is echoed by Lakoff’s and Johnson’s uncertainty about the concept of identity in the journey metaphor. The question of what type of identity Turner conceives of can only be answered by closely examining the underlying mappings and broader frames in his writing. I analyze travel literature according to several interconnecting metaphors. I identify the SELF-CONTROL IS BODILY CONTROL metaphor as another way of looking at the GENERAL SUBJECT SELF metaphor, in which “a person is divided into a Subject and one or more Selves” and “each Self is conceptualized metaphorically as either a person, an object, or a location” (Lakoff and Johnson, Philosophy in the Flesh 269). I see the SELF-CONTROL IS   54   BODILY CONTROL metaphor as including the LOCATIONAL SELF, SELF AS CONTAINER, and the OBJECTIVE STANDPOINT metaphors, all of which conceive of the Self as a Location, and all of which are of central importance to the frontier revival frame. It is important to identify the SELF-CONTROL IS BODILY CONTROL metaphor because it helps to explain how seemingly literal descriptions of physical movement provide meaning about identity in travel literature. I interpret the SELF-CONTROL IS BODILY CONTROL metaphor in the frontier revival frame as consisting mainly of a combination of the LOCATIONAL EVENT STRUCTURE metaphor and the LOCATIONAL SELF metaphor. According to Lakoff and Johnson, the Locational Self metaphor maps Locations onto States of being, whereby Normal Locations convey Self-Control, and Abnormal Locations suggest a Lack of Self-Control (Johnson and Lakoff, Philosophy 274). A good example of this is Murray’s image of the American traveller who “carries his home around with him on his back” (214). He conceives of the Self as a Location (home) and envisions a way of testing and maintaining Self-Control by remaining in a Normal Location even when in an Abnormal Location. This ability to symbolically remain home when away conveys a test of Self-Control through a test of Bodily Control. As Lakoff and Johnson argue, the LES metaphor connects knowledge about movement through space to a domain of abstract events that pertains to actions, causes, changes, states, purposes (Lakoff and Johnson, Philosophy 181). The SELF-CONTROL IS BODILY CONTROL metaphor draws on the LES and the LS metaphor to link types of movement in and between locations to the abstract domain of events. The SELF AS CONTAINER and OBJECTIVE STANDPOINT metaphors also underlie the SELF-CONTROL IS BODILY CONTROL metaphor in the frontier revival frame. Lakoff and Johnson describe the SELF AS CONTAINER metaphor as Containment mapped onto Self-Control (Lakoff and Johnson, Philosophy 275). As well, they define the OBJECTIVE   55   STANDPOINT metaphor as mapping a Lack of Containment onto Self-Control, or more specifically, Self-Control through Perspective whereby “[v]ision from the outside is knowledge from the outside—objective knowledge” (Philosophy in the Flesh 277).48 I consider both metaphors to be part of the LS metaphor because they map Normal Locations onto types of Self- Control. However, they offer opposite concepts of Self-Control/Normal Location as either Containment or Lack of Containment. These two metaphors help to convey the tensions of moving in between, through, and at the edges of Bounded Locations/States in frontier revival literature. These interacting metaphors also touch on several other primary metaphors that map experiential knowledge onto abstract domains relating to the self. Common primary metaphors include Knowing is Seeing, and Control is Up (Lakoff and Johnson, Philosophy 53). Furthermore, it is important to recognize that the physical movements of the traveller in the frontier revival frame represent collective, albeit often overlapping or ambiguously defined, identities. I was initially compelled to refer to this as the SHARED STATES ARE INDIVIDUAL BODIES metaphor.49 For instance, when Schäffer discusses expanding the horizons, we instantly connect her own individual experience to collective goals of expanding the frontier, or of expanding social opportunities for women. In the case of Murray, his typical American traveller represents a shared state of adaptable American individualism similar to Turner’s prototypical American frontier traveller. However, another way of understanding this connection between individual and collective Locations/States can be found in the GENERIC IS SPECIFIC metaphor. In More than Cool Reason, George Lakoff and Mark Turner discuss proverbs such as “blind/blames the ditch” as examples of how specific information triggers more general knowledge through the GENERIC IS SPECIFIC metaphor (162).50 They explain that in the GENERIC IS SPECIFIC metaphor, “the source and target have the same generic-level structure.   56   In other words, GENERIC IS SPECIFIC maps specific-level schemas onto the generic-level schemas they contain” (Lakoff and Turner 163). In the case of frontier revival literature, I see specific descriptions of the individual traveller’s movements as similar to the proverb presented to us by Lakoff and Turner, particularly when they convey the recurring physical motifs of the frontier revival frame. For that matter, it seems to me that examples such as Schäffer’s desire to expand the horizon trigger the GENERIC IS SPECIFIC metaphor for the very reason that they resemble the “general-level information” (Lakoff and Turner 163) of the frontier revival frame about the collective significance of individual physical movements. My approach to analyzing this set of metaphors, which I continue to explore in more depth throughout this chapter, offers an unprecedentedly in-depth understanding of primary mappings, complex metaphors, and abstract ideas of self at work in literature. 2.5 “The Long Way Round:” The Frontier Revival Frame The frontier is the line of most rapid and effective Americanization. The wilderness masters the colonist. It finds him a European in dress, industries, tools, modes of travel, and thought. It takes him from the railroad car and puts him in the birch canoe. It strips off the garments of civilization and arrays him in the hunting shirt and the moccasin. It puts him in the log cabin of the Cherokee and Iroquois and runs an Indian palisade around him. In short, at the frontier the environment is at first too strong for the man. He must accept the conditions which it furnishes, or perish, and so he fits himself into the Indian clearings and follows the Indian trails. Little by little he transforms the wilderness, but here is a new product that is American. -Frederick Jackson Turner, “The Significance of the Frontier in American History,” 167. I was not a goldseeker, but a nature hunter, and I was eager to enter this, the wildest region yet remaining in Northern America. I willingly and with joy took the long way round, the hard way through. -Hamlin Garland, The Trail of the Goldseekers, 8.   57   [We] sit with folded hands and listen calmly to the stories of the hills we so longed to see, the hills which had lured and beckoned us for years before this long list of men had ever set foot in the country. Our cups splashed over. Then we looked into each other’s eyes and said: “Why not? We can starve as well as they; the muskeg will be no softer for us than for them; the ground will be no harder to sleep upon; the waters no deeper to swim or the bath colder if we fall in,”—so—we planned a trip. -Mary Schäffer, Old Indian Trails, 16. The challenge of trying to reach a better understanding of self-definition in travel literature requires me to find a way of locating my use of conceptual metaphors in a broader frame. Frames, or “system [s] of concepts” that are related to and trigger one another (Fillmore 111), are important not only in understanding the cultural significance of conceptual metaphors, but also in detecting and analyzing the metaphorical mappings at work. The above quotations from classic texts by Turner and Murray, along with Schäffer’s discussion of expanding women’s “horizon[s]” (17), provide some of the more obvious instances of conceptual metaphor in these texts because they occur in explicitly figurative language. However, in frontier revival literature and most of daily speech, we speak and live mappings between experiential and abstract domains that may not seem metaphorical in either traditional literary or cognitive linguistic senses of the term. While conceptual metaphor scholars (Freeman; Johnson; Lakoff; Sweetser; Turner) focus mostly on how metaphors emerge on an explicitly grammatical level, I am more interested in how authors imply conceptual metaphors in literature through framing.51 Frontier revival authors evoke conceptual metaphors through the roles of the revival frame: a metonymic eastern traveller; a cyclical westward journey; a struggle in the wilderness involving a loss and renewal of control; and a restoration of order with a return home (See Fig 1.1).   58   The passage from Turner’s speech, while still obviously metaphorical, offers a succinct example of the kinds of mappings that frequently occur in the frontier revival frame. The SELF- CONTROL IS BODILY CONTROL and GENERIC IS SPECIFIC metaphors emerge in his description of the individual body of a typical American male traveller as gaining Bodily/Self- Control over a new Location/State of American progress through a struggle in the wilderness. Turner establishes the metonymic status of the traveller by mapping his individual Movements onto the shared cultural Change toward “Americanization” (167). The combined LOCATIONAL SELF and LOCATIONAL EVENT STRUCTURE metaphors depict this “Americanization” (167) as a shared State of idealized Change or progress that occurs as the westward Movement of the frontier at the edge of a Bounded Location. The SELF AS CONTAINER and LOCATIONAL SELF metaphors emerge in images of the traveller as undergoing a series of physical relocations as he is taken “out” of European “modes of thought” and put “in” “the hunting shirt and moccasin” and Indian palisade (167). According to the SELF AS CONTAINER and LOCATIONAL SELF metaphors, the traveller’s relocation signifies an initial loss of Bodily/Self- Control. However, as with Murray’s discussion of carrying one’s home on one’s back, the traveller learns how to restore self-control amidst these very shifts in location. The traveller’s act of fitting “himself into the Indian clearings” (167) attributes Force/Cause and Action/Motion to the traveller himself, which suggests renewed control. As well, the SELF AS CONTAINER metaphor implies that he becomes at home in the very frontier location whose foreignness originally takes him “out” (167) of his familiar sense of self. This shifting between contained spaces reflects the tension between the SELF AS CONTAINER metaphor and the OBJECTIVE STANDPOINT metaphor—a tension that recurs in frontier revival literature. Images of expanding frontier spaces and entering temporarily foreign and threatening locations appear   59   frequently in frontier revival literature and often reflect this tension between Self-Control as Containment and as Lack of Containment. This tension shows an ideal of cultural progress based on continual Movement/Change through the testing of physical and abstract boundaries of Bodily/Self-Control. Finally, the traveller’s “transformation of the wilderness” into a “new product that is American” (167) envisions an ironically cyclical Destination/Goal in the LES metaphor. The very process of testing Bodily/Self-Control allows for a restoration of control that ultimately reasserts the authority of the eastern traveller over the new surroundings. Recognizing how some of these basic underlying metaphors work in the frontier frame, along with the cultural context of the frame, which is discussed in chapter 3, allows for a richer analysis of seemingly literal passages in frontier revival literature. For instance, one of the most common recurring motifs in the frontier revival texts is that of overcoming trials as a necessary rite of passage. In the LES metaphor, Physical Impediments map onto Difficulties (Lakoff, “Metaphor” 213). In the context of the frontier revival frame, this mapping also relates to the LOCATIONAL SELF, SELF-CONTROL IS BODILY CONTROL, and GENERIC IS SPECIFIC metaphors so as to indicate a willing and temporary loss of self-control that ultimately serves a redemptive collective cultural purpose. Other primary mappings such as the SELF AS CONTAINER and OBJECTIVE STANDPOINT metaphors often occur in these trial motifs. For instance, Garland’s statement that he “willingly and with joy took the long way round, the hard way through” (8) could easily be misconstrued as a literal description of his physical journey. There is no explicit reference to a sense of self or any other abstract concept onto which he is mapping these images of arduous physical activity. However, in the context of his introduction, he makes several allusions to being part of a nationalist extension of the American frontier including his statement that the gold rush will be “the last great march of the kind which could   60   ever come in America, so rapidly were the wild places being settled up” (8). In particular, the allocation of agency to himself through the words “willfully” (8) and “with joy” (8) to describe his hardship attributes Force/Cause to the traveller amidst his Obstacles/Difficulties. This concept of controlled loss of control is common in the frontier frame and would have been instantly recognizable to his readers as signaling a redemptive struggle of the individual body in a wilderness Location that represents a shared State of cultural progress. His reference to “the long way round, the hard way through” (8) indicates the arduous cyclical journey of the frontier frame including a struggle in the wilderness. In particular, the words “round” and “through” (8) both refer to being on the edge or pushing through a state of containment, which evokes a testing of Bodily/Self-Control. A familiarity with the cultural context and the metaphors of the frontier revival frame contributes to a richer understanding of both the basic experiential and wider cultural meaning of physical descriptions in travel writing. 2.6 “Oh for a precedent!:” Re-Living the Frontier Frame To know you are right and then go ahead is a pretty plan, but how to know? [. . . ] What was I to do? Oh, for a precedent!52 -Grace Gallatin, A Woman Tenderfoot, 110. It is important to outline the ways that female frontier revival authors appropriate and subvert the frontier revival frame.53 To recap some major points: the concept of the journey has specific and diverse sets of cultural connotations in western literature, including the ancient epic (Homer), or various forms of spiritual quests (Dante; Bunyan), which are predominantly associated with masculine heroic traditions. Because of this, it is crucial to be aware of how we extend this   61   metaphor from the male body and apply it to masculine realms of life experience. Not recognizing the cultural aspect of the journey runs the risk of assuming that metaphors of travel are more universal or neutral than they actually are. Subversive political commentary is often either intentionally or unintentionally present in the work of women writers. For one thing, because women have historically been more physically objectified and have had less cultural control over their own bodies and over representations of their own bodies (Sidonie Smith and Watson, “Mapping” 15), subversive ideas in women’s literature are more likely to emerge through the female body and also to be coded or veiled. Women travel writers often conceal (to varying degrees) political or nationalist affiliations in their texts, a trend that can be seen as stemming from pressures to adhere to gender norms and also from the tendency for women to identify with (and to have more symbolic and actual power within) more regional—or gender—based collectives. As I will discuss in chapter 3, women writers often embody the roles of the frontier frame in different ways than their male peers. They emphasize the novelty of their personal, physical movements and are more self-reflexive about their experiences; they often imagine their appearance in self-deprecating terms through the eyes of Aboriginal people or other travellers. They also often express ambivalence toward more traditional goals of exploration, and foreground the goal of personal freedom. Third, they embrace the very loss of Bodily/Self-Control on the trail (that their male peers see as threatening) to focus more on their alienation from their own cultural norms and to renegotiate, rather than reassert, ideas of cultural progress. These broader effects emerge on the level of metaphor in a variety of ways in frontier revival texts by women. In A Woman Tenderfoot, for example, Gallatin repeatedly emphasizes the novelty of her physical freedom in the wilderness. At one point, amidst a cattle round up, she states: “To know you are right and then go ahead is a pretty plan, but how to know?” and   62   exclaims: “What was I to do? Oh, for a precedent!” (110). In this passage, Gallatin maps the desire for Self-Controlled Movement onto that of Self-Controlled Change. Her gendered alienation from the cattle round up contributes to a lack of agency in this situation, which occurs in the lack of Force/Cause in this passage. However, her exclamation of “oh for a precedent!” (110) indicates that her lack of Bodily/Self-Control in the situation is due to the way such physical activities are culturally gendered. The novelty of her freedom reminds us that these activities, and the cultural rites of passage that they represent, are not neutral but gendered as masculine. A similar ambivalence toward frontier revival motifs appears in Elizabeth Taylor’s A Woman in the Mackenzie Delta, in which she repeatedly uses words such as “perched” (“Northward” 50) and “trundled” (“Northward” 50) to describe her movements as lacking in individual agency. At one point, she exclaims sardonically that despite wanting to stay to observe plant life and sketch, she must hurry because “that boat waited for no woman” (“Eskimos” 235). As with Gallatin, the lack of Force/Cause in these scenarios implies both a restricted access and critical distance from the Movement/Change that they participate in on their journey. As well, all of these women writers describe a sense of exhilaration and freedom at the standard loss of control in frontier revival literature. One of the most poignant examples of this occurs at the end of Schäffer’s Old Indian Trails. As I mention in my introduction, on her way back from the mountains, Schäffer encounters Rudyard Kipling and his wife, who in comparison to Schäffer’s rugged masculine appearance, is dressed in more conventional women’s attire. This meeting prompts Schäffer to confess that, “It was then that I wanted my wild free life back again, yet step by step I was leaving it behind” (78).54 This return home echoes the cyclical journey in the frontier revival frame. However, Schäffer’s regret at the thought of having to return home ironically envisions her Movement/Change as a form of cultural progress that she ultimately laments. The rejection of this   63   return to order uses the experiential aspects of the frontier frame against how it has been culturally gendered. 2.7 “So we planned a trip:” Close Reading [We] sit with folded hands and listen calmly to the stories of the hills we so longed to see, the hills which had lured and beckoned us for years before this long list of men had ever set foot in the country. Our cups splashed over. Then we looked into each other’s eyes and said: “Why not? We can starve as well as they; the muskeg will be no softer for us than for them; the ground will be no harder to sleep upon; the waters no deeper to swim or the bath colder if we fall in,”—so—we planned a trip. -Mary Schäffer, Old Indian Trails, 17. A close explication of this passage in Schäffer’s introduction can help to further demonstrate how I apply my methodology to women’s frontier revival literature. In the first half of this passage, Schäffer makes cultural allusions and a contrast between two different modes of self-definition that establish her relationship to the frontier revival frame. First of all, her reference to “the hills which had lured and beckoned us for years” (17) is, I suggest, an allusion to Kipling’s “The Explorer,”55 a poem about being called by a mythical voice to enter a mountain range, which is also quoted in Dillon Wallace’s well known chronicle of his and fellow American Leonidas Hubbard’s fatal journey in Lure of the Labrador Wild (1905). This layered cultural allusion, along with Schäffer’s reference to cross-border male explorers who ventured into the western Canadian Rockies, help to situate her work in the context of the frontier revival frame. She begins the passage with the SELF AS CONTAINER metaphor in the image of her and her female companion being forced to listen with their hands folded to stories of male adventurers, which links her female identity with a repressive isolation to the private sphere. The Knowing is Seeing   64   metaphor occurs in their longing “to see” (17) the hills. This metaphor connects Vision with Knowledge and an example in everyday speech would be a phrase such as “I see what you mean” (Lakoff and Johnson, Philosophy in the Flesh 53-54). As Lakoff and Johnson explain, this metaphor corresponds with conflicting ideas of Bodily/Self-Control because in the SELF AS CONTAINER metaphor, “vision from the inside is knowledge from the inside—subjective knowledge” and in the OBJECTIVE STANDPOINT metaphor, [v]ision from the outside is knowledge from the outside—objective knowledge” (Lakoff and Johnson, Philosophy in the Flesh 277). In this passage, Schäffer associates restricted Vision from the outside with restricted Knowledge that is not objective enough. This restriction on Vision/Knowledge connotes their exclusion from the masculine paradigm of outdoor adventure and accompanying ideas of pushing the bounds of cultural progress. It is important to note that this contrast between containment and linear motion evokes the tension between the SELF AS CONTAINER and the OBJECTIVE STANDPOINT metaphors. Schäffer particularly emphasizes this contrast between confinement and linear motion in the image of a “long list of men” who “set foot in the country” (17). This “long list” (17) parallels the male authors’ linear Movement/Change with the extent of their public acknowledgment and participation in public ideas of progress. The contrast between the SELF AS CONTAINER metaphor and the linear Movement/Change of the LES and the OBJECTIVE STANDPOINT metaphors indicates different ways of achieving Bodily/Self-Control. In one, the Location of the Individual Self maps onto a shared State of identity through Containment. In the other, it does so through Movement/Change and Lack of Containment. For Schäffer, linear forward motion evokes the Movement/Change of cultural progress, whereas containment evokes a static gendered confinement within such cultural discourse.   65   However, as is typical in frontier revival literature, Schäffer portrays an ideal sense of Body/Self as pushing its own boundaries and existing somewhere between containment and Movement/Change. In the second half of the passage, Schäffer uses conceptual metaphor to describe a turning point in her own decision to trek into the mountains. First of all, she makes yet another inter-textual allusion, this time to the bible, in her declaration that “our cups splashed over” (17). In the context of the frontier frame, this biblical allusion to the image of an overflowing cup in Psalm 23:5 further maps the Location of her Bodily/Self-Control onto a shared State of having a pre-ordained cultural mission. By calling on this higher power, she ironically legitimizes the disruption of gender norms as a way of participating in cultural progress. It is not coincidental that she describes this appropriation of a higher power as breaking out of a container. This image of release indicates a testing of the boundaries of the Self, not only by attaining the linear Movement/Change that she associates with male exploration, but also by crossing the threshold from Containment to a Lack of Containment (though a shift between the SELF AS CONTAINER and the OBJECTIVE STANDPOINT metaphors). The Knowing is Seeing metaphor further compliments this shift into the OBJECTIVE STANDPOINT metaphor in the image of looking “into each other’s eyes” (17) and saying “Why not?” (17). Schäffer describes the decision to leave as one that is agreed upon in their state of containment. She thereby links these seemingly opposing metaphors of the SELF AS CONTAINER and the OBJECTIVE STANDPOINT and prioritizes the Movement/Change between two different Locations/States of self as, on its own, an ideal Location/State that echoes Turner’s “perennial rebirth” (166). By portraying this turning point as a shared experience between two women, she also emphasizes that her individual testing of Bodily/Self-Control represents a shared pursuit of cultural progress—one that she deliberately extends to women.   66   Schäffer also insists on her own experiential access to the frame despite cultural gender norms. Her statement that the way will be “no harder” (17) and “no deeper” (17) for her and her friend “if we fall” (17) indicates the same willing embrace of the loss and renewal of Bodily/Self- Control in the wilderness that writers such as Garland see as propelling their culturally redemptive journeys. Schäffer’s list of potential hardships that will be equal to that of her male counterparts lays claim to these experiential physical trials as a kind of leveling ground of knowledge. As in the case of Gallatin’s example, women need precedents of new kinds of Bodily Control (through a testing of physical limits) in order to gain access to new kinds of Self-Control (so as to test the limits of female social mobility). As with Gallatin, the ability to physically “go ahead” (110) through Bodily-Control represents more abstract improvements in women’s Self-Control. However, part of accessing this abstract realm through the body means changing our cultural attitudes toward the body itself and finding new female models of physical mobility. Gallatin and Schäffer remind us that we need to change our cultural understanding of what the body is capable of in order to allow the body to change our cultural understandings. The physical motion of the eastern female travelling body in the frontier revival represents entry into ideas of cultural progress, but also requires precedent setting women who are willing to test their physical and social boundaries. It requires a “pretty plan” (Gallatin 284) to adjust cultural attitudes toward the body. Schäffer’s question of “why not?” (17) calls attention to the leveling language of the body to in turn make and revise meaning. She breaks out of the confines of gender norms through the very experiential metaphors of the frontier revival frame that have previously been gendered as masculine. Her determination and capacity to push herself “harder” (17) and “deeper” (17) dismantles the language of the cultural frontier frame from the inside out.   67   2.8 Conclusion: Unearthing the Frontier Revival The subject of women’s travel literature is an increasingly popular field both in academia and in the eyes of the public as a lens through which to examine ideas relating to citizenship and identity. On a local level, one need only look to the Vancouver opera about Lillian Alling to find that women travellers are quickly gaining iconic status in Canadian culture as complex stewards of Canadian identity—individuals who forged new paths, while questioning the terms of cultural progress. In the current academic age of inter-disciplinary border-crossing, it is all the more important to restore and study the work of women frontier revival authors whose physical travels helped to pioneer such intellectual border-crossing. Furthermore, it is crucial to find a methodology that does justice to these women writers by actually demonstrating their engagement in world issues of the day. Despite growing interest in women travel writers in Canada, it is all too often the case that references to them are tucked away in archives or relegated to side notes in academic survey texts and ostensibly comprehensive historical studies (Doyle; Mount). It is also common for such authors to be treated as subjects of minor personal or historical curiosity in texts aimed at popular readers (Forster; Harding). Aside from certain fine exceptions (Buchanan et al.; Grace; Roy), work on women travellers in Canada sometimes ignores their broader contributions to meaning making and maintains their place off the literary map. For me, reading these texts is like coming across the remnants of what was once a bustling frontier town. They are the unlikely but uncontestable hosts to major literary and cultural ideas of their time. Though often literally dilapidated, out of print, and virtually lost to a contemporary audience, everywhere within their pages is evidence of women having   68   captured and given voice to a historical period of change, movement, and an exchange of people and ideas across the continent and across the border. Witty, cosmopolitan, candid, and sometimes scathing, these authors record rapid changes in industry, urban development, westward expansion and migration. They document specific discourses of imperialism and cultural progress behind these historical events, while catering to the expectations of their readers, proving points about what women at the turn of the twentieth century were capable of, and seeking their own iconoclastic goals of freedom and fulfillment on the trail. Such complexities, while perhaps contributing to the lack of sustained recognition of these authors, make their work all the more valuable to unearth because they add complex and long lost historical landmarks to contemporary Canadian culture—to the question of “where is here” (Frye 222). Rediscovering where and who we are calls for new ways to read. Putting these adventure texts back on the literary map raises the question of how to properly analyze texts that contain such a remarkable mixture of border crossing, varying cultural discourses of gender and imperialism, restrictions of audience and publisher, and explicit and unspoken authorial intent. How does one analyze texts that are at once so telling of the cultural currents of their time, and yet which remain so seemingly off the grid? Trying to locate the underlying ideas that connect these texts to each other and to their broader cultural contexts means looking for the fundamental iconography with which they speak. It requires a language that is at once leveling and diverse—that of bustling city streets and gold rush trails. It is the language that communicates on billboards, magazines, and newsreels, and which evolves across different forms of discourse and experiences of gender, race, and class—that of the body itself.   69   My study of cross-border frontier revival literature and the frontier revival frame identifies a specific cultural context and set of conceptual metaphors with which to analyze meaning on the level of the body. I locate a network of conceptual metaphors and connect them within what I identify as the SELF-CONTROL IS BODILY CONTROL and the GENERIC IS SPECIFIC metaphors. The task of thoroughly addressing and outlining the large body of work on frames and conceptual metaphor lies outside the scope of this dissertation. It is however my goal to extend work on conceptual metaphor theory to feminist theory and to travel literature to show what kind of “cultural work” (Tompkins xi) conceptual metaphors do in our daily lives through the familiar language of the body. In particular, I view this set of conceptual metaphors and frame roles as allowing women writers to revive opportunities for women at the turn of the twentieth century. I offer a way of uncovering this language, and thereby enriching our overall understanding of the way women authors live and revise discourses of cultural progress through the female body. 2.9 Notes to Chapter 2                                                                                                                 7 For a more detailed discussion of discourses relating to manifest destiny, please refer to chapter 3. 8 In Johnson’s “Philosophical Significance of Image Schemas,” he notes, “the very concept of HORIZON is image schematic. Our perceptual fields have focal areas that fade off into a vague horizon of possible experiences that are not currently at the centre of our conscious awareness. Hence it comes as no surprise that we have a CENTER-PERIPHERY image schema” (20). Image schemas are usually defined as the experiential patterns upon which primary and conceptual metaphors are based (Body xix). It is important to note here that Johnson does not address the   70                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         female body in his discussion of the horizon and that most work on image schemas does not take gender into account because image schemas refer to universal, shared experiential knowledge. For the purpose of my work, I focus less on image schemas, and more on the specific cultural and literary context of primary and complex metaphors. I explore how these metaphors take on different meanings when lived through the female body. My reading of this passage by Schäffer is meant as a brief example of how I adapt conceptual metaphor theory to support a feminist literary analysis. 9 As I discuss in greater detail throughout this chapter, the pushing of Bounded Locations throughout frontier adventure literature signifies testing the boundaries of States of self. This occurs through a set of interconnected conceptual metaphors that I identify in frontier revival literature. 10 For a fuller discussion of the genre of frontier revival literature, please refer to chapter 3. 11 Throughout my dissertation, I italicize the most basic, primary metaphors such as Good is Up. 12 I identify complex metaphors in caps because this is how they are generally represented in scholarship about conceptual metaphor. 13 Conceptual metaphor theorists usually place the abstract (target) domain of metaphors before the experiential (source domain). I try as much as possible to refer to metaphors the way that they are normally written by conceptual metaphors scholars. However, when referring in short hand to the source and target domains of metaphors, I place the experiential domain before the target domain and write both in italics. For instance, I refer to the domains of the Knowing is Seeing metaphor as Seeing/Knowing. I place the experiential source domain first in this short hand form so as to emphasize to literary scholars who may be unfamiliar with conceptual metaphor theory that conceptual metaphors are based on a mapping from the body onto abstract ideas.   71                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         14 I indicate here the abbreviations that I use for some of these metaphors. I only abbreviate the metaphors that I refer to most often. 15 These terms are of course loaded and deserve a more in-depth discussion than is possible within the scope of this chapter. While I focus primarily on how I borrow and adapt terms from cognitive linguistics in Chapter 2, I devote Chapter 3 to exploring the particular cultural movements and discourses in which my authors engage, including cross-cultural literary migrations and influences, changes in women’s social roles, as well as ideas relating to manifest destiny, intercontinental expansion, and changing attitudes to gender. My overall focus though remains on how eastern authors from both sides of the border adopted American rhetoric of manifest destiny in frontier revival literature, which became more about the intercontinental expansion of Anglo-Saxon culture, than it was about American national identity. I explore how motifs of physical movement on the frontier became synonymous with racialized ideas of Anglo- Saxon cultural expansion. I also see these physical motifs as gendered in that images of frontier expansion in frontier revival literature were primarily associated with men. Male authors represented cultural progress in these texts as a masculine domain of pushing the physical and abstract limits of cultural identity. By performing stereotypically masculine physical activities in their texts, female frontier revival authors promoted increased social opportunities for women at the time and also questioned the violence, social inequality, and general biases beneath seemingly neutral images of frontier expansion that pervaded popular culture in North America. 16 For the purpose of my work, I draw primarily on the conceptual metaphors introduced by Lakoff and Johnson and consequently rely mostly on their approach to embodiment here. Despite having familiarized myself with the field of cognitive linguistics and, in particular, conceptual metaphor theory, I choose to primarily draw on and develop Lakoff’s and Johnson’s terminology   72                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         in my dissertation for several reasons. Their work on conceptual metaphor was pioneering in articulating a new approach to embodiment and providing a vocabulary of metaphors, which not only had far reaching influence to cognitive linguists and conceptual metaphors scholars, but which also had significant influence on scholars of other disciplines. It is the influence and intelligibility of that vocabulary both in and outside of cognitive linguistics that makes their work so useful for me to draw on. However, for further reading on cognitive linguistics approaches to embodiment and literature, please refer to the following authors: Gibbs; Parrill, Tobin and Turner; Richardson and Spolsky; Slingerland; Sweetser. 17 This is also a notable limitation in feminist work on women’s travel literature. 18 See Johnson’s discussion of the horizon (“Image Schemas” 20). 19 I use the term mapping in keeping with its use in the field of cognitive linguistics. It may seem like an odd choice of words to literary scholars and I try to use it sparingly throughout the next few chapters. However, it is a key term in work on conceptual metaphor and I use it for the sake of interdisciplinary clarity and consistency. In “Contemporary Theory of Metaphor,” Lakoff’s discussion of the LOVE-AS-JOURNEY metaphor clearly explains how the term “mapping” is commonly defined and used: “The metaphor involves understanding one domain of experience, love, in terms of a very different domain of experience, journeys. More technically, the metaphor can be understood as a mapping (in the mathematical sense) from a source domain (in this case, journeys) to a target domain (in this case, love). The mapping is tightly structured. There are ontological correspondences, according to which entities in the target domain of love (e.g., the lovers, their common goals, their difficulties, the love relationship, etc.) correspond systematically to entities in the source domain of a journey (the travelers, the vehicle, destinations, etc.)” (206-   73                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         207). I use the word to indicate the process by which we project knowledge of a source domain onto a target domain. 20 In Politics, Gender, and Conceptual Metaphors, contributors explore how female politicians use conceptual metaphor in comparison with their male peers. Also, from a more literary perspective, Ellen Spolsky’s article “Women’s Work Is Chastity: Lucretia, Cymbeline, and Cognitive Impenetrability,” was very helpful to me in approaching the way that metaphor use in literature reflects cultural anxieties and debates about women’s bodies. 21 Image schemas are generally defined as a lower level of purely embodied experience beneath primary and conceptual metaphors. Mark Johnson defines image schemas as shared patterns of experience (Body xix) that help to structure more abstract forms of cognition (Body xx). Certain common schematic patterns that he mentions are source-path-goal (“Image Schemas” 20) and containment (“Image Schemas” 21). In Margaret Freeman’s “Momentary Stays, Exploding Forces,” she studies how these two contrasting schemas emerge in work by Emily Dickenson and Robert Frost. However, while Freeman’s comparative study hints at connections between the gender of the authors and their choice of schema, she does not pursue this connection. 22 This may be a debatable point in scholarship on conceptual metaphor and it is one that deserves and requires more attention and research in that field. 23 Cognitive linguists such as Lakoff and Johnson understandably do not focus on the cultural usage of metaphor but rather provide valuable insight into patterns of how metaphors occur in language. 24 She also indicates that one of Shakespeare’s skills as a writer is the complexity of his treatment of universal, cognitive human problems. Rather than offering a specific model of self and society,   74                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         he explores the tensions in such models. Sweetser shows that his thematic conflict emerges out of basic cognitive tensions such as conflicting views of the self as vertical and as a container. 25 For instance, in Renaissance England, the lineages upon which social structures were based were reliant on women’s fertility and monogamy, despite the impossibility of ever fully identifying paternity or assuring female chastity and monogamy (Spolsky 51). The physical “invisibility” of women’s sexuality thus underlies broader literary themes about sexual loyalty, betrayal, and violation. 26 For instance, one of the most insistent themes in frontier revival literature is the paradox of needing to define the self through both the settlement and the expansion of frontiers, processes, which are at once antithetical and linked. I show how this paradox stems from ideas of self- definition through motion and through containment. Anxieties about needing to define American identity through constant expansion of territorial boundaries occur frequently in American literature, particularly travel writing. American authors associate continual movement with an ideal of ongoing progress that defines American manifest destiny. However, on a basic physical level, constant motion is not humanly possible, and this applies as well to the ultimate limits of American territorial expansion. On a more cultural level, American authors suggest that the need for constant cultural upheaval and change is not sustainable and does not allow for the creation of sustainable cultural values. This tension between settling and expanding the frontier is also highly gendered in that women are usually portrayed as figureheads of domesticity and civilization, while male figures usually must break new cultural ground by pushing and thus defining the physical and cultural progress of the culture. I argue that by placing the female body in traditionally masculine modes of physical mobility as opposed to domesticity, female travel writers disrupt the cultural expectations surrounding the mission of American manifest destiny.   75                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         27 Feminist work on travel literature has been very influential on my work (Mills, Discourses of Difference; Sidonie Smith, Moving), but tends to lack a detailed methodology for analyzing passages of text. 28 I have already explained that Lakoff and Johnson do not carefully take into account how complex metaphors are based on experiential metaphors, while actually being heavily shaped by gendered cultural contexts. It is important to be aware of two things: 1) how metaphors often stem from the male body and are mapped onto male experience and 2) how they often reflect masculine concepts of male and female bodies. To cognitive linguists, these cultural distinctions may be unnecessary. However, understanding the way that cultural gender distinctions affect which cognitive metaphors become prevalent and how they are used is crucial to a literary understanding of the layers of meaning in prevalent conceptual metaphors and how our underlying metaphorical structures operate in society. 29 Smith and Watson discuss “artists’ engagement with the history of seeing women’s bodies” (Sidonie Smith and Watson, “Mapping” 7). 30 When I refer to the eastern travelling body, I am really referring to what I identify here as the symbolic eastern travelling body. In other words, while frontier revival authors did not all come from or reside in eastern locations, they published on the east coast and wrote primarily for an eastern audience. The travelling body in their texts comes to represent an eastern perspective on ideas relating to western expansion. 31 Coded in common male uses of the frontier frame is the idea that eastern travelling men are first class citizens on the frontier followed by eastern female travellers who function as domestic helpmates.   76                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         32 Tim Youngs’ journal Studies in Travel Literature is testament to the growing international scholarly attention to travel. As well, recent international conferences have featured a great deal of work on travel, including two conferences on the Arctic that I attended in Norway and Sweden in 2008. 33 Recent publications include book length studies (M. Anderson; Bauer; Berton; Birkeland; Brickhouse; Buchanan et al.; Cox; Hotz; Imbarrato; Kazanjian; McBride; Siegal; Simpson; Roy); anthologies of primary sources (Bohls and Duncan; Fisher; Landsdown; Mancall); and collections of secondary criticism (Dowler et al.; Helmers and Mazzeo; Youngs and Hulme). 34 A notable example of a cognitive linguistic reading of travel literature is Barbara Dancygier’s “Blending and Narrative Viewpoint: Jonathan Raban’s Travels Through Mental Spaces,” Language and Literature (2005). 35 Evidence of the persistent popularity of travel literature on a local scale lies in a recent exhibit at the Vancouver Art Gallery called Expanding Horizons: Painting and Photography of American and Canadian Landscape 1860-1918 and the corresponding book (Goldfarb et al.), as well as the recent Vancouver opera, Lillian Alling. 36 I draw particularly on the comparative work of James Doyle and Nick Mount. Doyle’s North of America (1983), Yankees in Canada (1980), and The Fin de Siècle Spirit (1995) provide insight into late nineteenth-century American literature set in Canada, along with the involvement of Canadian writers at that time in north eastern American literary circles. Nick Mount’s When Canadian Literature Moved to New York (2005) also offers an in depth study of why and how late nineteenth-century Canadian writers left Canada to publish in the United States. These and other comparative approaches to Canadian and American cultural history, particularly of the west (Evans; Findlay and Coates; Higham and Thacker, One West Two Myths I & One West Two Myths   77                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         II) indicate a growing field of comparative work on border crossing in Canadian and American literary history. I also draw particularly on work relating to cross-border women writers in the west (Barman; Pagh; Jameson and McManus; Skidmore). Most notably, Jean Barman’s Constance Lindsay Skinner (2007) offers a kind of feminist counterpart to Mount’s book in her study of a famous turn-of-the-century Canadian female western author who infiltrated the northeastern American writing community and wrote about Canadian settings. 37 See all of the previous examples. Higham and Thacker are a prime recent example of scholarship that approaches the study of such border crossing in this way. 38 See Barman’s biography of Constance Lindsay Skinner for a good example of this. 39 The main time period that I focus on ends loosely around the First World War. However, I am interested in how recurring frontier revival motifs developed and lingered on, particularly in literature that is more focussed on American landscapes or American discourses. The imperialist underpinnings of frontier revival literature were more accessible to American authors and readers whose dreams of expansion had not been eclipsed by the devastation of war as in Canada. With attention to how frontier revival literature lingered on in a more American—although still symbolically cross-border—setting, I end my final chapter by looking at Laut’s 1926 text, Enchanted Trail of Glacier Park, which is set in Montana. 40 Please see chapter 3 for a full explanation of why Canadian authors were motivated out of necessity to participate in the more active publishing industry south of the border. 41 I see the complex literary and cultural meanings that are triggered by roles of the frame as more of the realm of discourse theory and turn more so to work of feminist and literary scholars when interpreting the cultural context and relevance of the frame. One interesting overlap between frame and discourse theory is the tensions around the idea of embodying roles. Sweetser and   78                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         Fauconnier note that, “[a]s with the idea of representation, the idea of roles carries along with it the idea of multiple possible mappings between a role and its filler” (6). Similarly, feminist theorists describe gender roles as socially constructed and open to ongoing interpretation. In particular, feminist scholarship on women’s travel literature often draws attention to the way that women writers in particular perform various and often conflicting cultural roles (Pratt, Mills, Discourses of Difference). In “Performativity, Autobiographical Practice, Resistance,” Sidonie Smith refers to the female autobiographical subject as existing on “multiple stages simultaneously” (110). I thus use the term frame throughout my methodology because I see the roles of frames as useful concepts in mediating between experientially based conceptual metaphor and more complex cultural discourses relating to ideas such as national identity and gender. 42 As I explain in note 15, I draw significantly on Lakoff’s and Johnson’s work primarily because of the interdisciplinary vocabulary that they offer with which to discuss embodiment and conceptual metaphor. In particular, Philosophy in the Flesh provides a a clear and thorough list of many different conceptual metaphors along with explanations of the metaphors and how they relate to each other. While I add some of my own metaphors and create my own network of how different metaphors interact with each other, I rely on several of the metaphors that they introduce so as to provide a specific vocabulary with which to analyze my texts—a vocabulary that should be recognized by conceptual metaphor theorists and also understood by those outside the discipline. For other important work on conceptual metaphor please see work by the following authors: Handl and Schmid; Lakoff and Turner; Ortony; Semino; Stockwell; Sweetser; Sullivan and Sweetser). 43 It is important to note that this journey metaphor was not initially intended by Lakoff and Johnson to be applied to literary texts.   79                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         44 Lakoff and Johnson do not discuss how some complex metaphors are more experiential than others. 45 It is important to note that States refers to abstract states of being. 46 For a fuller discussion of the LES metaphor please see chapter 11 of Philosophy in the Flesh and also Lakoff’s “Contemporary Theory of Metaphor” (222-223). 47 Once again, it is important to mention that Lakoff and Johnson did not explicitly intend their work on conceptual metaphor to be applied to literature. My critique of their work here is meant not to suggest major shortcomings in their theoretical approach, but rather to show the advantages of building on conceptual metaphor theory by developing it in specific ways for the purpose of literary analysis. 48 An example in everyday language would be “step outside yourself” (Philosophy in the Flesh 277). 49 I still sometimes refer to the individual body of the traveller as representing shared States. What I mean by this is that the GENERIC IS SPECIFIC metaphor combines with other metaphors that I discuss throughout this chapter. The Bounded Locations/States associated with the Bounded Location of the traveller’s body itself (or the body’s movement in between, through, or at the edge of Bounded Locations) map onto his/her individual States (for instance, relating to ideas of bravery or redemption), and also to States that are supposed to represent collective groups such as Americans, or North-American women. 50 For instance, they show that the specific scenario of this simple proverb offers “generic-level information, which is as follows: —There is a person with an incapacity.   80                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         —He encounters a situation in which his incapacity in that situation results in a negative consequence. —He blames the situation rather than his own incapacity. —He should have held himself responsible, not the situation” (163). For another helpful discussion of the GENERIC IS SPECIFIC metaphor, please see Sullivan and Sweetser’s article, “Is Generic is Specific a Metaphor?” in Meaning, Form, and Body. 51 For Lakoff’s discussion of the difference between literal and metaphorical language, see his discussion of the phrase “a balloon went up” in “Contemporary Theory of Metaphor” (205). 52 My in-text citations for Gallatin refer to the 2005 reprint of the text. However, all illustrations that I refer to are from the original 1900 version. 53 It is important to clarify here whether or not I see the frontier revival frames as changing over time because I am essentially claiming that female authors interpret the frame differently than their male peers. As I explain in this chapter, I see this frame as a generic knowledge structure tof conceptual metaphors that recur in a specific cultural context. The lowest level experiential basis of the frame does not change. However, the cultural understanding of the frame changes. For instance, the idea of who can fill the role of traveller—and by extension embody specific ideas of cultural progress changes. A major change that occurs through female interpretations of the frame, is the level of cultural awareness of the frame itself. Once readers become aware of their own performative investment in patterns of thinking about westward expansion and physical activities on the frontier, the cultural meaning of the frame changes. Its meaning now incorporates ideas of ongoing re-interpretation, and it can no longer function as smoothly as a kind of seamless iteration of cultural identity.   81                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         54 This longing to return to the trail is a common motif in frontier revival literature. However it is more prominent in the works of women writers whose unprecedented freedoms in the wilderness contrasted with their daily lives at home much moreso than in the case of the male authors. 55 Kipling’s explorer imagines a voice calling him and saying: "Something hidden. Go and find it. Go and look behind the Ranges— Something lost behind the Ranges. Lost and waiting for you. Go!" (19). This passage was cited at the beginning of Lure of the Labrador Wild.               82   3 Making New Bodies Matter: Women Writers and the Frontier Revival 3.1 Introduction: “Getting as far as you can go” In A Social Departure (1891), Sara Jeannette Duncan begins the account of her world travels with an image of herself perched at the front of the cowcatcher of a C.P.R. train that races at top speed through western Canada (See Fig 3.1). “There is a satisfaction,” she reminds readers upon arrival in Vancouver, “that is difficult to parallel in getting as far as you can go” (66). As the accompanying illustration shows, Duncan sits perilously at the front of the speeding train, clutching onto her wide-brimmed hat, and looking directly at the reader with mischievous delight. Echoing Agnes MacDonald’s famous inaugural cowcatcher ride in 1886, this image is iconic in Canadian literature for several reasons. Her statement indicates some of the major themes in the genre that I identify as frontier revival literature. First of all, from a new historicist and Canadianist perspective, I see Duncan as representing Canadian nationalist expansion into the west. As well, drawing on a comparative literature approach, I also suggest that as a white middle class easterner she calls attention to current ideas about manifest destiny individualism, progress, and the imperialist expansion of Anglo-Saxon culture into a cross-border west. And when viewed through the lens of feminist theory, Duncan can be seen as a female adventure tourist because she represents turn-of-the- century concepts of the new woman by pushing the boundaries of gender norms and extending notions of progress and individual freedom to women. Most importantly, these ideas emerge through the representation of the body. Her comment, like her photograph, demonstrates the way that frontier revival writers such as Duncan use images of the travelling body to promote the   83   cross-border imperialist expansion of white, Anglo-Saxon culture. Cross-border56 female adventure writers represent the female body in familiar heroic roles so as to promote women’s rights on both sides of the border. A traditional close reading of literary devices cannot adequately explain why Duncan is at once so iconic and complex—and why she communicates these levels of meaning with such ease. Drawing on conceptual metaphor theory, I argue that this image is iconic because of its beautifully (and deceptively) simple basis in embodied cognition, which allows it to resonate on so many levels with readers both then and now. It is precisely because we hear about and see Duncan’s position at the front of the speeding train that we perceive wider connotations of nationalism, westward expansion, and the new woman in her adventure. It is because Duncan literally places herself at the forefront of westward expansion, because she physically goes as far as she can go, that we find cultural connotations relating to imperialism and women’s rights in her story. The purpose of this chapter is to introduce the field of frontier revival literature to which Duncan and my other five authors belong. In order to contextualize and justify my comparative study of texts by Americans Grace Gallatin (1872-1959), Mary Schäffer (1861-1939), and Elizabeth Taylor (1856-1932), and Canadians Agnes Deans Cameron (1863-1912), Sara Jeannette Duncan (1861-1922), and Agnes Laut (1871-1936), a literary and historical context for the genre is useful.57 I begin with the image of Duncan hurtling through space to emphasize how writers in this field used iconic and viscerally charged descriptions of physical movement to promote late nineteenth-century concepts of an intercontinental west. As I explain in this chapter, images of westward expansion and adventure at the time are steeped in ideological rhetoric about American identity—rhetoric that is applied to Canada and adopted by Canadian writers. Nugent explains that the first major imperialist phase of American expansion, which ended in the 1840s, relied   84   heavily on manifest destiny ideology: “White Americans were certain that they had the right and duty to take land” (234).58 I show that imperialist ideas in frontier revival literature occur in conceptual metaphors that underlie a frontier revival frame. Going west is ideological short hand for North American ideas about cultural progress at the turn of the twentieth century. I divide my discussion into five parts. First of all, I examine the ideas of east and west that underlie expansionist rhetoric in frontier revival literature, and I show how eastern American authors represent the eastern travelling body in western settings as a form of Anglo-Saxon imperialism that transcends the border itself.59 Second, I describe in detail exactly what kind of frontier I am referring to and what concepts authors are seeking to revive through representations of the eastern travelling body at the end of the nineteenth century. I demonstrate the cross-border context of frontier revival literature and explain how both American and Canadian authors used the physical motifs of American frontier mythology in Canadian or cross-border settings. Third, I outline different stages of frontier literature, from exploration and pioneer narratives to better known writing about the west by historians Frances Parkman, Frederick Jackson Turner, and Theodor Roosevelt, and in adventure texts set in cross-border western settings. By cross-border western settings, I mean journeys that conflate western regions of Canada and the United States. Most of the texts that I include in the field of frontier revival literature are actually set in western Canada. However, their authors extend American manifest destiny rhetoric to western Canada in the form of a broader, more popularized concept of American progress as the continental westward expansion of Anglo-Saxon culture. This discussion of stages of frontier literature is important in order to demonstrate how representations of the travelling body develop into a frontier revival frame in the mid-to-late nineteenth century, and how physical motifs represent the intercontinental expansion of Anglo-Saxon culture in the face of an increasingly diminishing   85   American frontier. In this chapter, I also explain the historical context of women’s cross-border frontier revival literature and discuss how women authors use representations of the eastern female travelling body to respond to the work of their male peers in subversive ways. Examples from cross-border texts by men help me to show the specific roles of the frontier revival frame, which include a white traveller whose body metonymically represents manifest destiny ideals; a cyclical westward journey; a test and renewal of physical and cultural self-control; and a return home. Contrasting these examples with ones from women’s frontier revival literature, I explore how women writers adapt this frame to a distinctly female perspective. By focussing on the female travelling body in the frontier revival frame, I argue that these authors promote women’s rights while performing dominant ideas about westward expansion. Duncan’s concept of “getting as far as you can go” (66) emerges out of a long literary history of eastern North American writing about western expansion. By situating herself physically and metaphorically on the vanguard of a new modern era (of continental expansion, North American imperial aspirations on the world stage, increased immigration, industrialization, and suffrage), Duncan helps to usher in complex cross-border debates about empire, nationalism, gender, race, and citizenship in North America. As Thacker points out in his comparative study of Canadian and American frontier mythology, “[t]o have a Canadian point of view, especially an English-Canadian point of view, is to be ‘on the frontier,’ to be above America but part of America, to have to cross frontiers” (Thacker 11). Canadians were inevitably influenced by dominant American myths of westward expansion. Stepping outside the boundaries of Canadian and American literature allows us to see how earlier American frontier myths incorporate and influence elements of Canadian culture. A fuller discussion of British and Canadian imperialist discourses in contrast with American   86   imperialist discourse at the time lies outside the scope of this dissertation. However, by identifying and contextualizing frontier revival literature, I show how American manifest destiny rhetoric emerges on the level of the body in these texts to represent cross-border ideas of westward expansion. Frontier revival literature emerges out of frontier literature on both sides of the border, but reflects the longer and more dominant American ideology of manifest destiny of the 1840s and the late nineteenth century. The frontier revival frame solidifies the symbolism of the metonymic travelling body. Written at a time of increased imperialism in both the United States and Canada, frontier revival literature codes ideas of progress through the white travelling body to appeal to readers on both sides of the border. The revival in frontier revival literature signifies two different activities—a revival of the lost American frontier, and also of Canadian expansion in the newly opened west. Frontier revival authors self-consciously use their physical journeys to signify familiar rituals of cultural progress. The booming periodical culture at the turn of the twentieth century opened up the increasingly blatant, and over-exposed symbolism of frontier revival literature to reinterpretation, providing opportunities for women writers to appropriate and revise the normative imperialist discourses of adventure literature. 3.2 “Our East and Our West:” Locating Cross-Border Frontier Literature In Duncan’s description of the Canadian Pacific Railway, she describes westward expansion in Canada as both defining the nation and as representing broader processes of North American westward expansion. Explaining the C.P.R. to Orthodocia, she says,   87   It was made for the good of Canada, it was made for the greed of contractors. It has insured our financial future, it has bankrupted us forever. It is our boon and our bane. It is an iron bond of union between our East and our West—if you will look on the map you will discover that we are chiefly east and west—and it is an important strand connecting a lot of disaffected provinces (19). While officially referring to Canada in this passage, Duncan implies a continental east/west division that takes precedence over the American-Canadian border. Her transition from “our East and our West” to “we are . . . east and west” (19) emphasizes that her westward journey represents a form of cultural progress through westward expansion. However, one has to wonder, given this cross-border east/west distinction, who exactly Duncan refers to with the pronouns “our” and “we.” As an affluent white, English speaking, metropolitan traveller, she calls upon imperialist rhetoric on both sides of the border about the continental spread of white, Anglo-Saxon culture. The most recognizable imperialist discourse of this nature lies in northeastern American manifest destiny rhetoric. However, it is paralleled in eastern Canadian advocates of westward expansion in works such as George Grant’s Ocean to Ocean. Duncan’s ambiguity in regards to her audience suggests a broader eastern imperialism that underlies the rhetoric of westward expansion. Duncan’s “our” and “we” signifies not simply eastern, western, American or Canadian identities, but rather an eastern vision of westward expansion that underlies American and Canadian ideas of cultural progress. This eastern imperialism foregrounds the interests of affluent eastern white north Americans in exploiting and assimilating the racial diversity of the west. This passage helps to show how authors use the travelling body in late nineteenth century frontier adventure texts to symbolize ideas of collective social progress through familiar physical motifs. Furthermore, what is so compelling about the representation of the body in frontier revival texts is that while authors evoke ideas of collective progress through the frontier frame, they   88   indicate that such progress only applies to particular types of bodies (eastern, white, affluent, metropolitan, and mostly male). In other words, these travelling bodies define collective goals, while subtly limiting the achievement of those goals to a cross-border, eastern elite. Writers on both sides of the border use the white eastern travelling body to evoke the corporeal limitations of a broader Anglo-Saxon imperialism. Duncan’s inclusion of her female body in this stereotypically masculine field of writing disturbs the conventionally gendered terms of expansionist discourse. As Amy S. Greenberg shows in Manifest Manhood, nineteenth-century manifest destiny rhetoric was distinctly gendered and “debates over Manifest Destiny also were debates over the meaning of American manhood and womanhood” (14). She shows how expansionist rhetoric expressed concepts of “martial” and “primitive ” masculinity based on ideals of physical strength, courage, and adventure (12-13), and on concepts of femininity as the “benevolent domestic presence” that helps to civilize the frontier (2). Duncan, who generally adopts an alternative new woman persona that flouts gender conventions (Fiamengo 23), challenges readers to think about gendered ideas of social progress as open to interpretation. She forces readers to wonder about the tension between the eastern travelling body’s exclusionary representation of collective goals and the actual heterogeneous bodies it claims to represent. She invites us to question whose cultural progress it is anyway—to ask who gets to represent and define collective values and why? Duncan’s perspective as an eastern adventure-author writing about a western setting would have been instantly recognizable to North American readers of the day. In The Eastern Establishment and the Western Experience (1989), Edward White observes that in the late nineteenth century, well-known eastern literary figures including Owen Wister, Frederick Remington, and Theodore Roosevelt romanticize the west as an alternative to the modern industrialized society of the eastern United States (7). White explores the work of these men as   89   part of what he sees as the affluent “eastern establishment” including “the boarding school, the Ivy-League University, the college club, the metropolitan men’s club, and the Social Register” (6). Martin Green shows that eastern American writers actively project myths of Anglo-Saxon hemispheric expansion and domination onto western settings (16). Thus, while the work of eastern authors presents an idealized western alternative to eastern industrial America, it ultimately reflects the interests of white, Anglo-Saxon northeastern American men. Famous eastern historians, Frances Parkman, Frederick Jackson Turner, and Theodore Roosevelt, all mythologize the travelling body in the west according to distinctly eastern ideas of national progress. These figures are already well known as part of an “eastern establishment” (White 6) of writers about the west. However, I argue that the work of writers such as Parkman, Turner, and Roosevelt resonates, not merely because of their shared cultural background in the nineteenth- century American eastern establishment, but also because of the central role that the male body plays in their metaphors of westward expansion. They convey the need to renew manifest destiny values on a diminishing frontier by emphasizing the formulaic nature of the eastern traveller’s physical movements that metonymically reenact wider ideas of cultural progress. Importantly, these writers present a very specifically racialized and gendered travelling body. The legacy of Parkman, Turner, and Roosevelt persists in their use of a frontier revival frame, in which a metonymic travelling body undergoes a cyclical westward journey, a loss and renewal of control, and a final reassertion of eastern ideals of cultural progress. These motifs lay the groundwork for frontier revival literature by eastern Canadian and American authors.   90   3.3 The Frontier Revival and The Cross-Border West Because the hub of the North American publishing industry at the end of the nineteenth century was in the northeastern United States, eastern frontier revival literature emerged in a distinctly cross-border literary climate. In The Fin De Siècle Spirit (1995), James Doyle observes that during the last decade of the nineteenth century, the Canadian publishing industry suffered from a limited readership, along with high tariff and postage rates that encouraged imported rather than domestic literature (9). Prominent young Canadian writers such as Walter Blackburn Harte were lured to the United States during this time due to the size of the American reading public and the many lucrative magazines and new publishing opportunities for young writers, including women (Doyle, Fin 9). As Mount explains, the “literary exodus” of the 1880s and 90s was the biggest out-migration in Canadian history (6), a migration that for writers such as Sara Jeannette Duncan, was “about moving from the margins to the centres of a continental literary culture” (13). Most of these writers moved to northeastern American cities (Mount 21) and New York was the epicenter of the publishing industry (Barman, Constance 61)—especially the booming periodical industry (Mount 40). In particular, a number of Canadian writers including Ernest Seton-Thompson and Charles G.D. Roberts were successful in writing outdoors literature with anti-modern themes (Mount 99) and often cross-border settings. Considering the popularity of nature and adventure writing in the eastern American publishing industry of the time, and the migration of so many Canadian writers to the northeastern United States, it is no coincidence that these writers participated in the frontier revival frame and its physical motifs of an eastern travelling body. Imperialist cultural distinctions between the east and west in this frame were easily accessible to both Canadian and American writers in the booming publishing centres of the American east.60   91   In fact, because of historical differences in Canadian and American westward expansion, American rhetoric about continental expansion preceded and anticipated similar Canadian imperialist discourse. Popular “linked discourses of hemispheric unity and U.S. imperial destiny” (Murphy 14) were prevalent in American politics and letters from the beginning of the nineteenth century (Murphy 14-15), and nineteenth-century manifest destiny rhetoric envisioned the continental expansion of “white Americans” as a form of inevitable and divinely ordained cultural progress (Nugent 234). This racialized discourse was particularly popular during the swell in territorial expansion during the 1840s (Roth 5), when American interests in Canadian territory also surged (Nugent 92). Because manifest destiny rhetoric promoted the expansion of white english speaking North Americans, it fostered the continental east/west divide to which Canadian writers like Duncan refer in their work. Imperialist discourse about expansion in both countries has tended to share similar rhetoric about creating a white Anglo-Saxon and Christian civilization (Katerberg 67). Morrison argues that myths of frontier expansion did not develop as much in Canada because of geographically isolated, and tight knit, eastern settlements (103); an awareness of the preexisting inhabitants in western Canada (104); geographical barriers to slow a moving frontier (105); and an emphasis on social order through the R.C.M.P. and the settlement of “small homogenous communities” (106). As I will show, Canadian female frontier revival authors tended to adopt and respond to already established, more dominant American discourses on frontier expansion.61 Harold Innis’s alternative Canadian frontier myth not only came 50 years after Turner’s frontier thesis, but it also envisaged the frontier as a peripheral economic support for the cultural metropolises in Europe, eastern Canada, and the eastern United States (Francis 20).62 As I propose in my discussion of Duncan’s iconic image of riding the cowcatcher, the focus on the white eastern travelling body in cross-border adventure literature of the time allowed white eastern   92   writers on both sides of the border to easily identify with dominant American imperialist rhetoric. Motifs of transformative and aggressive physical movement into the west were already long established in the minds of the North American reading public and lent themselves to the reproducible images and formulaic physical motifs of the northeastern American publishing industry. The body in the frontier revival frame did not simply trigger manifest destiny rhetoric, but rather was the very language of manifest destiny rhetoric. Because manifest destiny rhetoric centred around the white eastern male body, it was essentially a language of Anglo-Saxon imperialism that, while originating earlier and more visibly in American culture, was available to Canadian writers and applicable to a cross-border west. The political uncertainty and geographical permeability of the western border between Canada and the United States in the nineteenth century was conducive to a mythical cross-border west in the works of Canadian and American writers. In the first half of the nineteenth century, there were ongoing negotiations about the American and Canadian border; in fact, the western border was not finalized until the Oregon treaty in 1846 (Nugent 88-9). In the later half of the century, American manifest destiny rhetoric about the continental “domination of Anglo-Saxon American republicanism” in a cross-border west was often aimed at Canada, and corresponded with the completion of the Canadian Pacific Railway in the 1880s, the opening of the western Canadian frontier, and the swell of American immigration into the Canadian west (Doyle, North 7).63 As Robert Thacker notes, the late nineteenth century saw many cross-border influences in American and Canadian depictions of the west, notably in the work of American and Canadian frontier artists such as Frederick Remington and Paul Kane (6-7). American and Canadian adventure writers, mostly located in the east, also conflated the western regions of Canada and the United States (Doyle, North 132; Mount 100). It is interesting to note that the considerable influx   93   of Canadian writers to the northeastern United States corresponds with a spike in American immigration and interest in western Canada. I see these two phenomena (the presence of Canadian writers in the northeastern United States and American interest in western Canada) as intersecting in the physical motifs of frontier revival literature. The metaphors of westward journeys that described American immigration to western Canada were being promoted by the eastern American publishing industry, in which Canadian writers participated. Canadian and American writers portrayed Canada as the next logical step in the continental expansion of Anglo- Saxon culture, and enacted this progress through the white, eastern, male body. 3.4 Setting the Stages of Frontier Literature 3.4.1 Exploration and Settlement The earliest stage of eastern North American literature about western frontier settings that would have precipitated the frontier revival by a hundred years includes exploration literature at the turn of the nineteenth century. Beginning in the late eighteenth century, explorers such as Alexander Mackenzie and Alexander Henry wrote on behalf of the fur trading companies about their travels in the Canadian northwest. They travelled at a time when the boundaries between the United States and British North America were still being decided upon and in many ways their work reveals how the earliest English exploration texts about western parts of the continent were essentially cross-border in nature. Thacker points out that the publication of Mackenzie’s book in 1801 actually motivated U.S. President Thomas Jefferson to request and organize the cross- continental expedition of Lewis and Clark in 1804 (1-2). Because the western Canadian- American border was not finalized until 1846, these texts establish the idea of the continental   94   northwest as an amorphous western region that is available to be exploited by eastern metropolitan interests. As well, these texts establish the idea of the eastern white male body as a symbol of eastern Anglo-Saxon civilization that straddles Canadian, British, and American culture. Written in the style of business reports, they do not attach heavy symbolism to the westward journey in the style of later adventure writers. Greenfield points out that compared to earlier British explorers such as Mackenzie, American explorers beginning with Lewis and Clark actually expressed national affiliation and conveyed the western frontier journey as a symbolically patriotic enterprise (78-79) and American travellers as “models and embodiments” of the nation (81). These early exploration texts established the idea of the white eastern travelling body in a cross-border west as symbolic of the progress of Anglo-Saxon civilization, an idea that became more specifically nationalistic in the early texts of Lewis and Clark. However, these early exploration texts, written before the waves of westward immigration and manifest destiny rhetoric, focus much less on the body as a recognizable symbol of imperialist expansion than do texts by later authors who wrote about the frontier once westward migration was in full swing. Nineteenth-century pioneer texts, particularly those by women, can also be seen as partly influencing frontier revival literature. By using the term pioneer literature, I refer specifically to largely autobiographical, first person accounts on behalf of settlers participating in westward migration and settlement in North America during the nineteenth century.64 After exploration literature, pioneer literature represents a second major phase in literary representations of westward expansion. Pioneer literature contributed to aspects of frontier revival literature in several ways. Pioneer accounts are travel narratives in which individual travellers’ westward journeys explicitly represent more wide scale migrations, cultural encounters, and expansionist discourse of the time. In this way, they establish the template of an eastern traveller, who, rather   95   than an isolated explorer, is an average citizen whose journey represents the process of ostensibly expanding and establishing ideas of nation. They also employ autobiography to represent this link between individual westward travel and nation building. Because of the large number of first hand pioneer accounts and their historical significance for scholars across various disciplines, there has been a great deal of American and Canadian scholarship about pioneer literature.65 During the last two or three decades, revisionist feminist approaches to pioneer literature have sought to shed light on the roles of female frontier settlers.66 In fact, given widescale contemporary recognition of earlier female pioneer figures such as Laura Ingalls Wilder and Susanna Moodie, it is necessary to briefly address certain key differences between such earlier pioneer literature and the later frontier revival literature that I write about. For example, women’s pioneer texts tend to focus on the more traditionally feminine domestic roles of the authors, whereas women’s frontier revival authors assume more public and stereotypically masculine roles of adventure travellers. While pioneer texts focus more on daily, personal events, frontier revival literature is more concerned with both the physical Movement of the traveller and the broader ideas of Change that such movement represents. The more masculine role that frontier revival authors assume tends to involve greater levels of agency, not just in representing cultural discourses about heroism or progress, but also in negotiating and expanding such discourse. Frontier revival literature is also about eastern visitors who only temporarily visit the west and who witness westward expansion with a sense of critical distance: visitors do not settle. As the term suggests, frontier revival literature documents westward expansion in a retrospective light amidst an increasingly populated western frontier. While pioneer authors live and witness the expansion of the frontier, frontier revival authors relive an increasingly mythologized frontier. Frontier revival literature must also be seen within the context of the mass media boom in urban,   96   eastern North American cities because it is written for a media savvy urban audience. Women frontier revival authors, while sharing some of the discursive conflicts, motifs, and interests of earlier pioneer writers, write in a way that consciously takes advantage of modern technology and social developments in opportunities for women to appropriate and critique urban, eastern frontier mythology from feminist perspectives. 3.4.2 Parkman, Turner, and Roosevelt Frances Parkman’s The Oregon Trail (1849), which was reissued again and again in the late nineteenth century, emphasizes the role of the eastern adventurer as a symbol of the greater westward expansion of Anglo-Saxon culture. The expansion of U.S. territories to the Pacific coast in the 1840s ended the first main period of westward American expansion (Nugent xv), a period of geographical territorial expansion that relied heavily upon the ideology of early manifest destiny rhetoric about the divine right of Anglo-Saxon Americans to take over the continent. Writing at the peak of this westward expansion, and obviously self-conscious about this wider cultural symbolism, Parkman elects himself to the dual roles of traveller and myth-maker. While technically writing as a historian, his narrative is more personal than objective. His journey is also symbolic of the wider migration that was taking place and to which he constantly alludes. In comparison to earlier explorers and settlers, Parkman is also writing deliberately in the role of adventure-tourist as one who blatantly symbolizes and mythologizes, rather than simply anticipating or participating in, westward migration. Most importantly, the meta-narrative of Parkman’s text revolves around the journey and the daily physical movements of his body. I see The Oregon Trail as helping to establish the frontier revival frame because it consists of a   97   metonymic traveller, a cyclical westward journey, and tests of endurance including a loss and renewal of self-control, and a return home. Written at the end of the first peak of westward migration, Parkman’s metonymic journey captures the ideological context of westward expansion in a formulaic physical journey and in a set of recurring physical motifs. The emphasis on his own white, eastern, male body shows that he represents a specifically Anglo-Saxon idea of progress, which he repeatedly tests through trials in the wilderness and a final return home at the end of the text.67 As he writes in the preface to his 1892 edition, his individual journey was part of a greater movement of “the sons of civilization, drawn by the fascinations of a fresher and bolder life, [who] thronged to the western wilds in multitudes” (ix). This frame became particularly important during the late nineteenth-century nostalgia for a lost frontier when the idea of capturing and reliving the lost glory days of continental expansion was particularly popular. Parkman’s symbolic journey sets the precedent for later travellers, who, seeking to evoke ideas of manifest destiny, can revive frontier ideology by reliving this frame in the wilderness. 3.4.3 Frederick Jackson Turner Historian Frederick Jackson Turner is a central figure of the frontier revival frame at the end of the nineteenth century. As Nugent shows, the late 1900s saw another peak in American imperialism, this time aimed at offshore ventures (xv). However, part of this imperialism involved a renewal of interest in expanding territory northward (Bloom, 32; Doyle, North 147). As Doyle shows in North of America, Turner’s lament over a vanishing frontier captured a wider cultural nostalgia for a lost American experience, which corresponded with literary portrayals, particularly of western Canada, as a last American frontier to the north (Doyle 147-148). In 1893, Turner   98   lamented the close of the American frontier at the Chicago World’s Fair and declared that “[T]he advance of American settlement westward, explain [s] American development” (31) and defines the “dominant individualism” (Turner 165) of the “American intellect” (189). The physical motifs that Turner uses to represent an ideal of national progress through westward expansion are so pervasive in his text that they are easy to miss—a sign that the frontier revival frame was embedded in the North American imagination. Similar to Parkman, he describes a prototypical eastern traveller who undergoes a cyclical loss and renewal of control on the frontier. Like Parkman, Turner describes this process through the metonymic body of the eastern traveller, whose westward journey “is the line of most rapid and effective Americanization” (167). However, compared to Parkman, Turner makes this metonymic connection explicit and in his brief essay straightforwardly lists the physical stages of a frontier journey that he sees as defining American progress and identity. This description of the physical stages of a frontier journey inadvertently serves as a nationalistic self-help manual on what types of individual bodies and physical movements represent the whole. These physical movements were to go beyond discourses of nationalism to become the blueprint for North American adventure literature of the time. First there is a loss of control in which “[t]he wilderness masters the colonist” (167). Then “he fits himself into the Indian clearings and follows the Indian trails. Little by little he transforms the wilderness, but the outcome is not the old Europe . . . here is a new product that is American” (167).68 Envisioning the frontier as a site of “perrenial rebirth” (32), Turner portrays the westward expansion of the white, eastern traveller as a nationalist ritual that can be continually reenacted. With the close of the American frontier, this “perennial rebirth” (32) in a new frontier could easily be adopted by Canadian writers because of the corporeal emphasis on the eastern white travelling body whose westward journey represents a racialized form of cross-border   99   imperialist expansion. Turner’s frontier thesis condenses and popularizes the metaphorical connection between the eastern travelling body and cross-border manifest destiny ideals.69 3.4.4 Theodore Roosevelt Theodore Roosevelt’s idea of the strenuous life at the turn of the twentieth century further emphasized the global imperialist symbolism of the frontier revival frame, as well as its strongly racialized and gendered parameters. At the end of the nineteenth century, Roosevelt’s philosophy of the strenuous life influenced American writers to depict the Canadian wilderness as a new alternative frontier for masculine adventure and the expression of American expansionist rhetoric (Doyle, North 114; Mount 99). Just as Roosevelt desired urban Americans to rediscover the masculine values of the wilderness, Canadian and American writers in the northeastern American publishing industry of the 1890s wrote “brawny tales of outdoor life” (Mount 99) for an urban audience (Mount 99). Like Parkman and Turner, Roosevelt mythologizes the western frontier through motifs of the metonymic eastern travelling body in the west. His series The Winning of the West, published between 1889 and 1896, is dedicated to Parkman and explores what he sees as the “spread of the English-speaking peoples over the world’s waste spaces” (15). Roosevelt takes the frontier revival frame further to make a direct connection between the individual American citizen and a global, or at the very least, continental imperialist duty. In Roosevelt’s “The Strenuous Life” speech, in which he promotes American imperialist involvements in the Pacific in 1899, he confirms that “as it is with the individual, so it is with the nation” (4) and Roosevelt’s ideal heroic individual, explicitly gendered as white and male,70 is one whose personal willingness to “wrest triumph from toil and risk” (3) parallels the responsibilities that confront [the U.S.] in Hawaii,   100   Cuba, Porto Rico, and the Philippines” (6-7). His use of the physical motifs of the metonymic travelling body, the cyclical journey, and a loss and renewal of control from the frontier revival frame self-consciously places him in the same myth-making tradition as Parkman and Turner. Roosevelt uses the language of the frontier to link the body of the individual American not only to westward expansion, but to an imperialist mission that is now aimed at the world at large. As in Duncan’s concept of “getting as far as you can go” (66), the westward movement of the eastern travelling body represents cross-border ideas of progress as the manifest destiny of white Anglo- Saxon cultures. 3.4.5 Male American Frontier Revival Authors in Western Canada71 Late nineteenth-century male adventure writers in the northeastern American publishing industry, who were responding to Roosevelt’s call for the “strenuous life,” often wrote about Canadian and American western regions as though they were interchangeable (Mount 100). Some of these writers such as Julian Ralph, W.H.H. Murray, and Charles Dudley Warner were obviously influenced by manifest destiny rhetoric and explicitly promoted the expansion of “Anglo-Saxon American republicanism over the whole western hemisphere” (Doyle, North 7). However, what has been hitherto ignored by scholarly discussions of these cross-border writers is their representation of the eastern travelling body to symbolize ideas of continental expansion. Even more than Parkman, Turner, and Roosevelt, they draw attention to the body as self-consciously re- living frontier activities and renewing American cultural progress. Taking advantage of the formulaic popular adventure narrative, these writers focus on their individual physical experiences in the wilderness through detailed personal observations, anecdotes, and illustrations. At the same   101   time, they mythologize this very personal experience through allusions to frontier mythology. Writing more in the style of adventure narratives rather than dry historical accounts, American journalists and adventure authors such as W.H.H. Murray and Hamlin Garland create heroic personae that are at once personal and larger than life—both individualized and metonymic of collective imperialist goals. By writing about themselves performing familiar physical activities in the wilderness, they exploit motifs that emphasize the metonymic value of their physical movements and overall journeys. As well, because of the blurring of actual Canadian and American western regions in these texts, manifest destiny rhetoric is less obviously associated with nation, and is especially coded through the white, eastern travelling body. It is important to remember that while these texts may appear to a modern reader to be uniformly imperialist, they actually reveal varying attitudes to westward expansion that are hidden in the formulaic conventions of popular literature. Upon paying close attention to the representation of the body in these texts, I find varying degrees of complexity and self-awareness in these authors’ attitudes to the imperialist goals that they represent. This is nowhere more evident than in cross-border texts by women authors whose female bodies inevitably disrupt the ideological basis of the frontier revival frame. 3.5 “Oh for a Precedent:” Women’s Cross-Border Texts One has only to look at frontier revival texts by women authors of the time to find a range of richly diverse and complex perspectives on westward expansion. The six women I have chosen to study in my dissertation epitomize the use of the female travelling body to present a range of critical perspectives on cross-border expansionist rhetoric of the day. Of course, like their male   102   counterparts, these women inevitably have diverging backgrounds, aims, and affiliations. Some, like Grace Gallatin were devoted suffragists. Others, like Mary Schäffer were wealthy adventurers who prioritized the pursuit of personal recreation or spiritual growth. Some, including Gallatin and Schäffer started off assisting their husbands with literary adventure writing. Schäffer and Elizabeth Taylor also use hobbies relating to ethnography or botany as a pretext for travel. Sara Jeannette Duncan, and Agnes Laut were first and foremost professional writers who wrote primarily to support themselves and frequently changed their writing style to suit their audience. Agnes Deans Cameron left her career as a teacher to be a professional writer, a path which was unfortunately cut short by her untimely death. As a group these authors present a striking counter- perspective to male frontier adventure writers of the time in that they use the same style, subject matter, and physical motifs as male frontier revival authors, but with two important differences. They all focus on gender through an interest in the women that they meet or observe on their journeys and by drawing attention to the novelty of doing stereotypically masculine activities as women. And they share a subtle skepticism about imperialism, which they express through the lens of their gendered perspective. As scholars of women’s travel literature and of American imperialism would argue, this intersection of proto-feminism and anti-imperialism is hardly a coincidence in the writing of nineteenth-century middle-class white women whose subject positions were generally caught between privileged socio-economic status and the disenfranchisement of their gender.72 Feminist scholars have shown that there is no better place to examine intersections between gender identity and competing social discourses than the performative body (Butler 3; Sidonie Smith, “Performativity” 11; Sidonie Smith and Watson, “Mapping” 9).73 Cognitive linguists such as Margaret Freeman, Elizabeth Hart, Bruce McConachie, and Eve Sweetser also show how bodies   103   perform ideological concepts through specific image schemas, conceptual metaphors, and frames. As Elizabeth Hart observes, cognitive linguists see the body as central to making, rather than merely performing meaning.74 However, Judith Butler’s idea of rewriting ideas of sex and gender through the body (18) offers visions of creative agency that in some ways overlap with cognitive linguistic readings of how the body makes and essentially remakes meaning. By acting out the frontier revival frame with a focus on the novelty of their female bodies in stereotypically masculine heroic roles, female adventure writers engage in a double performance of reliving the frontier not only as tourists, but as women. They disrupt the gender roles of the white middle- class easterners for whom they write. This physical challenge to the frontier revival frame is an ideological challenge not merely to gender codes of the day, but to the very illusion of the eastern travelling body as a neutral and objective symbol of American cultural progress.75 These female adventurers thus enact what Butler refers to as an “enabling disruption” (7) that occurs when women writers live the frontier revival frame through the female body. Frontier revival literature by women at the end of the nineteenth century is more self- conscious and subversive in the use of physical motifs than comparable work by men. This is largely due to women’s focus on the novelty of the female body in adventuring roles normally associated with men. The challenge of adjusting to physical tasks that are par for the course in men’s adventure literature occupies much of these texts and adds a whole other layer of meaning to the imperialism of the frontier revival frame. All of a sudden, the eastern travelling body is not merely reliving frontier ideology, but rather fighting for the right to do so. Furthermore, the obstructions in this struggle are not merely the climate, the rough terrain, or people of other ethnic origins encountered along the way, but rather the very gender codes that the eastern traveller carries with her from the east. Grace Gallatin’s exclamation, “oh for a precedent!” (110) in her   104   brief stint in a cattle round up, expresses her physical awkwardness in trying an activity that is normally lived by western male labourers and symbolically relived by eastern male adventure writers. By placing themselves in masculinist adventuring roles, the authors extend ideals of individualism and progress to other women and also subtly throw the very imperialist terms of these ideals open to criticism and re-interpretation. These authors contribute to the emerging figure of the new woman, which Patterson defines as “at once a character type, a set of distinct goals, and a cultural phenomenon . . . a distinctly modern ideal of self-refashioning” and political reform for women (2). The increased presence of women in the work force and the professionalism of middle class women challenged middle-class gender codes and gave rise to this figure in works by female journalists such as Sara Jeannette Duncan (Fiamengo 23). In Front Page Girls, Jean Lutes shows that late nineteenth-century American women journalists used “stunt-girl” personae with a focus on the novel spectacle of the female body in public and on the personal and subjective experience of women authors in a way that revealed the underlying subjectivity of more conventional, male dominated journalistic discourse (5). Scholars of Canadian women’s journalism show that this focus on sensationalized female personae existed in Canadian journalism as well (Fiamengo 14; Lang 5), which supports my claim that Canadian and American women popular writers used representations of the female body to destabilize imperialist discourse on both sides of the border.76 As well, the focus on the body is even more important in women’s frontier revival literature because of the need to consciously relive a waning frontier through physical activities. The particular authors I have chosen to study share audience, style, geographical regions of publication (east) and travel (mostly western Canada), along with connections to the east coast publishing world, and cross-border backgrounds and influences, all of which make them prime   105   examples of female frontier revival literature. While little is known about Elizabeth Taylor, the daughter of the American consul to Winnipeg knew Ernest Seton-Thompson while in art school in Paris (Kelcey 58) and also contributed travel writing to two major east coast nature magazines (Outing and Travel). Her series of articles entitled “A Woman in the Mackenzie Delta,” published in Outing in 1894-95, documents her journey to the mouth of the Mackenzie. Duncan and Laut were both fixtures in ex-patriot Canadian journalism circles in the United States. They published novels, as well as journalism in many different Canadian and American magazines, and Laut was a well known popular historian.77 Duncan’s A Social Departure: How Orthodocia and I Went Around the World By Ourselves (1890) begins her global journey with a trip on the C.P.R. Laut’s Enchanted Trails of Glacier Park (1926) takes place in Montana’s Glacier Park, but she alludes to Canada frequently and describes the frontier regions of Canada and the United States as interconnected. In A Woman Tenderfoot (1900), Grace Gallatin describes a journey with her husband through the Canadian and American Rockies. As Mount observes, Gallatin was not only part of the east coast literary scene because of her husband, Canadian ex-patriot wilderness writer Ernest Seton-Thompson, but also because of her family’s social connections in New York (Mount 103). She was a dedicated suffragist (Skidmore 84) and vocal supporter of women’s literature (Skidmore 78). Aside from helping to illustrate her husband’s books, she wrote several book- length travel accounts in her own right. While Cameron and Schäffer published articles here and there, they each published one full-length travel book set in the Canadian northwest and achieved a fair amount of success during their day, despite relatively minimal but sustained recognition in Canadian literary studies.78 While Cameron was originally from Victoria, B.C., The New North (1909) documents her travels from Chicago, where she lived and worked, to the Mackenzie Delta. Schäffer, originally from Philadelphia, wrote Old Indian Trails (1911) to document her travels   106   through the Rockies, where she eventually chose to remain. All of these women had cross-border connections either through marriage, family, residence, or profession. They all describe their journeys as taking place in a mythic cross-border west. It is important to mention that there are many other female writers who I considered including in this study, but whose work, for various reasons, I have chosen not to explore in detail. My research began by studying American adventure authors who were writing about Canadian wilderness settings according to American imperialist discourses at the turn of the century. The more female adventure literature I read, the more I gravitated toward literature by women who were immersed in the eastern publishing industry and who wrote about cross-border western settings. Such literature represents a climax in the projection of American imperialist discourse onto Canada in wilderness literature of the time. It also provides the most interesting and layered grounds for comparison because of the repetition of familiar motifs and the focus on the body.79 The women I have chose to study write rich and complicated texts using the frontier revival frame. They focus on the novelty of being female adventurers and self-consciously describe their journeys in the wilderness using similar motifs of physical movement. They all critique the very manifest destiny rhetoric that they draw upon. These stylistic and thematic ties emerge through their uniquely cross-border perspective on women’s issues and on imperialism. The very cross- border nature of their texts contributed to their failure to be claimed in either the field of Canadian or American literature. However, they provide key evidence of the countercultural literary strategies that the frontier revival frame made available to women on both sides of the border. Just as American imperialist discourse is coded through the cross-border white travelling body in frontier revival literature, the cross-border promotion of women’s rights is coded through the white travelling female body.   107   3.6 Examples of the Frontier Revival Frame in Texts by Male Authors W.H.H. Murray’s Daylight Land (1888), Julian Ralph’s On Canada’s Frontier (1892), and Hamlin Garland’s Trail of the Goldseekers (1899) epitomize frontier revival literature written by American men at the end of the nineteenth century and exemplify the roles80 of the frontier revival frame.81 These texts all focus on the eastern travelling body as a metonym for manifest destiny. Furthermore, they present this role of the eastern traveller as white and male. They contain a cyclical journey, and use the motifs of controlled loss of control, renewal of cultural authority, and a final return.82 I provide examples from these texts in order to clarify how these roles emerge in frontier revival literature. These authors focus on the role of the traveller as metonym of manifest destiny values and emphasize the movements of the travelling body in representing such values. In his campy, fantastical travel narrative, Daylight Land, W.H.H. Murray justifies his departure with elaborate, flowery language: “The fate of Phaeton has warned me, and the pearly shell car of the Dolphins is small. I go as a pilgrim, but a pilgrim favored by the gods” (18). He light-heartedly describes himself as a heroic figure who has a higher duty to leave his family in the east for the sake of his western travels. Often resorting to hackneyed, pseudo-Shakespearean prose, Murray’s self- description of his role as traveller is typical of the exaggerated tone of frontier revival literature compared to the solemnity of earlier works such as Parkman’s The Oregon Trail. Murray’s exaggeration shows a heightened self-consciousness of his travelling body in symbolizing manifest destiny. His irreverent tone also implies that his role is essentially derivative in its imitation of such earlier works, and in the context of countless images of travelling bodies in the booming periodical industry. One of these travel journalists, Julian Ralph, published a collection of essays written for Harpers Magazine about his travels in the Canadian west, in which he comes   108   to Canada to partake in and “witness . . . newer forces of nation-building on our continent” (vi). As with Murray, Ralph presents his own travels in the Canadian west as a higher American calling. This self-conscious representation of the traveller’s body as a force of American continental expansion voices collective anxieties about the decrease of free land in the United States and the effect of the Yukon gold rush in luring Americans northward. Hamlin Garland’s Trail of the Goldseekers documents “the last great march of the kind which could ever come in America, so rapidly were the wild places being settled up” (8). All three authors deliberately place their travelling bodies at the forefront of the larger movement of westward continental expansion. Furthermore, Murray, Ralph, and Garland also emphasize the corporeal signs of their white, eastern masculinity in focussing on the symbolic role of their travelling bodies. Murray carefully describes himself and his companions as part of a white, elite, masculine sporting culture in recounting their time in Victoria: “What a day we four gray-headed boys had at this most western city of our race, thrust out from the continent like a picket in front of an encamped army” (330). As in this example, their physical identities as white, eastern men go hand-in-hand with their implicit entitlement to continental expansion. Murray even makes frequent reference to Aboriginal people as existing beneath or behind him and his white, eastern friends on an evolutionary scale. Similarly, Ralph consistently compares the heterogeneous nature of the population in the west to his own eastern pedigree, noting that “it would be difficult to draw a parallel between these labourers and any class or condition of men in the East” (323). His position as an easterner is privileged throughout the book as one who lives the western expansion, but ultimately “witness[es]” (vi) and portrays such expansion from his eastern point of view. Garland also notes that “every train from the East brought other prospectors to stand dazed and wondering   109   before the squalid little camp” at the end of the line (18). While Garland is critical of the effects of this tide of migration to the west, he still privileges his position in the eastern establishment by associating his trip with eastern symbolism of cultural progress. All three men portray their white, eastern identity as literally and symbolically at the forefront of western expansion and also characterize this continental destiny as distinctly masculine. Murray, Ralph, and Garland present a temporary loss of physical control (or what I refer to as controlled loss of control) followed by a renewal of control, and symbolic return, so as to indicate a test of cultural authority in the west. Murray portrays his physical struggle in the wilderness as symbolic of a greater challenge to national destiny when he documents “pushing up into a strange region known only to the Indians and the Hudson Bay Post folk, through an atmosphere pure and bracing as men ever rode in” (143). By describing the territory as relatively unknown to white easterners, Murray represents his physical struggle as a test of his white eastern authority. Similarly, Ralph contends that “Bunyan would have strengthened the Pilgrim’s Progress had he known of such conditions with which to surround his hero” (305). This allusion to Pilgrim’s Progress, a text that was extremely popular amongst early American Christians (Macdonald 23), places his journey westward in both a wider, heroic tradition of allegorical journeys and also in the context of northeastern American manifest destiny rhetoric. As well, his discussion of the difficulty of his journey as heroic emphasizes that his western journey is a symbolic test of cultural control. Garland echoes Roosevelt’s concept of the strenuous life by declaring that on his journey, he “willingly and with joy took the long way round, the hard way through” (8). By the time that Garland published Trail of the Goldseekers, motifs of continental expansion were so recognizable that such descriptions of embracing physical hardship would have   110   been understood as signifying the redemptive cultural renewal of manifest destiny in a mythical cross-border west. The other form of renewed control experienced in the texts occurs through the cyclical nature of the journeys either in an imagined or a literal return home. This motif of a cyclical foreign journey that involves a symbolic loss and return to self-control is as old as western literature itself and occurs in fictional and non-fictional travel narratives.83 Usually in literature, the cyclical journey represents a process of overcoming a psychological duality in the mind of the traveller, who must negotiate and reestablish cultural distinctions, prejudices, and often real social inequalities that are acknowledged by authors to varying degrees. In American frontier revival literature, this cyclical journey is best exemplified in Turner’s idea of “perrenial rebirth” (166) on the frontier, in which the westward journey represents a process of testing the boundaries of northeastern Anglo-Saxon culture in the west. In cross-border frontier revival literature, the frontier (along with its racial heterogeneity, uncertain territorial boundaries, often relaxed social institutions, and wilderness) represents a physical, psychological, and cultural threat that the traveller self-consciously uses to test and ultimately to prove the authority of northeastern manifest destiny through recurring physical trials and a formulaic return home. Because of the cross-border nature of these texts, this renewal is often exaggerated as a return home to American soil. For instance, in Daylight Land, Murray declares, “we had come to the end of our journey . . . and with happy hearts we were ready to turn our faces toward our distant homes. What a revelation it had been to us!” (333). Completing the pilgrimage that he establishes at the beginning of the text, Murray reminds the reader that his westward journey was not a factual account of the western regions he explored, but rather a psychological and cultural “revelation” (33) for the white, male, eastern traveller. Similarly, Garland comments at the end of his book   111   that “the goldseekers are still seeking. I withdrew, but they went on. In the warmth and security of my study, surrounded by the peace and comfort of my native Cooly, I thought of them as they went toiling over the trail, still toward the north” (259). As with Murray, Garland ends his narrative at home, to the east of his frontier journey where he looks back on his trip as a psychological process of renewal that is part of an ongoing cultural phenomenon of westward expansion. Both Murray and Garland convey the symbolic nature of this return home through physical descriptions of deliberate and controlled retreat. While Ralph does not describe his homeward journey, he does make numerous allusions to northeastern American culture in the last chapter of the book and ends by describing himself again as a witness who must maintain critical and cultural distance from his surroundings. These descriptions of return reassert the privilege of the authors as white, eastern travellers. 3.7 The Frontier Revival Frame and Women’s Cross-Border Adventure Texts For a brief overview of how female frontier revival authors differ in their use of this frontier frame I turn again to some examples from Sara Jeannette Duncan’s A Social Departure and Grace Gallatin’s A Woman Tenderfoot. Both Duncan and Gallatin illustrate the kind of response that many women writers had to the works of male authors such as Murray, Ralph, and Garland. Duncan and Gallatin contribute to the dawn and height (respectively) of frontier revival literature. They skillfully use the popular frontier revival frame in a way that focusses on their unique and conflicting perspectives as women adventurers. Their relative fame and success indicates their ability to use this frame to resonate with audiences and peers.84 Both women emphasize the novelty of the female body in the metonymic role of traveller. They also embrace the loss of   112   control that they experience throughout their journey, and articulate their renewal of control as more of an affirmation and promotion of women’s rights then of imperialist values. By emphasizing the novelty of their physical experience as women adventurers, Duncan and Gallatin challenge the gendered and racialized parameters of frontier revival literature. As Duncan speeds across western Canada at the front of the C.P.R., she encourages readers to feel her mixture of exhilaration and estrangement: “You are projected swiftly into the illimitable, stupendous space ahead, but on a steady solid basis that makes you feel with some wonder that you are not doing anything very extraordinary after all, though the Chinese navies along the road looked at Orthodocia and me as if we were” (59). Her exaggerated feelings of “illimitable, stupendous” (59) physical freedom, along with the allusion to being watched by the railway workers, show an awareness of transgressing gender conventions at the heart of the manifest destiny rhetoric in frontier revival literature. However, her experience of this moment as commonplace proves not only that women are capable of the physical freedom and accompanying ideas of social progress that male travel writers represent, but also that the norms of gender, race, class, and language that underlie such ideas are arbitrary and open to revision. She also hints at this subtle critique of the very imperialism that she draws upon in her self-deprecating and empathic mention of the Chinese railway workers.85 Keenly aware that her adventure tourism challenges gender norms, Gallatin devotes a whole chapter to her affluent, white eastern female readership entitled, “Outfit and Advice for the Woman-Who-Goes-Hunting-With-Her-Husband” (10), in which she cajoles her readers to break out of the mold and “use your muscles” (11), and in which she includes a detailed description and illustration of her own cross-saddle outfit that allows women to ride with the physical freedom of men. Like Duncan, Gallatin advises readers to not merely have a frontier adventure, but to indulge in the physical activities normally reserved for   113   eastern male travellers. She deliberately uses the shock value of her advice to change readers’ perceptions about who can represent and access the concepts of social progress intrinsic to frontier adventure literature. Like Murray, Ralph, and Garland, Duncan and Gallatin focus on the significance of their physical experiences of moving westward, while showing that such travel is even more shocking when done by a woman. By surprising their audience in this way, they destabilize the gender roles of manifest destiny rhetoric and show this rhetoric to be subjective and open to interpretation. Duncan and Gallatin also embrace the very loss of physical and cultural control that male authors portray as threatening to their sense of self. Writers such as Murray, Ralph, and Garland describe physical struggles as necessary tests that ultimately allow them to prove their cultural superiority over the frontier landscape. However, female authors such as Duncan and Garland present the physical freedom of the journey itself as a welcome relief to the restrictions of their everyday lives. For instance, Duncan states that after some time spent on the cowcatcher, “Orthodocia’s hair had come down and I had lost my hat, which naturally would not tend to impress the Celestial mind with the propriety of our progression. We were intensely exhilarated, very comfortable and happy” (60). Duncan’s mock allusion to the “Celestial mind” shows an irreverent awareness that they transgress the gender codes of manifest destiny rhetoric in which women bring domestic propriety to the frontier.86 The fallen hair and hat both connect their increased physical freedom with an emancipation from oppressive gender roles. Gallatin humourously takes advantage of every physical struggle in the wilderness to relish her own physical freedom and prove her general capabilities as a woman. When falling off her horse, she dismisses the advice of her famous adventurer husband, saying, “I had the stage, centre front, and it was all I could attend to” (119). Gallatin’s theatrical enjoyment of this episode emphasizes the   114   pleasure that she takes in the physical hardships of the trail, a pleasure that is valuable in its own right because of the novelty of the freedom that she experiences. Duncan’s and Gallatin’s contentment in this state of disarray is ironic in different ways. On the one hand, it shows that they find freedom in flouting the social conventions they were expected to uphold. On the other hand, it also suggests that their physical loss of control serves a higher purpose, but that this purpose is in itself to revise the ideological framework of heroism that they call upon. They use frontier revival motifs to nod to the metonymic heroism of their male peers and to corresponding manifest destiny ideology. However, by celebrating their own freedom from gender constraints in these physical trials, they appropriate ideas of heroism and cultural progress to foreground the promotion of women’s rights as a higher calling that transcends the border itself. Female authors tend to either avoid the cyclical journey altogether by not returning home, or else to indicate upon their return that they are reestablishing a different kind of return to order than their male peers. Authors such as Duncan and Gallatin also focus more on their personal achievements as women as paradoxically both more important than reestablishing collective ideals and as a way of actually serving to improve those ideals all the more by revising them. At the end of the Canadian part of her journey, Duncan states “Vancouver is the end of things generally, in so far as the C.P.R. and the Dominion of Canada are concerned, and the end of our duties and responsibilities, as indicated by our tickets” (66). She later reminds the reader that the goal of their journey is “chiefly to be amused” (107) and to travel alone as women (476).87 This concept of Vancouver as “the end of things” (66) portrays the west as the “climax of civilization” (Murray 189). However, the fact that Duncan is about to continue on around the world indicates that she is, at once, not bound to the conventions of manifest destiny, and also taking them to an even greater extreme. Her insistence on her journey as a trip of personal pleasure that transcends   115   “duties and responsibilities” (66) also emphasizes her personal freedom as both a novel departure from the ideological underpinnings of frontier revival literature, and as revising these ideas of cultural progress to include increased independence for women. In a sense, her epic all-female global journey uses the ultimate cyclical journey of global westward expansion as later envisioned by Theodore Roosevelt, but with less interest in empire than in proving her capabilities as an independent woman. Similarly, Gallatin ends her book, not by returning home, but by focussing on her own personal transformation. She states, “I know what it means to be a miner and a cowboy, and have risked my life when need be, but, best of all, I have felt the charm of the glorious freedom, the quick rushing blood, the bounding motion, of the wild life, the joy of the living and of the doing” (135-136) and she adds “I am a Woman Tenderfoot no longer” (136). Again, she describes the pleasures of basic physical adventure and freedom for women as the ultimate goals of her journey and ones that she takes back to her fellow eastern American women readers. Her own increased freedom as a woman is thus the goal of her journey, which becomes more important than asserting her imperialist claim to the west. However, the very vocations and actions that she describes, along with the word “Tenderfoot,” are deeply connected in the frontier revival frame to ideas of manifest destiny. This expression of female individualism according to dominant motifs of westward expansion portrays female individualism as a higher goal that improves ideas of cultural progress. True to their female peers, both Duncan and Gallatin subvert the stereotypical cyclical journey (and restoration of control) in frontier revival literature by presenting women’s freedoms as the ultimate Destination/Goal of their journeys—a goal that transcends national boundaries.   116   3.8 Conclusion While many Canadians were geographically and symbolically crossing frontiers at the turn of the twentieth century, women frontier revival writers on both sides of the border were still struggling for the freedom to expand “their horizon [s]” (Schäffer 17), while staking countercultural claims to frontier symbolism of the day. To understand how authors write across, around, or about borders at that time, we should pay attention to the way that both Canadian and American writers work within dominant American frontier discourse in often complex and socially critical ways. In order to gain a fresher and more original perspective on the history of westward expansion, we need to examine popular cross-border adventure texts, particularly those by women authors, in which complicated and rich metaphors of expansion live and breath in the very representation of the body. The body is the literal and the symbolic medium of imperialism in American frontier discourse. Motifs of physical movement define manifest destiny. Types of bodies define ideas of national progress and cross-cultural imperialist goals. The travelling female body—the body of the new woman “getting as far as [she] can go” (66)—redefines ideas of progress in her own image, thereby making Turner’s “perennial rebirth” (166) on the frontier a revival with a difference, an “enabling disruption” (Butler 22). By reclaiming the symbolism of the eastern travelling body, women adventurers relive the frontier revival frame as an ongoing rediscovery and renegotiation of the very terms of cultural progress that they set out to represent. 3.9 Notes to Chapter 3                                                                                                                 56 See the introduction and chapter 2 for a detailed description of terms such as cross-border, and frontier revival.   117                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         57 See chapter 2 for a detailed explanation of my methodology where I break down terms such as conceptual metaphors, and frames in more depth and with examples. In this chapter, I explain in broader terms, why the body is so central to the field of frontier revival literature, and thus why these texts warrant drawing on conceptual metaphor theory in the first place. For broader discussions of conceptual metaphors and image schemas, please refer to Lakoff and Johnson. In this chapter, I offer a broad outline of the frontier revival frame without going into technical detail about frames, which I address in chapter 2. However, for a basic understanding of my use of the term, please refer to Charles Fillmore’s definition of a frame as “any system of concepts related in such a way that to understand any one of them you have to understand the whole structure in which it fits” (111). Eve Sweetser and Gilles Fauconnier also clarify that frames can stem from experiential knowledge as in the case of conceptual metaphors, and they also contain specific roles that trigger the entire frame (Sweetser and Fauconnier 5). In chapter 2, I explain that specific experiential metaphors that map physical movements onto abstract ideas of self-definition fit into the frontier revival frame. I essentially see this frame as a set of metaphors that come from the body and are thus universally accessible, but which are interpreted according to culturally specific ideas relating to manifest destiny. 58 He explains that, “Underpinning the democratic imperialistic urge was the conviction that the American people were, in various senses, exceptional in critical, empowering ways. They believed that, uniquely, they had gloriously abundant natural resources at hand; that the headlong expansion of their space and their numbers were signs of progress and the favor of Providence; and above all, that their ideals, and thus their existence, were morally superior” (235). Furthermore, “Indians, African-Americans, Asians (about to arrive in the West), and Mexicans were obviously ‘others,’ and considered inferior to Anglo-Saxons” (235).   118                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         59 I must reiterate here that not all of the authors that I look at are definitively eastern in origin. For instance, Hamlin Garland was actually from the Midwest. However, I consider these authors as part of what White refers to as the “eastern establishment” because they wrote for eastern publishers and were embedded in the eastern literary scene. 60 The participation of my authors in the east coast publishing industry does not always correspond with their actually coming from or living on the east coast. For instance, Mary Schäffer moved to Banff, Alberta. However, all of them published in the east and wrote primarily for an eastern audience. 61 The Canadian impetus to mythologize Anglo-Saxon westward expansion thus did not gain momentum until the late nineteenth century. As Morrison points out, the rush to finish the railroad and promote westward expansion in Canada was itself a reaction to American encroachment (105). Also, as Katerberg observes, the “importation of American myth” and the creation of Canadian myths occurred simultaneously and are inextricably linked (77). 62 Innis’ thesis also reflects the fact that compared to the United States, where settlement in the west was strongly promoted, Britain did little to encourage settlement into the west, preferring to focus on the fur trade. Western Canada was perceived as a place from which to extract resources that fueled the economy of the east and of Britain itself. 63 For a discussion of how such rhetoric reflected American fixations with travelling north, see Barman’s “Cascadia Once Upon A Time” in Cascadia, The Elusive Utopia: Exploring the Spirit of the People of the Pacific Northwest. 64 One need only look to anthologies of Canadian or American literature to see evidence of   119                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         the important role that pioneer literature has been given in North American literary canons. For instance, Watts and Rachels’ major recent anthology entitled The First West: Writing From the American Frontier 1776-1860 sheds light on the iconic status of American pioneer writers such as David Crockett and Caroline Kirkland (whose pioneer text has similarities to those by Canadians, Suzanna Moodie and Catharine Parr Traill). As well, prominent Canadian anthologies, including Moss’ and Sugars’ recent Canadian Literature in English: Texts and Contexts, foreground the work of pioneer writers such as Susanna Moodie and Catharine Parr Traill as major nineteenth- century Canadian literary figures. 65 For instance, see Atwood; Lyon; Miller; H.N. Smith, Virgin Land; Watts and Rachels; Waterston; Work. 66 See the following: Armitage; Boardman and Woods; Finnegan; Georgi-Findlay; Goldman; Greenberg; Imbarrato; Jameson and McManus; Kelcey; Kolodny; Lape; Lawrence; Mead; Miller; Pascoe; Pagh; Tompkins. In terms of important theoretical contributions, Kolodny’s influential Lay of the Land (1975) shows how traditional literature about westward expansion is often highly gendered so that women are associated with the land itself—fertile and also threatening and mysterious—and also as civilizers (9). Other interesting work has been done to show how pioneer women were often expected to represent expansionist discourse within various concepts of the private sphere (Greenberg; Romero; Wexler). Also, work on women’s autobiographical strategies (Goldman; Imbarrato) explore the often conflicting roles that women expressed when telling their stories of frontier travel and settlement. 67 While The Oregon Trail is not technically set in Canadian territory, it sets the precedent for later cross-border texts for several reasons. Parkman journeys to the Pacific Northwest, in which the western border between Canada and the United States was literally just being decided upon. He   120                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         hints at this cultural ambiguity and exchange throughout the book mostly through frequent encounters with Canadians. Partly due to the ongoing shifts in territorial boundaries, Parkman focusses on corporeal signs of identity so as to identify the westward expansion of American manifest destiny as white and Anglo-Saxon. This creates a broader form of racialized imperialism that seems to transcend the shifting geographical borders of the time. 68 While Turner’s frontier is decidedly American and does not include a cross-border setting, he emphasizes the continual expansion of Anglo-Saxon culture from east to west as the underlying imperialist impetus of his nationalist frontier myth. This racialized imperialist logic could conveniently be applied to and within Canada at the time. 69 In Constance Lindsay Skinner: Writing on the Frontier, Jean Barman notes that Skinner and Turner were very interested in each other’s work (116-118). Their correspondence demonstrates Turner’s influence on frontier revival literature and the cross-border writers working in this genre (Barman, Constance 116-118). 70 He describes the role of the American woman as the “housewife, the helpmeet of the homemaker, the wise and fearless mother of many healthy children” (4). 71 For the purposes of my study of cross-border women authors, I focus more on their male American as opposed to male Canadian contemporaries because these women authors were more heavily influenced by trends in contemporary American literature and journalism, and in particular by several American male contemporaries. A fuller discussion of their male Canadian contemporaries such as George Grant and Sandford Flemming lies outside the scope of this dissertation. However, my own impression of Grant’s Ocean to Ocean (1873), which documents his westward journey to survey land for the C.P.R., is that he adopts the imperialist rhetoric about the westward continental destiny of Anglo-Saxon culture at the heart of American manifest   121                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         destiny discourse through the use of the frontier revival frame. However, on the surface, he articulates this as part of a wider British Imperial destiny. He focusses on how to unite a scattered Canada (that he perceives to be divided along geographical, ethnic, and linguistic lines) into a coherent extension of the British Empire—and how to fend off the imperial advances of the U.S. In his book, imperialist westward expansion is still gendered and racialized, but it lacks the forceful metonymic connection between the individual and the independent nation, as well as the desire to assert and restore cultural control, in the work of American male frontier revival authors. 72 In Discourses of Difference, Sara Mills discusses how women travel writers’ gender identity historically places them in an ambivalent position toward imperialism. In relation to women’s travel writing set in Canada, this textual ambivalence is also explored by Wendy Roy in Maps of Difference, and Sherrill Grace in the introduction to A Woman’s Way Through Labrador. Alison Sneider’s Suffragists in an Imperial Age also shows how nineteenth-century American suffrage literature operated within imperialist American rhetoric. Sneider’s text acts as a reminder for modern literary and post-colonial scholars in particular, to pay attention to how women writers are often forced to conceal anti-imperialist attitudes within historically specific imperialist discourses. 73 In Bodies that Matter, Butler argues that our physical bodies cannot exist outside of discourse in the sense that they inevitably perform concepts about sex and gender that are ideologically imposed on the body (10). 74 Elizabeth Hart states that “[e]mbodiment, in Butler’s scenario, is thus something that happens to the body, is an imposition upon the body by culture” (Elizabeth Hart 30), while according to cognitive linguists, “language and discourse are themselves . . . cognitively embodied” (Elizabeth Hart 31).   122                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         75 My implication here is that these authors create a different relationship to their readers through their representation of the female body in a transgressive performance of imperialist westward expansion. Instead of implying that they, as adventure writers, can objectively represent the nation as a whole, they show that there is an inherent tension between collective ideologies and the diversity of individuals they are supposed to represent. The authors’ self-reflexivity is transferred to the reader so that being more self-aware is incorporated into the very physical movements of the frontier revival frame. Rather than merely identifying with the physical movements of the frame, the reader is encouraged to recognize the significance and tensions related to those movements. This very self-consciousness facilitates and makes room for readers to tap into types of social critique in women’s frontier revival literature and to envision themselves as not just imitating the frontier revival frame, but reiterating it with a sense of cultural self- criticism and self-awareness. If being aware of the frame becomes part of the frame itself, then readers are more inclined to identify with the frame as a reiterative paradigm that is open to a diverse range of interpretations and revisions. 76 The somewhat permeable nature of the border at that time in history means that is admittedly difficult to find a vocabulary with which to describe writers who lived and worked in a way that defied easy affiliation with either Canada or the United States. I use the term cross-border though to acknowledge that despite the ambiguity of the border at the time, it still existed and was still being crossed in ways by these authors. An awareness of the border, and an anxiety about subtly differing national discourses, runs parallel to the pushing of boundaries and questioning of national identities in these texts. In some ways this makes sense because ambiguity about the differences between Canada and the United States would have fueled increased speculation about such differences, while at the same time increasing cross-border migration and cultural exchange.   123                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         Sara Jeannette Duncan walks a tightrope of simultaneously addressing Canadian, British, and American audiences, while also teasingly invoking subtle cultural differences that underlie these overlapping demographics. 77 For a recent detailed discussion of Laut’s life and work, see Valerie Legge’s introduction to the 2001 reprint of Lords of the North. Misao Dean’s biography of Sara Jeannete Duncan and her introduction to the 2005 reprint of Duncan’s The Imperialist offer thorough insights into Duncan’s legacy as one of Canada’s early internationally renowned writers. 78 For work on Cameron, see Roy’s “Primacy, Technology, and Nationalism in Agnes Deans Cameron’s The New North” and my article “Seeing for Oneself: Agnes Deans Cameron’s Ironic Critique of American Literary Discourse in The New North.” For work on Schäffer, see Janice Sandford Beck’s biography of Schäffer, No Ordinary Woman, and E.J. Hart’s introduction to the 1980 reprint of Schäffer’s Old Indian Trails of the Canadian Rockies. 79 There are many other texts by women authors though that still can be considered part of the frontier revival. Mina Hubbard’s, A Woman’s Way Through Unknown Labrador (1908) is a very good example of frontier revival literature in her use of the frontier revival frame and in her direct response to the journey of her American husband, Leonidas Hubbard and his American travel companion Dillon Wallace’s account of their journey in Lure of the Labrador Wild (1905). Work on Hubbard’s text by Buchanan et al. and Grace has been very helpful in exploring the literary strategies and cultural backdrop of her work in a way that sheds light on the women in my dissertation. However, Hubbard’s journey is set in Labrador and I ultimately decided to narrow my study to travels in western settings for the sake of focussing my research at this stage. Another text of interest that I left out for this same reason is Over the Border (1884) by American author Eliza B. Chase. As well, for the sake of narrowing my focus in terms of the eastern origin or   124                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         orientation of the authors, I chose not to explore Mary Hitchcock’s account of her trip to the Yukon in Two Women in the Klondike (1899). As well, I almost included Caroline Leighton’s book Life at Puget Sound (1884), but decided that partly because she was travelling as a politician’s wife and wrote with a more historical than literary focus, the book did not have the same level of richness in its representation of the body and of pushing cultural boundaries as the texts that I chose to compare in this dissertation. 80 I explain in Chapter 2 that I use the terms frame and role as a nod to specific work done on frames in cognitive linguistic scholarship. 81 W.H.H. Murray’s Daylight Land (1888) and Julian Ralph’s On Canada’s Frontier (1892) are written as rather lighthearted tourist travelogues about the authors’ trips in western Canada. Hamlin Garland’s Trail of the Goldseekers (1899) is more of a serious first person adventure story about Garland’s grueling travels through northern British Columbia as part of the Yukon gold rush. 82 This return represents a kind of restoration of control and familiarity on the part of the traveller and usually coincides with a return to an urban, eastern setting that they describe as civilization. 83 It can be traced from the ancient heroic (Homer’s The Odyssey) to the Christian allegory (Dante’s Inferno; Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress) to fictional and non-fictional colonial travel narratives ranging from Aphra Behn’s Oroonoko (1680) to Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness (1902). 84 I address the levels of success and public recognition of the authors individually in the principal close-reading chapters of the dissertation. However, I make this claim about their having achieved varying levels of fame based on considerations such as their connections to other literary figures, their track record of publishing in well-known magazines or with well-known publishers, the   125                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         extent of their literary output, and the positive response to their writing and/or lectures based on their writing. 85 A self-critical awareness of being watched and judged by people of other ethnic backgrounds is a motif that runs throughout women’s frontier revival literature. The authors often express a sense of displacement in imagining what they must seem like to Aboriginal people who they encounter on their way—particularly Aboriginal women. 86 See Greenberg for a fuller discussion of the way that manifest destiny rhetoric was gendered. See work by Romero as well as by Wexler for discussions of nineteenth-century American discourses of imperialism and gendered ideals of domesticity. 87 For descriptions of similar accounts of arrival in Vancouver and Victoria, see the first chapter of Barman’s West Beyond the West.     126   4 Social Departures: Retracing the Female Frontier Revival in Duncan’s A Social Departure (1890) and Taylor’s “A Woman in the Mackenzie Delta” (1894-95) And thus we sped away. -Sara Jeannette Duncan, A Social Departure, 20. 4.1 Introduction I begin my close readings with a comparative study of Sara Jeannette Duncan’s and Elizabeth Taylor’s travel literature set in western Canada. At first glance, these two writers may seem like an odd pairing. Duncan is Canadian, hailing from Brantford, Ontario, while Taylor is an American from St. Paul, Minnesota. Duncan was a prolific journalist and novelist who remains a Canadian cultural icon, but Taylor seems to have written only a few articles and remains so under the literary radar that only a handful of scholars know of her. Duncan wrote an openly fictionalized account of her travels with real life fellow journalist Lily Lewis, while Taylor wrote a more ostensibly non-fictional account of her journey. Duncan travelled west on the C.P.R. line on her way to Japan, and Taylor wrote of her travels North to the Mackenzie Delta. Duncan’s A Social Departure (1890) is undeniably short and fictionalized, often for humourous effect, and Taylor’s account of western Canada is also quite short; therefore, their views on western Canada are limited. However, despite coming from different sides of the border, travelling in different directions, writing for different types of publications, and diverging in the extent to which they semi-fictionalize their travel accounts, they share key recurring motifs of physical motion that situate them in the field of frontier revival literature, and at the forefront of women’s frontier   127   revival literature. My study of representations of physical motion in these texts helps to illuminate a bigger and more detailed picture of the cross-border literary climate in which they wrote. These writers use familiar types of physical description both to fit within this field and to depart from it. These physical motifs point to the cultural capital of the mobile eastern white body that was popular and accessible to writers on both sides of the border as a means of affirming or debating the terms of national citizenship and empire in North America at the end of the nineteenth century (See note 110). Their use of these motifs illustrates cross-border female perspectives on ideas about the continental expansion of Anglo-Saxon culture in western North America at that time. In my new approach to Duncan, I show how she uses repeated bodily motifs to engage in a cross-border dialogue about the role of women in society. Duncan, while prolific and influential, merely scratches the surface of a booming cross-border periodical industry and a well-established American cultural interest in western Canada at the time. Reexamining Duncan from this angle shows the importance of this cross-border rhetoric to Canadian women writers, and to Canadian writers in general. Taylor’s publication in renowned eastern American journals with appeal to Canadian writers, as well as her connections to Canadian literary and political circles, make her work a worthwhile one to pair with Duncan’s. Virtually unknown today, Taylor is a prime example of a writer whose very cross-border caché during her own lifetime has undoubtedly diminished her literary longevity. While Taylor’s serialized magazine articles about travelling to the Mackenzie Delta have gone relatively unnoticed, when seen in the context of the frontier revival, her work provides telling evidence of a cross-border female response to the frontier revival that is further exemplified in the works of later Canadian and American women authors such as Gallatin, Cameron, Schäffer, and Laut. By challenging representations of the   128   female body and of the Canadian-American border in their texts, Duncan and Taylor set the groundwork for these later writers. In my comparative close reading of Duncan’s A Social Departure and Taylor’s “A Woman in the Mackenzie Delta,” I examine their conflicted relationship to the frontier revival frame through their use of conceptual metaphor. Both writers evoke certain aspects of the frontier revival frame such as the eastern traveller, a cyclical westward journey, and physical struggles including a loss and renewal of control. They also depart from this frame to emphasize their female perspective by focussing on different aspects of their journey such as the novelty of personal physical freedom as a more important Destination/Goal than reasserting any sort of imperialist cultural control over the west. These tensions between feminist and imperialist concerns occur in recurring patterns of metaphors throughout the texts. For instance, I focus on how they evoke the frontier revival frame by making frequent reference to testing physical corporeal and geographical boundaries as a way of testing the more abstract limits of the self. Images of expanding boundaries are particularly prevalent in these texts and create interesting parallels between the geographical boundaries between Canada and the United States, the imagined boundary of the frontier, the physical boundaries that travellers test in frontier revival literature, boundaries that constrain women’s physical freedom, and the culturally enforced boundaries that restrict women to the private, domestic sphere. I focus on recurring images of moving in between, through, and at the edges of bounded spaces, which are common in frontier revival literature. I identify a model of self based on a network of metaphors in frontier revival literature that starts at the most complex level with what I define as the SELF-CONTROL IS BODILY CONTROL and GENERIC IS SPECIFIC metaphors whereby the physical movements of the traveller represent degrees and aspects of self-control,   129   which are metonymic for one or more collective group. In particular, I see the LOCATIONAL SELF (LS) and LOCATIONAL EVENT STRUCTURE (LES) metaphors as inheriting these metaphors so that Self-Control is understood according to Normal and Abnormal Locations and aspects of movement through space, which map onto abstract events including states, causations, changes, actions, purposes, means, and difficulties. The SELF AS CONTAINER metaphor, and its related metaphors (such as Central is Essential) and inferences (such as containment offers both protection and limitation), is also very important because containment maps onto the self in the LS and the LES metaphors.88 I argue that containment offers a particular idea of Bodily/Self-Control based on restricted Movement/Change that underlies the LS and LES metaphors. Furthermore, the OBJECTIVE STANDPOINT metaphor, whereby getting outside of oneself offers self-perspective, indicates a fundamental tension in this overall model of self because types of Bodily/Self-Control can be found both in containment and in a lack of containment.89 The type of control travellers seek in resisting the bounds of contained spaces, whether of individual bodies or frontier spaces, is Bodily/Self-Control based on Movement/Change. Other primary metaphors come into play here too, such as Knowing is Seeing because Seeing outside of a confined space represents an increase in Knowledge. Another way of looking at this is to suggest an increase in control over one’s surroundings based on the amount of territory covered (a metaphor that I identify as Knowledge Gained is Distance Covered, which appears in such colloquial phrases such as “she covered a lot of ground” and “he has great depths”). Within this model of self in frontier revival literature there are thus inherent tensions about what constitutes self-control. These tensions emerge in descriptions of testing boundaries. Movement at the edge of bounded spaces represents tension between two different types of self-control, control associated with a lack of Movement/Change,   130   and control associated with Movement/Change. Movement out of bounded spaces often represents a paradoxical temporary loss of control with the possibility of re-establishing a different kind of self-control through increased perspective and Movement/Change. Movement between bounded spaces suggests a shift from one Location/State of Bodily/Self-Control to another. I examine thematic conflict in Duncan’s and Taylor’s texts through the lens of these tensions which I see as inherent to the model of self in frontier revival literature. For instance, Duncan and Taylor express an alternative female focus by such techniques as: highlighting the particularly female nature of Bounded Locations/States, representing a Destination/Goal as an extreme Location/State outside of a bounded space or at an extreme edge of a bounded space, and making small personal events seem like major boundary crossings. My comparison of the use of conceptual metaphor in descriptions of physical movement in these texts sheds light on the emergence of frontier revival literature and the unique use of this field by women writers on both sides of the border. 4.2 Duncan Before analyzing A Social Departure, it is necessary to historically situate the text and take a closer look at some recent scholarship on Duncan. I begin my discussion with Duncan because of her pivotal transitional role in a time of significant cultural change in Canada. Two major developments during the 1880s, when Duncan began her literary career, were the completion of the C.P.R. across western Canada and the beginning of the suffrage movement. These two events resonate in Duncan’s work, especially A Social Departure, in which Duncan questions the place of Canada on the world stage of nation and empire, and that of women’s rights and affiliations as citizens. As Misao Dean observes in her biography of Duncan, A Different Point of View, the   131   1880s saw a rise of nationalism that corresponded with a growing women’s movement (5). Dean suggests that this connection between discourses of nationalism and women’s rights is a repeating pattern (5), which makes sense since questions of nation in the nineteenth century were likely to trigger related questions of citizenship and suffrage. As Sneider points out in Suffragists in an Imperial Age, nineteenth-century American women suffragists often worked within imperialist discourse.90 By adopting aspects of imperialist rhetoric, early feminists argue that remedying the disenfranchisement of women is part of a broader idea of cultural progress that is useful to society as a whole. I argue that travel texts written about western Canada from the 1880s onward offer a stage on which these related questions about nation and gender are performed through the travelling body. As I will show, motifs of physical mobility in such texts are central to ideas of nationhood (in terms of cultural progress) and gender (physical mobility represents a kind of social mobility in the public sphere that is historically more available to men). Texts by American authors, or those that draw on motifs of American imperialism (through westward expansion), are the most forceful in their use of iconic physical motifs. Duncan’s loosely American persona in A Social Departure takes advantage of these motifs to promote women’s rights. In the 1880s, Duncan was responding to specific imperialist texts about western Canada, as well as playing a vocal part in the developing suffrage movement and the boom in female journalism. As Heather Milne points out in “Narrating Nation, Travel and Gender,” A Social Departure first appeared in print in 1888, just three years after the completion of the C.P.R., and on the heels of popular formulaic American and British accounts of the newly opened Canadian west that were distinctly masculinist in nature (440-41). The 1880s also saw a boom in women’s opportunities in the periodical industry in which Duncan participated by writing for the The Globe (Toronto), The Star (Montreal), and The Week (Toronto) (Milne 435-46; Fiamengo 257). Janice   132   Fiamengo notes in “‘Baptized with Tears and Sighs’” that Duncan started her journalistic career when the suffrage movement in Canada was just three years old (263), and she was the first Canadian woman to support suffrage in print (258). A Social Departure was published as a book in 1890 but first appeared as serial articles in the Montreal Star in 1888 and then in Lady’s Pictorial in 1889. A Social Departure (1890) is the bestselling book of Duncan’s career (Milne 432). This success indicates her timely skill at combining nationalist discourses about cultural progress and Canadian westward expansion with questions about women’s suffrage and women’s entry into the public sphere amidst increased opportunities for female journalists and writers. One of the most interesting aspects of Duncan’s text is the way that she uses motifs of physical movement to refer to ideas of nationalism, while avoiding affiliation with any particular nation. Several scholars point out that it is problematic to study Duncan as a Canadian writer because paradigms of Canadian literature are too rigid (Dean 3) and tend to repatriate Duncan as a distinctively Canadian author despite the fact that she herself avoids such fixed categorization (Devereux 41). For instance, Duncan makes many allusions in A Social Departure to being American and I see her use of recurring motifs of physical mobility as locating her partly within a nationalist American discourse of westward continental expansion. However, Duncan’s text cannot be seen as simply American as she uses a Canadian setting and allusions to aspects of Canadian and British identity. Cecily Devereux offers the best recent articulation of Duncan’s complex relationship to ideas of nationhood and empire when she observes that, “Duncan seems to have written for a trans-national readership . . . that represents not a specifically ‘Canadian’ but an Anglo-Saxon identity, locatable in Canada, Britain, the US” (46). This racialized Anglo-Saxon identity is nowhere more evident than in Duncan’s emphasis on the travelling body performing iconic physical movements in the text.91 As with her frontier revival peers, Duncan literally and   133   figuratively moves in between different national affiliations within an overarching white, Anglo- Saxon framework that she communicates on the level of the body. While Duncan was in some ways aiming A Social Departure at a predominantly British readership,92 she identifies more closely with American concepts of mobility. These seemingly disparate nationalist affiliations are connected, because as Devereux notes, to self identify as American “was an imperial gesture that affirmed Anglo-Saxon racial continuity, and, most importantly, power” (48). As I show throughout my analysis, the broader imperialist power of American nationalist discourse lies in the recurring physical motifs of westward expansion. Such motifs stem from persistent nineteenth- century political and literary rhetoric about westward expansion and find a climax in late nineteenth-century frontier revival literature about expanding into the mythic last frontier of western Canada. Examining how this broad Anglo-Saxon imperialism emerges through the travelling body allows for a more nuanced understanding of the Canadianness of Duncan’s literature. Despite her appeal to a broadly Anglo-Saxon audience, her work, as with that of the other authors I discuss, deserves to be studied as transnational in a Canadian literary context. For one thing, Duncan’s writing is remembered primarily in Canada (Devereux 37). Her promotion of Canadian literature (Milne 439) and extensive work in Canadian magazines situate her within a Canadian cultural context. Conflicts in Duncan’s approach can be seen as representative of the very contradictions in Canadian literature of her day. Despite the fact that there was a rise in Canadian nationalism in the 1880s (Dean 5), Canadianness was not really a “functional public category” at that time (Devereux 42). While Milne describes Duncan as dramatizing the collision between British and American identity (439), this very conflict should be explored as distinctive of late nineteenth- century Canadian identity. Because Canadian nationalism was influenced by British and   134   American imperialist discourses, Duncan’s reference to different national affiliations can be seen as representing the very complexities of being Canadian at the turn of the twentieth century. A broader awareness of her writing is necessary not just for the sake of understanding her work in relation to Canadian literature, but also in order to understand representations of empire at the time (Devereux 53). We must look to the body for a deeper understanding of this Canadian perspective on empire at the turn of the twentieth century because of the importance of gendered and racialized physical motifs in establishing and negotiating shifting ideas of empire, nation, and citizenship. What exactly does this contradictory Canadian identity look like and how does it relate to Duncan’s take on gender? There are persistent conflicts in Duncan’s portrayal of the travelling body. Dean reminds us that “her novels and journalism address themselves to the ‘difference’ that her sex and ex-centric nationality allowed her to feel, to questions of what it means to be a colonial, to the colonial point of view” (3-4).93 Dean parallels Duncan’s perspective “from the margin of anglo-american ideology” and her subtly critical gaze toward British and American imperialism (6) with her gender-based alienation from the nation state. This double critique of imperialism from the point of view of a Canadian and of a woman appears on the level of the body in Duncan’s text. On the most basic level, her focus on the personal novelty of her female body in traditionally masculinist heroic roles subverts gender expectations, while also upsetting the imperialist goals and assumptions of travel texts involving conquering the land and its Aboriginal inhabitants. Fiamengo observes that the conservative climate of Canadian newspapers (268) in which female journalists were closely scrutinized contributed to Duncan’s highly performative persona in her work (266). Duncan’s self-reflexive persona in A Social Departure emerges through the body in her tendency to self-consciously re-enact stereotypically masculine and   135   imperialist roles from the perspective of a colonial woman. While the self-deprecating and self- conscious nature of her persona might seem at first to be a mark of amateur writing, inexperience with travel, or insecurity as a female colonial traveller, it is an expression of Duncan’s subtle and slippery social criticism. As Fiamengo argues, her ironic stance offers a kind of guerilla art that allows her to conceal and shift her social criticism at will (274). We must look to Duncan’s inconsistencies and contradictions because the basis of her social criticism is a resistance to orthodoxy in any form (Fiamengo 272). Duncan insists on the multidimensionality of her public self, which allows her to shift between different kinds of subject positions such as female and male or colonial and imperialist (Fiamengo 276). This shifting occurs most vividly on the level of the body in A Social Departure when Duncan represents iconic physical activities in the frontier revival frame from a disarmingly female perspective so as to appropriate and disrupt masculinist and imperialist assumptions about gender and citizenship. 4.3 A Social Departure On several occasions, Duncan describes her national affiliation according to her body to emphasize that such affiliations are more about proving her personal capabilities as a woman, than aligning herself with a particular state. At one point, Duncan and Orthodocia meet a British woman on the train who laments having to immigrate to Canada. Orthodocia and the woman agree wholeheartedly that the latter was unable to disagree with coming to Canada once her husband had “made up his mind” (28) to do so. Duncan responds to what she implies are more conservative British attitudes about gender, but only retrospectively to the reader: “’Dear me said I in my American mind, reflecting on the conduct limitations of the British Matron, Dear me!”   136   Duncan makes an interesting use of the PHYSICAL-OBJECT SELF metaphor in reference to “my American mind” (28). First of all, the idea of making up one’s mind is an expression of this metaphor because it maps Object Control onto Self-Control.94 In the PHYSICAL-OBJECT SELF metaphor, the Self is referred to as an Object (Lakoff and Johnson, Philosophy 170). This suggests that she has critical distance and control over her own identity. It is interesting that Duncan portrays herself here as an American in order to contrast herself with the patriarchal authority of the British woman’s husband who dictates the terms of her mobility. It is even more interesting that she does so by playfully using the same PHYSICAL-OBJECT SELF metaphor, but in a different way. First of all, the SELF AS CONTAINER metaphor maps the interior space of her body onto her mental faculties.95 In the context of discussions of female mobility, this metaphor also reminds the reader that she has a private, critical distance from restrictive stereotypical attitudes toward the female body. Ironically and humourously, her reference to this interiority contrasts vividly with her public admission of it to the reader, and with the speeding train that she is on at the time of having this thought. This contrast reminds the reader of the way that restrictions on women’s physical and social mobility are arbitrary and socially constructed. By expressing disdain for the woman’s husband “in [her] American mind” (28),96 Duncan presents herself and the British man as separate bounded containers and thus different Locations/States. Of course, the term “American” may have been applicable to North Americans at that time. Duncan seems to be self-conscious about the slipperiness of the word through the playful and shifting allusions to British, Canadian, and American identity. In this passage, these Locations/States refer both to their opposing mindsets about women’s mobility, and also to their different geographical and cultural contexts. Duncan’s discussion of her “American” mind as a bounded object thus on the one hand evokes the idea of national types and aligns herself with supposedly more   137   progressive American attitudes to female mobility. On the other hand, the self-reflexive labeling of her own mind as an object shows a playful awareness that this is more of a symbolic philosophical allegiance relating to women’s travel, rather than a fixed identification with nation. Aside from her ambiguous identification with American and British personae, Duncan makes allusion to her Canadian background. She notes, “It is very ‘American’ for young ladies to travel alone, but not such a common thing in my part of the continent” (17). Duncan suggests that American attitudes to female mobility are more relaxed compared to those of Canadians. Despite already contrasting herself with Orthodocia and affiliating more with an American perspective, she still distinguishes herself as Canadian in this passage. Once again though, Duncan deliberately shies away from naming herself as Canadian, instead alluding to Canada as “my part of the continent” (17). This ambiguity paints British, American, and Canadian identity as broad strokes of the same Anglo-Saxon brush. Similar to the image of “my American mind,” this description of Canada as “my part of the continent” evokes the mapping between the Self and a Bounded Location in the LOCATIONAL SELF metaphor. In this case, the physically bounded region of Canada maps onto a more abstract idea of nationhood with which she affiliates herself. According to the Bodily/Self Control and the GENERIC IS SPECIFIC metaphors, she exerts authority in affiliating herself with the country and extends this to her mostly female readership. Once again, Duncan plays with the idea of national identity as a physically bounded, and thus potentially restricted/protected, sense of self that is lacking in Movement/Change. However, the use of the word “part” evokes the OBJECTIVE STANDPOINT metaphor by implying a sense of perspective on Canada’s place in the continent as a whole. By placing the nation in a broader continental setting, Duncan evokes the concept of nationalism, while doing so in a way that is disconnected from a specific nation. This ambiguity nods to a kind of broad Anglo-Saxon cultural   138   identity that in this case is more closely aligned with North American discourse of eastern travellers on the western frontier. Her inclusion of Canada in this continental viewpoint echoes American discourse of incorporating Canada, particularly western Canada, into the United States. Duncan further represents her American persona as a symbolic extreme that contrasts with British or old world conservatism about women’s mobility. She describes Orthodocia’s relatives trying to come to terms with her trip with “‘that American young lady,’ which was me” (10). Duncan’s use of a demonstrative adjective (“that”) to refer to herself in the third person implies the OBJECTIVE STANDPOINT metaphor, whereby one gains perspective by getting outside of oneself.97 This suggests different things about her American identity. First of all, being American is a way of metaphorically getting outside of herself in a way that tests her personal and cultural boundaries. This idea of looking outside of herself as an American also suggests that her persona as a traveller is a symbolic American one that is separate from (but allows perspective on) her Canadian identity. Duncan’s subtle indication that her American persona is more symbolic than real also reminds the reader that her traveller role is metonymic for a cross-border female audience moreso than for a particularly Canadian, British, or American one. Duncan proceeds to upbraid Orthodocia’s family and general public opinion in Britain for being more accepting of marriage than of female independence in her address to the reader: “Naturally you will think of matrimony first, which casualty would have enabled Orthodocia to go to the planet Mars alone, I believe with the full approval of all her friends and acquaintances” (10). By describing marriage as a journey that parallels their own trip, Duncan envisions travelling the world and settling into the domestic sphere through marriage as representing diverging types of self-definition. Her description of marriage as an absurdly extreme journey ironically suggests that it is more dangerous to Orthodocia’s sense of self than an actual journey around the world with a trusted female   139   companion.98 The deliberate use of this metaphor to depict women’s experiences of marriage in a negative light implies that restrictions on women’s physical/social mobility are actually more harmful than the physical mobility that is seen as going against acceptable norms of female identity. She also draws attention to the importance of actual physical journeys as a kind of leveling ground with which to influence and change the metaphors by which women live their lives in or beyond the domestic sphere. Duncan’s discussion of her ride on the cowcatcher describes her journey as a kind of ironic performance of American identity. She notes, “I dwelt with fascination upon certain words by an American author—‘And the bear was coming on,’ and I thought of the fool-hardiness of travelling on a cow-catcher without a gun” (61). This allusion seems to refer to American author Charles Dudley Warner’s 1878 article, “The Adirondacks Verified” in Atlantic Monthly about killing a bear. As an American author who travelled to Western Canada on the C.P.R. and wrote for an eastern American audience, Warner is a prime example of male frontier revival authors. Duncan’s allusion to him carefully situates herself in relation to eastern American perceptions of western Canada. By describing herself as “dwel[ling]” “on” Warner’s words, Duncan evokes the LOCATIONAL SELF metaphor. She compares her Self to the metaphorical Location of Warner’s “words,” which suggests a cultural affiliation with the northeastern American publishing industry. The concept of living in something as abstract as language, especially that of a cross-border travel writer’s language indicates that this very cultural affiliation is more symbolic than nationalistic. The specific metaphor of “dwelling” has particularly domestic connotations that subtly present a more feminine private sphere as representing and transcending national affiliation. Because of metaphors such as Good is Up, the image of living on top of Warner’s words suggests that she is capable of the kind of cultural test of authority that is faced by her male peers in frontier revival   140   literature. However, the fact that she both temporarily resides “on” his work and is physically separate from it implies that she transcends this test and has critical distance from it. The image of the bear “coming on” also evokes the LES mapping of a physical Obstacle onto a Difficulty that occurs in the struggle in the wilderness of frontier revival literature. On the one hand, she invokes a sense of credibility by suggesting that she is capable of facing this obstacle and proving her cultural authority. On the other hand, her tongue in cheek, cavalier approach to riding the cowcatcher without a gun suggests that she is not actually interested in using this symbolic obstacle as a means of emphasizing national divisions or imposing cultural control on the landscape. Instead, Duncan’s humourous allusion to a male American frontier revival author calls on the symbolism of Anglo-Saxon cultural dominance to emphasize her own personal achievements that she metonymically extends to her female readership. Duncan’s discussion of her home in this passage further complicates her American persona in A Social Departure. After alluding to Warner, she states, “I wondered what would be said in our respective home circles if the bear really came on” (61). Her discussion of home circles again evokes the SELF AS CONTAINER metaphor, this time to describe their places of origin. This metaphor of containment suggests separate Bounded Locations/States, so that in this case the bounded geographical Location maps onto the separate abstract States of national identity. However, Duncan’s ambiguous reference to their “respective home circles” in the plural, and with no specific allusion to their cultural backgrounds, suggests that the boundaries of these Bounded Locations/States may overlap or shift. This ambiguity draws attention to Duncan’s own shifting and more symbolic affiliation with a pan-Anglo-Saxonism, rather than a specific nationalist discourse. As well, her interest in how people in their “home circles” would react to the bear again reminds us that this Obstacle/Difficulty normally serves as a means of proving one’s eastern   141   cultural authority over the Canadian frontier. Her interest in such a hypothetical reaction subtly reminds the reader that she is invested in proving herself in this cultural framework. Duncan’s portrayal of herself as lacking an actual gun facetiously suggests that she is braver than her male peers, while also indicating a sense of ironic removal from the imperialist connotations of the Obstacles/Difficulties in frontier revival literature. Duncan’s speculative interest in how people will respond to her actions back in their “home circles” further emphasizes that she is expanding the boundaries of the Bounded Location/State not only through facing the stereotypical Obstacles/Difficulties of the struggle in the wilderness, but also with different Destinations/Goals. Duncan repeatedly emphasizes that unlike her male predecessors, who continuously reiterate a sense of national dominance over western Canada, the point of her travels is to achieve personal mobility, and thereby agency, that she then extends to her female readership. She first emphasizes this in the description of Orthodocia’s “battles” (18) to go on their trip. The idea of fighting battles touches on the struggle in the wilderness and the test of Bodily/Self control in the frontier revival frame. It also connotes more culturally specific, and often racist motifs of violent encounters with Aboriginal people in frontier revival literature.99 Fear of such encounters abounds in these texts, often contrasting with authors’ actual meetings with Aboriginal people. For instance, the explicit racist animosity that Murray projects onto non-white people in Daylight Land echoes earlier American depictions of frontier battles and represents a major Obstacle/Difficulty through which to assert his sense of Anglo-Saxon superiority. With characteristic wit, Duncan deliberately suggests that for women, the real Obstacle/Difficulty is to get out of the door to begin with. While she implies that this struggle is harder for women in England, it is a battle that she herself takes part in. Duncan assures the reader that in overcoming their naysayers, “we exercised forbearance, valour, and magnificent perseverance, and we   142   prevailed” (19). Here Duncan uses stock phrases to describe the kind of self-controlled movement past Obstacles/Difficulties toward a Destination/Goal that represents the assertion of cultural authority in frontier revival literature. Once again, she ironically applies this idea of cultural progress to the personal struggle for women to access the individual agency of travel in frontier revival literature at all, let alone the perks of national affiliation or cultural superiority that come along with it. Through the use of these physical descriptions she deliberately extends this struggle for Bodily/Self Control onto a collective female struggle that both triggers and transcends imperialist discourses of westward expansion. Duncan also uses climactic moments during their journey through western Canada to foreground their struggle for personal agency. She humourously describes riding the cowcatcher of the C.P.R. train as a kind of epic inner battle: [T]o be a faithful historian I must say that it was an uncomfortable moment. We fancied we felt the angry palpitations of the monster we sat on, and we couldn’t help wondering whether he might not resent the liberty. It was very like a personal experiment with the horns of a dragon, and Orthodocia and I found distinct qualms in each other’s faces. But there was no time for repentance; our monster gave a terrible indignant snort, and slowly, then quickly, then with furious speed, sent us forth into space (59). First of all, Duncan gently mocks the feigned objectivity of journalism and travel writing in her discussion of personal physical discomfort from the point of view of a “faithful historian” (59). She also hints at this contrast between objective masculinist domains of knowledge and their own more subjective experience in her discussion of this event as a “personal experiment.” The image of the two women sitting on a beast again implies a conflicted relationship to the cultural authority that she is trying to invoke. Their position on top of this beast suggests an act of Bodily/Self Control through the Control is Up metaphor, and also because of their control over the   143   Force/Cause of their Movement/Change according to the LES metaphor. Therefore, Duncan portrays them as proving themselves and performing a cultural rite of passage. But they also personify the train itself as a male who, like their naysayers, might “resent the liberty.” So by conquering it, they are defying the very masculine monopoly on physical mobility and the ideas of cultural progress that such mobility represents. Again this is tied to nation—the train physically and symbolically unites the provinces of Canada. However, it is also alien to them (it is a beast— or a dragon). This sense of alienation emphasizes that the train itself, despite uniting Canada, represents a broader, more symbolic imperialist project and power from which the women are excluded. It also emphasizes that they are affiliating themselves more with the idea of citizenship through the image of the train (more so than with a particular nation) in order to include women in a public dialogue about what constitutes nationhood, empire, and citizenship. Also, according to the LES metaphor, she represents the train as a Large, Moving Object that maps onto an External Event whose Force/Cause acts upon them. Their personal distance from the very Force/Cause of their journey reminds the reader again of their critical distance from the physical and symbolic vehicle of empire on which they ride. Rather than asserting, they are departing from social convention. But this very departure occurs in the recognizable, even clichéd image of the C.P.R. as a symbol of continental expansion in frontier revival literature, and thereby indicates a desire to redefine or expand ideas of nation and citizenship. Duncan also uses self-deprecating humour to play down events that would normally be given importance in the texts of her male peers. Describing the Rockies in hyperbolic terms is a stock convention in frontier revival literature. However, Duncan remarks that “Orthodocia and I had our first glimpse of the Rockies from the window of the ‘ladies toilet-room’ between the splashes of the very imperfect ablutions one makes in such a place” (56). As part of the LS   144   metaphor, the Bounded Location of the women’s washroom maps onto her state of mind. Once again, she evokes the tension between the SELF AS CONTAINER and the OBJECTIVE STANDPOINT metaphor in her description of trying to test the bounds of her own Sight/Knowledge and expand her own Movement/Change. She subtly extends this personal test of Bodily/Self Control to an implied female readership through the reference to Orthodocia and their shared confinement in the female washroom. This confined space evokes the domestic sphere. Not only are they in a room designated for women, but the room is specifically geared towards the private sphere in a nod to Victorian gendered discourses of middle class femininity that prioritized modesty and cleanliness. Far from dwelling on a sense of victimhood, Duncan’s vision of the Rockies “between the splashes” of her own toilette offers a teasing, irreverent perspective on the literary conventions of her male peers. By essentially fitting the mammoth scenery “between” the movements of her own bodily cleansing rituals, Duncan situates the landscape within her female Location/State. It could be argued that Duncan is presenting herself in a humourously mock-heroic role so as to seem less threatening to readers both male and female alike. It is difficult to know the extent to which Duncan meant for passages such as these to convey a sense of sarcasm or critique of dominant discourse. However, her skill at combining sharp, witty, political commentary in this passage, with nods to more socially conventional elements of female behaviour, suggests her awareness of a sense of conflict. The subversive tension in this image is undeniably present as part of her self-deprecating persona and it emerges in the description of her body in relation to her physical environment. Not only does she test the boundaries of her female experience, but she also invites the landscape in, so to speak, to her own private female space. She thus indicates an alternative way of relating to the landscape that is more openly subjective and identified with her female perspective. Trying to get out of her space indicates that she wants   145   more agency, but inviting the landscape in suggests that she does not want to simply assume the same kind of imperialist Sight/Knowledge of her surroundings as her male peers. Another way that Duncan diverges from her male peers is through her willing loss of Bodily/Self-Control—a loss that she does not seem interested in rectifying or overcoming. One of the best examples of this divergence occurs near the beginning of the book when she describes their expectations for their journey: “we were both quite aware, however, when we made our last farewells out of the car window in the noisy lamp-lit darkness of Montreal station, the September night that saw us off, that the C.P.R. would take us over the prairies and across the Rockies, and finally to a point along the shore of the Pacific Ocean, somewhere in British Columbia, we believed, where in the course of time we should find a ship. It was our intention to commit ourselves to the ship, but there speculation ceased and purpose vanished away, for who hath fore- knowledge of the Pacific, or can prophecy beyond the rim of it?” (19-20). Duncan’s use of phrases such as “quite aware,” “we believed,” and “our intention” attributes some agency to the two women. However, this entire passage represents a willful embrace of a loss of control through images of the train, which “take[s]” them across the country. Their destination of “a point along the shore” maps a Bounded Location of a specific spot at the edge of the continent onto a State of cultural progress that is brought about by testing the boundaries of Canadian identity. However at the same time, the lack of specificity in this passage emphasizes a willing loss of control over their geographical location. What matters is the symbolic act of expanding the frontier and testing the limits of their own bodies. Her statement that “there speculation ceased and purpose vanished away, for who hath fore-knowledge of the Pacific, or can prophecy beyond the rim of it?” (19-20) indicates a Destination/Goal of gaining perspective on themselves and on their imperial identity by moving out of a Bounded Location/State. Rather than indicating a   146   restoration of control, Duncan suggests that this open-ended movement toward self perspective is in itself the Destination/Goal of their journey. Duncan’s departure from Canada and the very sense of the unknown that lies beyond the geographical borders are more important than reasserting a fixed affiliation with national boundaries. She appropriates the familiar motif of expanding borders in the pursuit of cultural progress to promote her own more alternative and proto-feminist interest in resisting, rather than reaffirming, cultural affiliation. This willing loss of control culminates in a disinterest in actually going home by completing the conventional circular journey of the frontier revival frame. Duncan states, “we were tarrying in corona—which you will not find upon the map” (36). Her recurring desire to be delayed, to become lost, to get off the map rather than to inscribe their names on it, represents a deliberate disinterest in asserting the male explorer’s imperialist gaze on his surroundings, and even less of an interest in asserting cultural authority by going home. Maps are suspect in this passage. They must either get off them, or remap them, which produces a constant tension in the text between trying to prove oneself through conventional motifs of physical mobility, and trying to change the meaning of these motifs. Her description of the landscape in this town reflects an openly subjective perspective on their surroundings: “before that there seems always an unrest about it, a vague undulation of line along the sky, the contour of the country never broken, but always gently changing with the point of view, like the bounds of truth as we know them” (36). This image of a shifting horizon indicates an increase in perspective on herself and the country through a process of moving outside of a contained Location/State and increasing Sight/Knowledge and Movement/Change. The idea of a horizon that shifts as they move with it (and is thus never really attainable) hints at an awareness that the delineations between Locations/States are changeable and subjective. Her comparison between the shifting horizon and “truth” emphasizes a more   147   subjective idea of self, on an individual and a collective level. Unlike many of her male peers, she recognizes that her own cultural perspective is not fixed. Her recurring sense of novelty at performing stereotypically masculine physical activities also makes this subjectivity more apparent. Duncan’s inability to assume an uncomplicated physical relationship to her role as traveller constantly informs her more subjective understanding of self and cultural progress that she represents throughout her travels. Duncan uses the motif of expanding a frontier space, while imbuing this imperialist symbolism with an alternative, more subjective female perspective. The shifting of the horizon represents cultural progress, but for Duncan this progress conveys a necessary, and distinctly gendered social departure, rather than a reinstatement of the status quo. The progress of Duncan’s last Canadian frontier is one that consists of a more flexible relationship toward citizenship and nationhood. 4.4 Taylor While virtually no literary criticism has been written on Elizabeth Taylor, what little information that exists sheds some light on her American take on the cross-cultural frontier feminist adventure perspective that Duncan pioneered. There is biographical material on her in the Minnesota Historical Society archives, but one of the few published references to her in recent scholarship occurs in Barbara Kelcey’s study of European women travelling in northern Canada in Alone in Silence.100 Kelcey’s study provides biographical information that helps to situate Taylor’s work in relation to eastern American perspectives on western Canada. Taylor was the daughter of James Taylor, the US consul to Winnipeg who was a known supporter of American expansionist ideas (Kelcey 58). She would, therefore, have been aware of eastern American discourses about   148   expansion into western Canada at the time. She also appears to have been connected to eastern American perspectives on Canada through her friendship with Ernest Seton-Thompson. Kelcey points out that Taylor met Seton-Thompson in art school in Paris, where he was planning an arctic voyage and encouraged her to travel to northern Canada (Kelcey 58). As Mount shows in When Canadian Literature Moved to New York, Seton-Thompson was a nature writer, one of the founders of the boy scouts, and an instrumental figure amongst Canadians who adopted and participated in the American fixation with the Canadian wilderness at the turn of the twentieth century (100-108). Taylor’s contact with Seton-Thompson, along with the fact that she published accounts of her trip in the prominent eastern wilderness magazines Travel and Outing, suggest her close proximity to the cross-border literary climate of frontier revival literature. Taylor’s connections to American political and literary discourses about the Canadian wilderness, and more importantly western Canada, confirm her deliberate engagement with such discourses in her text. As well, the fact that she had to overcome the concerns of both her father and Hudson Bay Company officials in order to embark on her journey (Kelcey 60) suggests that Taylor was well aware of how gender norms were embedded in imperialist perceptions of western Canada, and also that she knowingly subverted such assumptions in her text. Similar to Duncan, Taylor makes several interesting references to a kind of symbolic American persona throughout her text. She begins with a quote from a poem called “The Two Streams,” which appears to be about western Canada, and which was written by famous Boston judge and writer, Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr. (Holmes 44). Her discussion of this poem as the impetus for her journey aligns her with eastern American literary perceptions of western Canada. As well, Taylor mentions that the steamer leaves the Rapids of the Drowned for the Mackenzie Delta on the fourth of July (“Arctic Circle” 126).101 After the Holmes quotation, Taylor proceeds   149   to frame her journey in relation to what she terms “the popular idea of the far north” (“Northward” 45), again placing her writing in the context of popular American expansionist ideas about western Canada. The minimal number of direct allusions to Taylor’s American heritage suggests that like Duncan, Taylor’s American persona is not as literal as it might seem. Instead she refers to American nationalist discourse in a way that evokes a symbolic imperialist Anglo-Saxon persona with which to prove her capabilities as a woman. For example, she complicates her national affiliation in the text by describing her journey as ultimately starting in Paris and ending in Edmonton. By doing this, she portrays herself as a cosmopolitan traveller who transcends nationalism in her text. Also, by establishing Paris as her point of departure, Taylor subtly subverts the Anglo-American discourse of her readers. However, like Duncan, Taylor exaggerates American myths of westward expansion by extending her trip beyond the boundaries of North America. As Devereux remarks about Duncan (48), Taylor’s American persona lies in an understanding that imperialism is performed through the body itself. She taps into the cultural capital (See note 110) of the westward moving Anglo-Saxon travelling body at the turn of the twentieth century. Taylor presents this persona as more about a symbolic contrast between the rural and the urban in her discussion of the wilderness as a “frontier” (“Northward” 48) that contrasts with the “city” (“Northward” 48). Both of these passages are written with a self- reflexive concern for how the wilderness surroundings would be perceived by primarily eastern, urban readers. Like Duncan, Taylor cultivates an American persona in her text that is less about affiliating with American nationalism than it is about adopting the cultural credibility and symbolic imperialist authority of a white, Anglo-Saxon traveller who pushes the edges of the western Canadian frontier.   150   Before engaging in an analysis of “A Woman in the Mackenzie Delta,” I turn to a few of its distinctive features in comparison with Duncan’s A Social Departure. Taylor’s account of her trip, which took place in 1892 (LaFramboise 136), was published as a series of four articles from 1894-95 in Outing. Compared to Duncan, who speaks with the detached and confident ironic tone of an established journalist, Taylor adopts a more personal voice throughout her text. She begins by describing her lifelong “childish resolution” (“Northward” 44) to travel to the Arctic (“Northward” 44) and focusses on her own personal observations rather than deflecting her point of view through a fictionalized and naïve travelling companion as in the case of Duncan. The effect of this personal narration is to give the impression of a text that is more explicitly autobiographical in nature compared to the highly fictionalized A Social Departure.102 Taylor is not as ascerbic and flamboyant as Duncan who, as Fiamengo points out, hides behind an ironic, shifting tone (274). Because of the more personal and autobiographical nature of Taylor’s text, which involves extensive description of her physical movement, we can see even more explicitly how symbolic discourses emerge through the individual travelling body in her text and in the daily lives and imaginations of her female readers. Like Duncan, Taylor is fascinated by her own physical mobility and is more interested in the goal of attaining such novel physical freedom than in asserting cultural authority through opposition to Aboriginal people or through a return home. Taylor focusses in particular on the time that she spends watching and learning how to move in the wilderness and how to overcome personal restrictions and fears about her mobility. She also makes use of pronouns and verbs to describe this focus on personal mobility. For instance, she starts by describing her journey as “it” (“Northward” 45) and often presents herself as physically adjacent to, and thus symbolically ambivalent towards, typical Destinations/Goals in the wilderness. She represents her alienation and critical distance from imperialist discourses of   151   westward expansion. However, Taylor gradually develops more physical and psychological agency throughout the journey. Her focus on personal physical freedom envisions an alternative idea of cultural progress that encompasses more choice and independence for women. 4.5 “A Woman in the Mackenzie Delta” So from the heights of Will Life's parting stream descends, And, as a moment turns its slender rill, Each widening torrent bends,— From the same cradle's side, From the same mother's knee,— One to long darkness and the frozen tide, One to the Peaceful Sea! -Oliver Wendell Holmes, “The Two Streams,” Complete Poetical Works, 112. Taylor’s opening references to Oliver Wendell Holmes’ poem, “The Two Streams” makes use of conceptual metaphor to represent her physical journey as an individual and cultural rite of passage. She begins by quoting the last two lines of the poem and then observes, “I had wished to visit the Far North ever since the time when, as a little girl of ten years old, I had read Dr. Holmes’ beautiful poem, “The Two Streams,” and had resolved that in the years to come I would follow the great river to the ‘frozen tide’” (“Northward” 44).103 Taylor’s discussion of “the years to come” (“Northward” 44) as a river that she follows invokes the LES and LS metaphors by mapping the   152   bounded physical path of the Athabaska river onto her lifetime. Her image of “follow[ing] the ‘frozen tide’” represents her physical journey toward the Destination of the Mackenzie Delta as the pursuit of a major life Goal. Once again this process of testing the boundaries of the contained spaces of the river source, the Canadian border, the rivers themselves, and the Arctic circle, conveys an idea of Movement/Change out of a fixed Location/State. It also suggests a Movement/Change toward a state of increased perspective that she explicitly links to male models of physical mobility set in the western Canada of frontier revival literature. Holmes sets “The Two Streams” in western Canada and describes the continental divide, from which two different rivers head north and south: “From the same cradle's side,/From the same mother's knee,—/ One to long darkness and the frozen tide,/One to the Peaceful Sea!” (100). It is interesting that Holmes describes Canada as a contained female space from which these two rivers run. His American idea of continental unity is not only enacted in the setting of a mythic western Canadian last frontier, but is also clearly gendered. The cradle of the Rockies maps a Bounded Location onto a protective and limiting State that he describes as female, which evokes the restriction of women to the domestic sphere. In contrast, the two opposing streams emanating from this female source indicate a more masculine model of testing the boundaries and, therefore, defining and redefining ideas of manifest destiny on both sides of the border. This passage from Holmes’ poem epitomizes the distinctly masculine model of cultural self-definition in frontier revival literature that Duncan and Taylor emulate for their own purposes. The description of the Athabaska river as leading to “darkness and the frozen tide” emphasizes the idea of western Canada as a significant northern boundary above the United States that must be crossed in order to gain perspective on American identity. Taylor’s admission that her dream to follow this northern path is a “childish resolution . . . not to be thought of for a woman unused to the rigor of an Arctic   153   winter” (“Northward” 44) reminds the reader that by testing the limits of her physical strength, as well as the various boundaries of her journey, she takes on a more masculine role in stimulating debate around citizenship and identity. The use of this quote at the beginning of her text reminds the reader of her desire to extend the symbolic significance of this role to women and to include them in such debates. As does Duncan, Taylor ironically portrays resistance to her own journey as the main Obstacle/Difficulty that she has to face. Late nineteenth-century travel writers such as Taylor often had to explain and justify their choice of dress in order to appease readers’ conservative attitudes toward women’s travel.104 Taylor describes her struggle to bring appropriate travel supplies and clothing as a process of “wrestl[ing]” (“Northward” 48) with such decisions, a process that includes arguing with a dressmaker in Paris who tries to convince her to wear the latest women’s fashions. Her use of this word draws on the Obstacles/Difficulties that occur in stereotypically masculine physical activity in frontier revival literature to describe her own struggle to defy gender expectations on her trip. This comparison ironically suggests that her defiance of gender norms is in itself a heroic process of testing cultural boundaries similar to the male struggle in the wilderness in frontier revival texts. Taylor describes her conversation with one particularly fear mongering naysayer: “He asked me what enemies I expected to encounter, and was very skeptical when I mentioned the mosquito as being the most formidable. He spoke of the savage tribes which I should meet, and drew a touching picture of my being murdered in my sleep” (“Northward” 45-46). Again, she refers to the male model of establishing Bodily/Self- Control in the wilderness through conquering foreign enemies. In particular, the phrases “expected to encounter” and “I should meet” indicate an established male model of Movement/Change and the overcoming of Obstacles/Difficulties. Furthermore the image of his   154   warning as occurring “in” a painting and occurring while she is “in” her sleep indicates that this male model of cultural progress protects and restricts women from active participation in testing and redefining cultural boundaries. Taylor’s wry suggestion that the mosquito is her biggest obstacle reminds readers of her skepticism toward the gendered dichotomies of frontier revival literature. Furthermore, she states that “the real risks, however, lay in another direction. Was it prudent to go two thousand miles from the nearest settlement?” (“Northward” 46). On the one hand, this statement both sensationalizes her vulnerability as a female traveller and acquiesces to readers’ gender expectations. On the other hand, her reference to “the real risks” reminds the reader of the value in pushing the boundaries of these very expectations. Her suggestion that such risks “lie in another direction” ironically emphasizes that such defiance of gender norms pushes the very boundaries of frontier revival literature itself, thereby further testing the limits of cultural progress. Taylor repeatedly compares herself to the supplies that are transported to H.B.C. posts along the river so as to convey the conflict between herself and the ideas of cultural progress that she enacts. At one landing point, she says, “Our camp effects were soon piled up on a car, I was perched on top of the load, and with two Indians pushing behind I was trundled in fine style to the end of the track to begin camp-life there” (“Northward” 50). The verbs “perched” and “trundled” describe her as a kind of parcel that the male guides manoeuvre on the trip. Both verbs suggest that she is not in control of the Force/Cause of her Movement/ Change. They also portray such Force/Cause as emanating from an External Event/Large Moving Object, reminding us that she does not necessarily have agency on her journey.105 Her containment in the overall moving object of the boat and in the implied metaphor of packaged supplies evokes stereotypical portrayals of women on the frontier as confined to the domestic sphere. Her reference to the Aboriginal men   155   “pushing behind” also suggests their ambivalence to the journey in that they are part of the Force/Cause of the journey, while relegated to the back of the group, as opposed to leading the way. The image of being taken “to the end of the track to begin camp-life there” (“Northward” 50) portrays her ambivalent relationship to the Force/Cause of her journey. She achieves a Destination/Goal that pushes the edges of a frontier space, but by beginning camp life there she takes on a domestic role and seems to represent a stereotypically feminine, domestic image of imperialist westward expansion. However, this idea of being “taken” to this Destination/Goal implies ambivalence to both traditional concepts of domestic femininity, as well as to the wider imperialist connotations of setting up camp in a remote frontier location. Taylor’s ambivalence associates her female perspective in the wilderness with an ongoing negotiation with, rather than assertion of, imperialist ideas of progress. In this light, her new “camp life” suggests a new cultural beginning based on a potential revision of gender roles.106 Taylor often describes her increasing physical and psychological independence on her trip as a process of diverting from the overall path of the boat and her fellow travellers. When arriving at the Mackenzie Delta, she claims, “then the goods must be landed and the furs put on board. As for myself, I hardly knew where to turn first, there was so much to do.” . . . “I ventured out into the muskeg” (“Eskimos” 232). In this passage, Taylor uses verbs such as “landed” and “put” in reference to the supplies, thus evoking previous uses of similar words to describe herself as cargo. However, in this case she explicitly differentiates herself from the supplies. In particular, her statement that “I hardly knew where to turn first” (“Eskimos” 232) clearly maps her physical Force and Movement onto an increased agency over the Cause and Change of her own self- definition. As well, the verb “turn” implies controlled Movement/Change. The common idiom of “where to turn” contrasts significantly with the verbs that Taylor uses to describe her movement   156   near the beginning of her text. This development in verbs to describe her movement emphasizes her increased personal mobility throughout the text, and shows how deeply entrenched the connection between social and physical mobility is in frontier revival literature. The sense of uncertainty in this idiom is also important for different reasons. It suggests a move from one Location/State to another that symbolizes the masculinist process of testing cultural boundaries in the frontier revival frame. Furthermore, the question of “where to turn” anticipates Grace Gallatin’s exclamation a few years later in A Woman Tenderfoot of “oh for a precedent” (110). This physical disorientation and sense of novelty hints that she is deliberately adopting a masculine model of extreme physical mobility that frontier revival writers saw as the epitome of cultural progress at the time. Taylor uses a similar idiom in her description of trying to find the courage and strength to pursue her personal interest in the local wildlife. She describes the freedom to conduct her own research once other people take over the stereotypically female domestic chores with which she had been preoccupied, noting, “I turned my attention more to plants and butterflies” (“Arctic Circle” 124). In the phrase “turned my attention,” she explicitly maps her own physical Force and Movement onto abstract concepts of Cause and Change. Taylor uses the PHYSICAL OBJECT SELF and SELF AS CONTAINER metaphors to describe her State of attention (Self) as a Bounded Location or Object that she can hold and turn. She also employs the LOCATIONAL SELF metaphor by referring to a particular State of attention as the Bounded Location of an object, perhaps her own body, over which she has control. She represents gaining control over her own State of concentration and focus in this image of moving the Bounded Location of her body. She explicitly uses the verb “turn” to demonstrate increased personal agency and self-definition. She also evokes the OBJECTIVE STANDPOINT metaphor by suggesting that her State of   157   attention is the Bounded Location of a physical object that is separate from herself, and which she looks at from the outside. The phrase “turning my attention” indicates a change in direction, which thereby suggests a change in her desired Destination/Goal, and also implies the ability to move in between different Locations/States with control over Movement/Change and Sight/Knowledge. Taylor is careful to present her attention as focussed on learning about the wildlife, and she emphasizes at several points throughout the book that her own goals of studying the surrounding environment differ from the more practical necessities of moving supplies along the river. It is important that she connects her increased agency and self-knowledge and bodily control with such alternative personal goals of expanding her own knowledge, as opposed to imposing authority on the place itself.107 Taylor alludes to another common idiom to express alienation from the traditional goals of arctic exploration literature. Voicing her regret at not being able to stay at the Mackenzie Delta, she states, “[b]ut regrets were useless. That boat waited for no woman, the ‘brigade’ of the Athabaska would be waiting for us before long, and one could not expect the whole northern service of the Hudson Bay Company to be disarranged because one person wanted to catch butterflies, and botanize, and sketch, at the Delta” (“Eskimos” 235). In this passage, Taylor refers to the idiomatic expression “time waits for no man,” in which time and the inevitability of change are understood as a fellow traveller with whom one must try to keep up. True to the LES and LS metaphors, this idiom maps Movement through space onto abstract ideas about Changes of the self. The idea that Movement is inevitable and will occur whether or not we try to control it maps onto the idea that Change is inevitable whether or not we try to control it. The implication of this idiom then is that because Movement/Change is inevitable, one must assert Bodily/Self Control or else the Force/Cause of this Movement/Change will act upon us. Taylor’s phrase “That boat   158   waited for no woman” makes the idiom literal by substituting “boat” for “time” and by literally suggesting that she must keep up with it. Also by substituting “no man” with “no woman” she changes the meaning as well. First of all, she self-reflexively draws her readers’ attention to the metaphorical nature of the idiom (and to the fact that we are used to making this implicit connection between Movement/Change). Secondly, she humourously suggests that this idiom, although appearing to be universal, stems from the male body and is used to understand male life experience. It does not have the same taken-for-granted metaphorical resonance for female travellers or readers because women are not usually on the proverbial boat at all. Taylor’s more literal concern with catching the boat emphasizes that basic metaphors of self-definition do not fairly apply to women because they reflect masculine concepts of physical mobility to which women are still trying to gain access. Catching the boat for Taylor signifies the struggle to access the basic physical mobility by which cultural progress is defined. Taylor also repeatedly expresses alienation from the typical Destinations/Goals of exploration when she reaches one of her main destinations, the Arctic circle. She describes feeling disenchanted when discovering that it does not resemble her childhood expectations of a large “shining circle” (“Arctic Circle” 132): “We crossed the Arctic circle nine miles north of Good Hope, at Rabbit Skin River. By no amount of grown up reasoning had I been able to free my mind of the childish idea of the circle” (“Arctic Circle” 132). Taylor’s description of her childhood dream of reaching the Delta refers back to the allusion to Holmes’ poem at the beginning of her text, along with her initial discussion of her childhood dream of travelling northward. The physical journey represents her individual self-definition, as well the collective pursuit of cultural progress. This image of moving past a contained space in an extreme northern setting evokes the testing of boundaries in frontier revival literature. She refers back to her   159   original claim that her dream of travelling northward is “childish” because of her gender. Taylor’s suggestion here that she must outgrow her childish misconceptions of the Arctic thus also indicates that she is breaking past gender barriers. Furthermore, she suggests that the barrier she is supposedly breaking does not exist in the first place. She describes herself as proving her Bodily/Self Control through the physical expansion out of contained spaces in frontier revival literature. Her suggestion that she crosses an invisible boundary emphasizes that conceptual metaphors occur amidst socially constructed concepts. Her crossing of this boundary as a woman indicates an awareness of the arbitrariness of the gendered nature of this frame. In this case, the Destination/Goal of her trip becomes not only the original idea of the Arctic circle that represents masculinist ideals of cultural progress, but also an escape from the way that these ideals have been mythologized as exclusively male. Her escape from the gendered nature of the frame in this passage conveys an empathic, more realistic awareness of the surrounding landscape itself, outside of the mythical lens of the frontier revival. Taylor’s eagerness to expand her personal knowledge extends to a willing loss of control when encountering Aboriginal people. Despite being glad to be helped ashore at one point, she remarks that “I fancy I looked somewhat perturbed, however, for the Indian who helped me out glanced at my face and laughed” (“Northward” 54). Imagining her own appearance through the eyes of the Aboriginal person, Taylor essentially acts out a combination of the Knowing is Seeing and OBJECTIVE STANDPOINT metaphors. By pretending to see herself through the eyes of the woman, she maps looking at herself from the outside to an increase in objectivity. Compared to male writers, such as W.H.H. Murray, who constantly speak of Aboriginal people as objects towards whom they direct an imperial gaze, Taylor embraces a loss of cultural authority by attempting to see herself through the eyes of Aboriginal people. This image of seeing herself from   160   another’s perspective indicates a loss of control, especially in her awareness that she is an object of humour. This increase of perspective and self-knowledge echoes the struggle in the wilderness in frontier revival literature and suggests that this Obstacle/Difficulty is a heroic test that she overcomes similar to her male peers. Rather than trying to re-impose her cultural authority, however, Taylor hints at a different paradigm of exploration and cultural progress that is more inclusive both of her own gender as well as that of Aboriginal people. She emphasizes a sense of gender solidarity across geographical borders in another image of an Aboriginal woman laughing at her: “Evidently I impressed her as presenting an utterly absurd appearance, for, after looking me all over, she would shut her eyes, shake her head from side to side and go off into a fit of laughter” (“Eskimos” 230). This image of the woman “looking [her] all over” goes even further in emphasizing the increase in perspective and self-knowledge that appears in the previous passage. Not only does the woman find her to be ridiculous, but she also seems unable or unwilling to comprehend Taylor at all. By describing the woman as closing her eyes, Taylor draws attention to the woman’s body as a separate Bounded Location/State that is unknowable and impenetrable. And despite trying to gain perspective on herself through the woman’s eyes, this very perspective leads to a sense of how foreign she must seem to the Aboriginal people she encounters. The description of the woman as “go [ing] off” into laughter also indicates that the woman is outside of her personal field of knowledge and cannot be quickly understood or conquered by Taylor herself. However the woman’s sense of enclosure (Bounded Location) in shutting her eyes and shutting herself off from Taylor also indicates their shared State of alienation in this passage. This recurring concept of mutual alienation is far more common in frontier revival texts by women than by men and also captures a sense of shared otherness across the cultural divides of their ethnic backgrounds. Taylor’s alienation when trying to gain perspective on herself in these interactions   161   defines the pursuit of cultural progress as a matter of finding self-knowledge, increasing personal freedom, and empathizing with Aboriginal people who are normally objectified in frontier revival texts. Another way that Taylor embraces loss is in her disinterest in returning home. When describing her reluctance to leave one of the camps, she states, “that small island might have been in the land of the lotus eaters” (“Northward” 51). Taylor’s allusion to the Odyssey here is paradoxical in a way that is typical of female frontier revival authors. On the one hand, the idea of a lotus land symbolizes a kind of delay in pursuing an ultimate goal. More specifically, this delay is characterized by a state of pleasure and escape that has the capacity to make one forget one’s goal.108 Taylor expresses delight at her increased personal freedom on her journey, and she seems to suggest that this freedom is in opposition to the social conventions that she is expected to assert and conform to as either a woman or as a traveller. On the other hand, the very fact that she articulates this longing to escape her own social background through an allusion to Homer ironically situates this very sense of alienation in the context of masculine heroism, and thereby legitimizes it as part of an overall pursuit of cultural progress. This allusion to Homer’s lotus land is also important in its implicit reference to a cyclical model of a masculine journey that begins and ends at the same place—a model that underlies frontier revival literature. When thought of as a physical point along a cyclical journey, “lotus land” also connotes a point somewhere on the outer periphery of the circle, relatively far away from the beginning point of her journey. Since this return usually represents a restoration of Bodily/Self-Control in frontier revival texts, her allusion to “lotus land” implies a lack of interest in restoring cultural control at the end of her text. However, once again, this very image of testing the boundaries of a contained space (in this case the cycle of the journey itself) suggests an increase in perspective and knowledge that male   162   frontier revival authors see as necessary to their overall journeys. She conveys this sense of distance from her original starting point as a means of achieving perspective in her claim that “the world we had left seemed too far away for any disturbing sense of a feeling of homesickness” (“Northward” 51).109 This image of social departure, which recalls Duncan’s phrase, more explicitly suggests a process of having moved outside of a contained space and transitioned out of a particular Location/State. The idea of not wanting to return to her previous Location/State evokes the testing of cultural boundaries in the frontier revival frame, but takes it one step further by not wanting to restore the original boundaries or return to the original Location/State. By calling on the frontier revival frame in this way, Taylor rebels against the Anglo-Saxon imperialism of her male peers, while also suggesting that her rebellion is heroic, redemptive, and necessary for improving ideas of cultural progress. 4.6 Conclusion Duncan’s exclamation, “[a]nd thus we sped away” (20) near the beginning of A Social Departure captures how important this idea of departure is in both of these texts. The last frontier of western Canada in frontier revival literature becomes a site not just in which to prove their cultural authority, or to escape their own cultural backgrounds, but rather to do both at the same time. Both women assume a masculine model of self in frontier revival literature and push it to an extreme in their hyperbolic desire to endure a loss of Bodily/Self Control, and in their disinterest in restoring the cultural safety and order of eastern, urban society. By taking this masculine model of self to an extreme they suggest that the very act of escaping restrictive social expectations about gender is in itself a matter of cultural progress.   163   Writers such as Duncan and Taylor anticipate Virginia Woolf’s later claim in Three Guineas that “as a woman, I have no country. As a woman I want no country. As a woman my country is the whole world” (109). Early frontier revival literature by male writers such as W.H.H. Murray and Julian Ralph exaggerates the gendered distinctions beneath cross-border American rhetoric of continental unity, partly as a way of transcending the actual border and making American expansionist rhetoric more about gender, race, and language. These authors present this model of self in frontier revival literature as a masculine imperative to redefine and debate ideas of cultural progress and identity compared to women’s roles of maintaining cultural values in the domestic sphere. In this cross-border literature, the American nationalism of manifest destiny is replaced by an idea of nation that transcends geographical boundaries. Frontier revival authors promote a symbolic Ango-Saxon imperialism that is coded through the body. Consequently, the bodies that they represent as having control over defining and redefining the idea of empire are white and male. The imperialism in these texts occurs less as an affiliation with a particular state, than as an idea of imperialist identity through which to debate what it means to have a self and to be a citizen of the english-speaking western world. In frontier revival literature, Canada becomes a symbolic setting for imperialist expansion that transcends particular geographical boundaries. However, for women writers such as Duncan and Taylor, a Location/State was not simply an idea that could be applied across the border, but rather a political process from which they were literally disenfranchised. By taking male models of self in frontier revival literature to an extreme, they emphasize their own lack of a fixed Location/State through a dramatic departure from their gendered social roles. Furthermore, the setting of Canada in frontier revival literature as caught in the middle between two imperial powers contributes to a more self-reflexive treatment of imperialist identity amongst these women writers, particularly Duncan.   164   The movement out of contained spaces reflects increased opportunities for women to participate in the public sphere at the turn of the twentieth century. Duncan’s and Taylor’s departure from gender roles represents an entry onto a public stage on which to debate the terms of cultural identity and progress. Through my close reading, I hope to shed light on the ways that cross-cultural imperialism was coded through the white male travelling body at the time, and the ways that women writers appropriated such imperialist discourse to debate ideas of cultural progress. Duncan and Taylor are at the forefront of this specific discourse and also depart from it by laying the groundwork for a specifically cross-border female approach to frontier revival literature. Both writers use images of mobility to paradoxically enter the public sphere by publically announcing their departure from it so as to debate the roles of women on both sides of the border. They help to introduce us to a small, but influential and persistent group of women on both sides of the border who play a role in this larger discourse of cross-border North American imperialism. In part because of the time period and the genre of frontier revival literature, Duncan and Taylor offer prime examples of how the travelling body, and particularly the female travelling body, participates in cross-border debates of the day. The last push of American imperialist expansion into western Canada provides a vehicle, like Duncan’s cowcatcher, on which to symbolically push women into such public cross-border debates. Duncan and Taylor convey this paradoxical departure from (and entry into) the public sphere through the use of a male model of self in the frontier revival frame from a female perspective. In the frontier revival frame, the process of breaking out of Bounded Locations/States of self represents a means of gaining Bodily/Self-Control through perspective (getting outside of a contained space), increased Sight/Knowledge, and Movement/Change. Male frontier revival authors live out this model of Bodily/Self-Control without fully acknowledging that it is a   165   privilege from which women and other groups are excluded. Images of getting out of contained spaces throughout Duncan’s and Taylor’s texts convey an effort to escape restrictions on women’s social roles. Male authors of frontier revival literature represent the act of redefining ideas about States of cultural identity and progress in images of extreme Movement/Change in between, through, and at the edge of frontier Locations. This model of self was mapped experientially from the male travelling body onto masculine social roles, despite its ostensibly broader metonymic function. For Duncan and Tayor, the ability to move from one bounded location to another, to exist at extreme edges of confined spaces, or to move to extreme lengths outside of confined spaces proves that women can access and rewrite the Bodily/Self-Control of the male model of self presented in frontier revival literature. Furthermore, specific motifs such as focussing on personal Destinations/Goals, struggling for personal agency over the Force/Cause of their journeys, and a disinterest in restoring Bodily/Self-Control all help to emphasize a more self- reflexive perspective on the model of self in the frontier revival frame. By living the frontier revival through the female body, they provide a new model of self that encourages women on both sides of the border to acknowledge that they “have no country” (Woolf 109), to depart from their social roles, and to reshape and contest the terms of cultural progress from which they have been disenfranchised. 4.7 Notes to Chapter 4                                                                                                                 88 See Sweetser for a fuller discussion of containment.   166                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         89 Lakoff and Johnson define the OBJECTIVE STANDPOINT metaphor as mapping being outside of a contained space onto increased perspective (“step outside yourself”) (Philosophy in the Flesh 277). 90 Please refer to chapter 3 for fuller discussions of my approach to manifest destiny discourse. 91 Devereux suggests that Duncan is preoccupied with an idea “not of empire as space, but of the racialized bodies that inhabit it and move through it as themselves the space of empire” (48). Her suggestion that bodies were symbolic of empire is a useful reminder of the way that imperialist discourse was acted out on the level of the body in North American literature at the time in a way that often prioritized race and straddled geographical and national boundaries. This applies not only to the movement of bodies in symbolizing types of expansion, but also to types of bodies in promoting and privileging the expansion of certain groups over others. Frontier revival literature is a prime example of writing that nodded alternately to Canadian and American culture, while privileging the broader expansion of white North Americans. It is useful to examine how racialized and gendered bodies acted out different types of cross-border imperialist discourse at the time. 92 She revised her text when publishing it as a book so as to make it appeal more to a British audience (Milne 435). 93 In Dean’s biography of Duncan, A Different Point of View, she comments on Duncan’s persistent refusal to affiliate with “predetermined social and political categories” (8). 94 For a fuller discussion of this metaphor, see Lakoff and Johnson, Philosophy in the Flesh, 170. 95 Duncan’s discussion of the State of her mind as a Bounded Location is a good opportunity to discuss some cognitive linguistics work on containment, particularly given the importance of the SC and OS metaphors throughout my close readings. Lakoff and Johnson note that metaphors   167                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         such as States are Locations have many different inferences that go along with them (180-181). For instance, in the case of this metaphor, they explain some of the following inferences: “If you’re in a bounded region, you’re not out of that bounded region” and “[i]f you’re in a state, you’re not out of that state;” “[i]f you’re out of a bounded region, you’re not in that bounded region” and “[i]f you’re out of a state you’re not in that state; “[i]f you’re deep in a bounded region, you are far from being out of that bounded region” and “[i]f you’re deep in a state, you are far from being out of that state;” “[i]f you are on the edge of a bounded region, then you are close to being in that bounded region” and “[i]f you are on the edge of a state, then you are close to being in that state” (181). Sweetser also discusses some key metaphors relating to our understanding of self that involve containment. For instance, she identifies a PROTECTION IS CONTAINMENT metaphor and notes that “[c]ontainers limit, as well as protecting their contents” (30). Some examples of this in daily speech are “I feel too fragile to open up emotionally yet” (Sweetser 30). She also discusses the ESSENTIAL IS CENTRAL and STABLE/UNCHANGING IS CENTRAL metaphors, both of which relate to boundedness (Sweetser 28). As in the case of this passage from Duncan, the Bounded Location of the body can map onto States of self. However, the frontier revival authors also often describe moving in, between, and through bounded locations and it is important to think about how these interconnecting metaphors and inferences relating to containment emerge throughout these texts. 96 Right from the beginning of the text, Duncan sets up her travels with Orthodocia as a study in national types. As Susan Harris Smith and Melanie Dawson point out in The American 1890s, “[r]eferences to ‘types’ frequently appear in periodicals of the 1890s, emphasizing continued and often conflicting efforts to define identities and confirm prejudices about where and how   168                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         individuals fit into society” (75). From the very first line of her book, Duncan sets up this interest in types: “Orthodocia, as her name implies, is an English girl” (9). Labeling characters according to their nationality becomes a kind of playful endeavor that seems to reflect real underlying cultural differences, while also failing to define the characters fully. For instance, Orthodocia’s name is clearly a fictional attempt to describe her more conservative upbringing in relation to Duncan. Duncan’s own in-betweenness as a Canadian is often hinted at in the way that her persona shifts according to who she is talking to. In this opening passage where Duncan refers to herself as “that American young lady” (10) shortly after establishing Orthodocia’s English upbringing in the opening line of the book, she is clearly describing herself as American in relation to Orthodocia. Furthermore, in chapter 2, Duncan says “[i]t is very ‘American’ for young ladies to travel alone, but not such a common thing in my part of the continent” (17). In this passage, she uses the term in quotations and sets herself apart from it by alluding to Canada as a similar, but different “part of the continent.” Duncan’s general playful and self-conscious interest in the slipperiness of national types indicates an awareness of various different meanings for the term American. 97 This description of herself through someone else’s eyes is very similar to passages in the other texts, notably those of Cameron and Schäffer. Another way of looking at this passage and similar ones in other examples is through the lens of the MULTIPLE SELVES metaphor, which “conceptualized multiple values as multiple selves” (Lakoff and Johnson, Philosophy 280). In this metaphor, the subject refers to one’s Self as Other People whose Social Roles represent Values and Shared Location connotes Shared Values, while Disparate Locations represent Disparate Values (Lakoff and Johnson, Philosophy 280). Examples of this metaphor in daily language are “I keep going back and forth between my scientific self and my religious self;” “I keep returning to   169                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         my spiritual self” (Lakoff and Johnson, Philosophy 280). By referring to “‘that American young lady,’ which was me” (10), Duncan seems to identify herself as American; however, in keeping with the MULTIPLE SELVES metaphor, she actually refers to herself as two separate selves—“that American young lady” and “me.” As well, the use of the quotation, along with the use of the third person, and the word “that” (10) actually remind us that she is seeing herself relationally through the eyes of Orthodocia’s family, and in the context of their cultural background. The implied Disparity of Locations in this image of looking at herself through their eyes, implies a Disparity of Values between herself the national or cultural type by which she is labeled. 98 The allusion to Mars, the Roman god of war also subtly implies that marriage itself is a kind of battleground for women, rather than more traditional concepts of it as a source of security or comfort. 99 For instance, in The Oregon Trail, one of the most influential early frontier revival texts, Parkman portrays Aboriginal people as violent lurking enemies. While later texts are less violently charged in their racism, they often portray encounters with Aboriginal people as aggressive or threatening events that test their sense of control and wellbeing in the wilderness. 100 For other brief references to Taylor see LaFramboise’s Travellers in Skirts and Harding’s Journeys of Remarkable Women. 101 She says, “the twelve days at the Rapids of the Drowned passed away at last; and on the morning of the Fourth of July a whistle was heard, and around the bend of the river appeared the tiny steamer, which was to take us to the Mackenzie Delta” (“Arctic Circle” 126). 102 Duncan made many revisions to her autobiographical account by the time it was published as a book including turning Lily Lewis into a fictional British character (Milne 433).   170                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         103 For the entire poem, see The Complete Poetical Works of Oliver Wendell Holmes (12) where it appears as follows: Behold the rocky wall That down its sloping sides Pours the swift rain-drops, blending as they fall, In rushing river-tides! Yon stream, whose sources run Turned by a pebble's edge, Is Athabasca, rolling toward the sun Through the cleft mountain-ledge. The slender rill had strayed, But for the slanting stone, To evening's ocean, with the tangled braid Of foam-flecked Oregon. So from the heights of Will Life's parting stream descends, And, as a moment turns its slender rill, Each widening torrent bends,— From the same cradle's side, From the same mother's knee,— One to long darkness and the frozen tide, One to the Peaceful Sea!   171                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         104 See Mills’ Discourses of Difference for a discussion of the importance of clothes in negotiating discourses of femininity in women’s travel literature (8). 105 White male travellers were also highly dependent on (often Aboriginal) guides throughout their journeys. However, it is often the case that male authors either gloss over this dependency by describing their physical movements through the wilderness as more autonomous than they actually were, or by describing their relationship with their male guides as a kind of partnership of mutual dependency. This discrepancy partly reflects the increased physical independence that men had on the trail. The tendency among women authors to describe their movements as dependent on or as subject to others also reflects their appeal to, or at the very least, awareness of different social expectations around male and female behaviour. It also conveys in some cases, a more anti- imperialist awareness that seems to accompany their sense of increased dependency on others, and their difficulty as women in assuming the attitude of autonomy and control in the wilderness that is so common with their male peers. 106 Taylor uses several more examples of women as supplies including the following passages: “One boat was left, and in that the passengers, with a number of pieces, were to be sent” (“Northward” 53); “I had a comfortable seat on the tents between two guns, with our traps piled high about me” (“Arctic Circle” 122); “She was heavily laden, and the tiny space in front was piled high with boxes, tents and bags, and on these the passengers perched wherever they could find room” (“Arctic Circle” 126); “standing among our bags and rolls of bedding we watched the steamer get under way” (“Northward” 50). 107 “Peering out from my head-net I could see all kinds of botanical treasures in the swamps and pine-barrens. . . I kept my dry seat on the top of the wagon” (“Arctic Circle” 122).   172                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         108 The fact that Homer’s travellers get waylaid by women in lotus land is of course also a significant undercurrent to her allusion. By relating to the men in this literary allusion, she emphasizes that her travels represent an appropriation of masculine roles. She also destabilizes entrenched gender dichotomies associated with travel whereby women are seen as static Obstacles/Impediments to the Movement/Change towards a Destination/Goal. 109 Here are some other examples of Taylor either not wanting to go home or minimizing the return home: “It was with real regret that I left the little Wrigley, on which I had stayed so long” (“Homeward” 306); “A great change had taken place since I passed over the road before” (“Homeward” 311); “The return of the Arctic Expedition to civilization was even less imposing than its departure from the Latin Quarter of Paris” (“Homeward” 311).   173   5. New Sensations: Grace Gallatin’s A Woman Tenderfoot (1900) and Agnes Deans Cameron’s The New North (1909) . . . [T]he quick rushing blood, the bounding motion. -Grace Gallatin, A Woman Tenderfoot, 136. 5.1 Introduction By the time Grace Gallatin’s A Woman Tenderfoot was published right at the turn of the century, the persona of the proto-feminist female adventure tourist on the Canadian frontier had a recognizable caché because of earlier texts such as those by Duncan and Taylor. American Grace Gallatin (1872-1959) and Canadian Agnes Deans Cameron (1863-1912) both wrote significant adventure texts about western Canada during the first decade of the twentieth century that built upon earlier texts in important ways. Gallatin’s A Woman Tenderfoot (1900) and Cameron’s The New North (1909) are written from the similar perspective of adventurous eastern female travellers on a western or northwestern frontier with an interest in questioning ideas of gender and ethnicity that underlie imperialist discourses of frontier expansion. Unlike Duncan and Taylor, these authors present much more self-consciously personal and provocative personae with which to challenge readers’ perceptions. They use a large number of illustrations (in Gallatin’s text) and photographs (in the case of Cameron) to focus on their often iconoclastic activities and comportment. They also present their opinions much more freely than Duncan and Taylor by openly discussing issues of gender and race equality. The disruptive female travelling body is the focal point of their texts to a much greater extent than in the work of earlier writers.   174   This focus on the body emerges in several ways. First of all, they both refer to themselves as physically guiding the reader through their specific frontier location, and more broadly through the gender struggles of women’s daily lives. They also emphasize physical sensation as an alternative, supposedly more feminine and subjective, access to knowledge. As well, they skillfully play up tensions between conceptual metaphors to emphasize their personal inability to fit into any particular model of identity. While elements of doubleness or liminality are felt throughout earlier texts, they emerge in these later works in the increasingly modern era of mass media as a form of playful empowerment. These authors indicate a broader awareness of identity itself as a shifting, performative entity. Ideas of citizenship and heroism on the frontier were by then a fixture in the North American imagination and consisted of stock images and roles that were used to sell dime novels and magazines—even wars—to the American public, as in the case of Roosevelt’s speech “The Strenuous Life.” Audiences would have been more discerning and more sophisticated in their reading of frontier revival literature, more aware of the stock characters and plot twists of such work, and more likely to recognize such literature as a symbolic forum in which to live and re-live ideas of citizenship. Gallatin and Cameron speak confidently to a demographic familiar with debates about citizenship in frontier revival literature. The travelling female body comes even more to the forefront in these texts compared to those by Duncan and Taylor. Both authors present the female body as disruptive but with an air of confidence, evident, for instance, in Cameron’s direct gaze at the reader in so many of her photographs. This confident resistance to gender stereotypes implies a cultural recognition and actual demand for more original perspectives on the familiar literary conventions of frontier revival literature.   175   5.2 Grace Gallatin’s A Woman Tenderfoot I had the stage, centre front, and it was all I could attend to. -Gallatin, A Woman Tenderfoot, 119. Grace Gallatin’s well-known commitment to women’s rights and interest in women’s literature help to explain her confident personae in A Woman Tenderfoot. While little has been written about Gallatin’s life or work, she represents a unique and relevant figure within North American wilderness literature of the time. As Nick Mount observes in When Canadian Literature Moved to New York, Gallatin, who originally came from Chicago, was married to famous Canadian expatriate wilderness writer Ernest Seton-Thompson, and not only collaborated with him on his work, but also introduced him to her contacts in the elite New York arts circles near which they lived (103). She thus had an extremely close proximity to the circle of Canadian expatriate authors who Mount identifies as contributing prominently to the wilderness writing boom in the American east-coast publishing industry at the turn of the twentieth century (99). Especially given her prominent role in assisting and collaborating with Seton-Thompson, and her own literary treatment of Canadian and American settings, it is odd that Gallatin is so fleetingly mentioned in this recent comprehensive study of cross-border authors of that period. Despite, and maybe because of, her various roles ranging from wife to famous author, outspoken literary socialite, suffragist, prolific travel writer, and word traveller, she remains on the margins of scholarly work. In This Wild Spirit, Colleen Skidmore points out that Gallatin was a suffragist from the age of 17 and a lifelong political activist who was actively involved in associations of women’s literature and amassed an impressive collection of literary works by women (83). I believe that, far from   176   being a peripheral historical figure, Gallatin offers a striking feminist counter perspective to the wilderness literature of her male peers. In addition to Gallatin’s “infinite determination to secure larger, more adventurous lives for women” (Skidmore 78), she is also a skilled writer. A Woman Tenderfoot is very well crafted as a series of tightly edited tales about her travels, including stock frontier revival activities such as elk hunting, bear watching, cattle round-ups, and mining. As Joyce Kelley notes, Gallatin evokes popular romance novels in the sensationalist framing of her anecdotes (365). Her tone and use of cultural allusion situate her firmly within a well off, educated feminist perspective on wilderness literature by male writers. The playful, theatrical telling of her own adventures calls attention to the way such literature is not really of or about the west, but rather a projection of eastern North American literary concepts of citizenship. Gallatin’s direct addresses to the reader, along with her use of humour and poetic proverbs and lessons, echo Seton-Thompson’s animal stories and carve out a place for female authors to re-mythologize this made up west in a way that reflects the interests of women. From the very beginning of her text, Gallatin emphasizes the topic of physical mobility as the defining concern of her demographic. In her prefatory address to the reader she states: “I can only add that the events related really happened in the Rocky Mountains of the United States and Canada; and this is why, being a woman, I wanted to tell about them, in the hope that some going- to-Europe-in-the-summer-woman may be tempted to go West instead” (5). Gallatin here establishes Philippe Lejeune’s “autobiographical pact” (Eakin vii) with her readers, reminding them that the book is a factual account.110 In the context of women’s frontier revival literature, this pact occurs through the medium of the body. Secondly, she is talking directly to her readers and encouraging them not only to witness, or to believe, her but also to literally imitate her model   177   of physical behaviour. In other words, she emphasizes that ideas of going west, not to mention more standard prototypes of daily physical mobility on the frontier, can be reenacted by women in order to help them participate in redefining and representing ideas of cultural progress. Gallatin continually stresses that, “being a woman” (5), she appropriates male models of behaviour from a female perspective. This emphasis on the authenticity of performing her journey as a female proves to her reader that women are capable of living and redefining ideas of cultural progress. In her preface, Gallatin also defines her demographic according to types of physical mobility in her reference to “some going-to-Europe-in-the-summer-woman” (5) whom she hopes to encourage to “go west instead” (5). This exaggeratedly hyphenated term emphasizes her conviction that mobility is a defining factor in one’s identity. The casual and almost arbitrary nature of this type of voluntary mobility acknowledges the privilege of white upper middle class women who can travel to Europe on a whim. The accompanying image of herself, along with the note at the end of the passage that reads: “New York City, September 1st, 1900” (5), further identify her demographic as white, Anglo-Saxon, affluent women from the northeastern United States. However, this very sense of arbitrary mobility also implies an ironic lack of personal agency and hints at how women’s physical and social mobility are often restricted by marriage or social expectations. She suggests here that restrictions on where and how women travel are felt to varying degrees across the spectrum of female experience, thereby reminding us that gender inequalities can exist on all different socioeconomic levels. Her humourously hyperbolic way of referring to the reader promotes a heightened understanding of how women’s identities are shaped by social attitudes about physical mobility. By guiding women to “go West instead” (5), she implies that travelling westward offers a more progressive paradigm of physical and social mobility for women. This juxtaposition between the old and the new world echoes Frederick   178   Jackson Turner’s portrayal of the frontier as a mythic site of liberation from old world conservative values. She extends this mythic juxtaposition to women by pointing out their more urgent need for increased freedom of physical mobility. Here she offers two general paradigms of physical movement to her demographic. First of all, there is the broader Movement of going west as a cultural Change away from Europe, allowing for a national identity with more progressive attitudes about gender equality. Secondly, on a more micro level there are the models of daily physical freedom that she enacts on the western frontier to instruct readers about how to live such equality through the body itself. Throughout the text, Gallatin represents herself as physically interacting with readers so as to present a model of physical activity for them to follow. For instance, in the introduction entitled “The Why of it,” she starts off by saying, “but briefly, in order to come to this story, I must have a side talk with the Woman-who-goes-hunting-with-her-husband” (9). Gallatin visualizes the story as a kind of Destination/Goal that she approaches. This hyphenated term to describe her demographic is even more specific than the previous one. She locates her readers even more deliberately within the northeastern American climate of wilderness literature. Once again, the use of a hyperbolic hyphenated term indicates that even women of this privileged class do not have the same access to the ideas of cultural identity formation and independence in wilderness literature as their male counterparts. Gallatin’s insistence that she must have a “side talk” (9) with the female reader in order to reach the Destination/Goal of the story suggests an awareness of this marginalization. It also hints at her own effort to change social attitudes about gender in order to allow women to reap the same cultural rewards as men from the models of physical activity in wilderness literature. Gallatin repeatedly cajoles the reader to reject traditional gender conventions by copying her models of physical behaviour. For instance, in the second   179   chapter, in which she offers a detailed guide about how to prepare for a trip west, she declares, “[s]o enough; come with me and learn how to be vulgarly robust” (11). This physically interactive approach to her demographic challenges the reader to have more critical distance from social attitudes about the female body. She also offers a practical understanding of how changing one’s patterns of physical mobility either by going west or by being more physically active can allow access to the cultural capital111 of wilderness literature. Gallatin offers specific advice on how to be “vulgarly robust” (11) so as to encourage a life of increased physical activity, psychological freedom and social mobility amongst her female readers. She encourages readers to experience the “pleasure to use your muscles, to buffet with the elements, to endure long hours of riding, to run where walking would do, to jump an obstacle instead of going around it” (11). This idea of embracing Obstacles/Difficulties evokes the culturally redemptive struggle in the wilderness in frontier revival literature. Her exaggerated eagerness to confront these Obstacles/Difficulties through almost excessive physical exertion proves that women too can fill the previously masculinist role of pushing the bounds of cultural progress inscribed in such literature. Gallatin dares the reader “to return physically at least, to your pinafore days when you played with your brother Willie. Red blood means a rosecolored world. Did you feel like that last summer at Newport or Narragansett?” (11). She guides the reader to return to the physical freedom of youth, which she associates with increased gender equality. The idea of this childlike freedom as a physical return (involving a reversal of direction) to the equality of youth connects Movement through space with Change over a woman’s lifetime. While images of Movement/Change usually refer to a form of progress, Gallatin suggests in this image of return that as women grow older, they internalize negative gender stereotypes that must be unlearned. As well, it is interesting that Gallatin describes the Movement/Change (and implied   180   progress) of the westward journey as a return for women. She suggests that the type of cultural progress envisioned on the frontier should not be seen as an unprecedented freedom for women, but rather as a simple return to the levelling ground of physical mobility and agency that both genders arguably share before internalizing gender norms. Also, this image of return recalls the redemptive cyclical journey of the traveller in frontier revival literature and Turner’s frontier myth. She aligns the progress of women’s rights with the culturally redemptive pursuit of cultural progress as a whole. Just as Turner’s prototypical male traveller must shed the physical and accompanying psychological burdens of civilization in order to redefine the nation on the frontier, so too must Gallatin’s women travellers shed the burden of socialized gender norms to partake in the ideals of progress so celebrated by their male peers. Gallatin emphasizes the importance of changing paradigms of female physical mobility through her focus on experiencing “new sensation[s].” For instance, when she gets lost trying to follow her husband on horseback, she states, “I just clung to the saddle, trusting to Blondey’s instinct to follow the other animal, and tried to enjoy the fact that I was getting a new sensation” (56). In another episode, she loses control of her horse when it gallops away with her, causing her to lose many of her possessions and her hair to fall dramatically down her back. Similarly, she comments, “well it was a sensation any way—an absolutely new one” (89). The word sensation connotes subjective, and often stereotypically feminine ways of experiencing one’s environment either through the senses or through emotion. In both of the above passages, Gallatin gets through uncomfortable or frightening experiences by assuring herself that experiencing a “new sensation” is the Destination/Goal of her trip. This is an interesting variation on the writing of her male peers who portray the act of overcoming Obstacles/Difficulties as a way of controlling their environments.   181   As with Duncan and Taylor, Gallatin suggests that the act of expanding the limits on women’s physical sensations is necessary in order to encourage psychological and emotional independence. The novel of sensation was a particular genre of writing, originating in nineteenth- century English literature that was defined by lewd and melodramatic subject matter and was prominently contributed to by women authors (Cuddon 643). Sensation fiction also influenced Victorian periodical culture and female journalists engaged in the new woman debate with a shared interest in “aberrant women and on gender inequalities of the social system (particularly of marriage), and in depicting women frustrated or maddened as a result of male abuse of these inequities” (Palmer 159-160).112 In Front Page Girls, Jean Lutes shows how late nineteenth- century American sensation journalism prominently featured female “stunt reporters” (2) whose highly corporeal and personalized personae offered “new models of self-reflexive authorship” (3) and challenged gender norms and masculinist conventions of journalistic objectivity (5-6). Gallatin’s repetition of the word sensation to the reader, particularly considering the didactic tone of the text, describes the novelty of expanding her personal boundaries as of public importance by subtly aligning herself with sensationalist motifs. Gallatin’s outspoken suffragist beliefs and her strong enthusiasm for women’s literature also suggest that she would have been well aware of these intersections between sensation fiction, new woman debates, and women’s fiction and periodical writing. Her focus on sensation throughout the text places the disorderly female body of the new woman right at the centre of familiar images of masculine heroism so as to publicize the novelty of her physical experiences as representative of progress for women and for the nation. This focus on physical sensation is reprised at the end of the book when she describes a kind of physical and psychological transformation. Gallatin ends the text by stating that she is a “woman tenderfoot no longer” (136), hinting that like her male peers, her journey represents a   182   metonymic personal transformation. However, this transformation takes on different meanings because it revolves around the female body. Like stunt reporters, Gallatin emphasizes the sheer physical novelty of her female body changing at the end of the text in order to illustrate that women too can take part in redefining their own identities and ideas of cultural progress. At the end of the text, she also presents a catalogue of experiences on her journey and, not coincidentally, much of the list consists of verbs relating to the senses or to feelings. She presents images of being “sung asleep,” “nearly frozen” and “baked” (135), which all describe her as going through dramatic physical changes. The almost grotesque and painful nature of these images of metamorphosis, reminiscent of classical myth or of Grimm’s fairytales, exaggerates the sense of personal and cultural transformation in more traditional frontier revival texts by men.113 Compared to her male peers, whose struggles to push the bounds of cultural progress are part of a more generally scripted role to which they can adhere, the female traveller must struggle and transform herself in the effort to merely gain access to this iconography of cultural progress. Her emphasis on personal transformation occurs on the level of physical sensation to remind us of the struggle to access the basic physical freedoms that allow women to partake in the ideals of social mobility in frontier revival literature. In this same passage, Gallatin explains that in trying to access the role of the male traveller, she is more interested in pushing the bounds of the basic daily Bodily/Self-Control of women, rather than more grandiose imperialist aims of westward expansion. Her struggle to fill male roles is evident in her statement, “I know what it means to be a miner and a cowboy” (135). However, she observes that “best of all, I have felt the charm of the glorious freedom, the quick rushing blood, the bounding motion, of the wild life, the joy of the living and of the doing, of the mountain and the plain; I have learned to know and feel some” (136). By focussing on the physical and   183   emotional sensations of her experience here in the climactic ending to her book, and in almost graphic terms, Gallatin asserts that this struggle for basic physical agency for women is the main Destination/Goal of her journey. She suggests that it is harder to come by than the seemingly greater cultural goals of imperialist expansion. By stating that she “learned to know and feel some” (136), she again attributes a sense of intellectual credibility to “new sensation[s]” (56). Her increased physical freedom on the frontier transforms her self-knowledge, a process that is for her, more important than conquering the west. Gallatin stresses that for women to see themselves and be seen as people who question and redefine, rather than merely obstructing or upholding, ideas of cultural progress, they must have access to the kinds of basic physical sensations that accompany such psychological and social agency. At several points, Gallatin contrasts types of movement to indicate different social attitudes toward men and women. For instance, during the cattle round up when she takes on a distinctly masculine role, she imagines one of the cowboys having to choose between his lover in the east and his lifestyle in the west: “On the one hand, peace, comfort, affection, and the eternal sameness; on the other, effort, hardship, fighting sometimes, but ever with the new day a whole world of unlived possibilities, change, action, and bondage to no one” (109). Gallatin’s description of the staid, civilized eastern background of the cowboy and the active independence of his western frontier life acknowledges the longstanding romanticized juxtaposition between ideas of east and west in frontier adventure literature. The reference to a woman waiting for him at home acknowledges deep-seated cultural beliefs about urban, eastern influences as a feminizing threat to the more rugged masculinity of the west. Through the lens of Gallatin’s self-reflexively female persona, we become aware that far from being the fault of women, such eastern restraints are due to socially constructed gender norms with which women such as Gallatin struggle.   184   Gallatin identifies a regional dichotomy in which the western frontier represents freedom from oppressive social norms. She reminds the reader that she experiences this dichotomy through the test case of her own body in her use of the phrase, “on the one hand.” Her reference to “change” and “action” in reference to the frontier evokes mappings between Movement/Change and Self- Propelled Movement/Action. Drawing on the OBJECTIVE STANDPOINT metaphor, she portrays the State of masculine freedom on the western frontier as Perspective/Objectivity outside of a restrictive Bounded Location. In other words, she represents a paradigm of masculine social freedom on the western frontier as one of continual and unrestricted Movement/Change that pushes boundaries and gains increased perspective on the self. In contrast, the allusion to “peace,” “comfort,” and “sameness” corresponds to the inferences of protection and lack of Movement/Change in the SELF AS CONTAINER metaphor. Here we have two opposing States/Locations of self corresponding with the OBJECTIVE STANDPOINT and the SELF AS CONTAINER metaphors. Gallatin’s observations of this male figure shed light on how these metaphors correspond with the regional distinction between east and west and different gendered models of behaviour in mainstream frontier literature of the time. Gallatin’s personal trials throughout the text often revolve around trying to get out of the state of containment that she associates with the overly protective confines of the private sphere. Perhaps not coincidentally, it is when Gallatin first enters Canada in Winnipeg that she encounters her first major conflict with what she perceives to be antiquated, gender norms in the figure of another woman. Upon giving away some flowers to a sick woman on the train, she unwittingly falls into a cycle of ongoing social niceties. She describes this type of interaction as being confined in small spaces against her will. For instance, she sees herself as walking “into the aura” (113) of the woman, and her first glimpse of the woman is described as follows: “I noticed a made   185   up berth in which was reclining a young woman and hovering over her solicitously a man, evidently the husband” (114). The image of walking into the woman’s aura again evokes the SELF AS CONTAINER metaphor to represent a State of self as a Bounded Location. However, once again, the idea of this location as magical or luring the author against her will evokes the OBJECTIVE STANDPOINT metaphor and the idea that containment offers a restrictive lack of perspective. The image of the woman in a small berth, being watched over by her husband, associates this state of containment with the double-edged nature of the private domestic sphere, in that the woman’s privileged and protected status goes hand-in-hand with a restrictive state of infantilization. Gallatin further emphasizes her fear of being trapped by more traditional gender roles when she describes being intercepted by this woman as she attempts to step out of the train for fresh air: “I was thanked. Up and down, backwards and forwards, inside and out, and all hands around” (115). This exaggerated image of Gallatin being completely physically surrounded by the woman’s polite attention portrays the social codes of female behaviour as metaphorically restrictive and also literally restrictive in women’s lives through clothing, norms of physical decorum and the confinement to domestic spaces. The fact that this image is at once of enclosure and chaotic movement in different directions hints at the tension between the SELF AS CONTAINER and the OBJECTIVE STANDPOINT metaphors, whereby containment is both protective and restrictive. Gallatin’s ambivalence toward her own gender roles emphasizes these tensions. Gallatin uses the verb plunge to represent her ambivalence toward the gender roles of her day. For instance, after spending two chapters explaining the preparations and broader circumstances of her journey, she titles the chapter that actually begins to recount her adventures, “THE FIRST PLUNGE OF THE WOMAN TENDERFOOT” (26). Used to signal her departure   186   for the west, the verb hints at an escape from a contained space—in this case, the physical restrictions on women’s experiences. She uses the metaphor of being plunged into a much larger physical space to indicate the novelty of pushing boundaries on female experience. Plunging out of her smaller bounded space is liberating (OBJECTIVE STANDPOINT) and also destabilizing (SELF AS CONTAINER). We see this tension even more so in her later use of the word during the cattle round up when she states, “[t]his was a chance for me to be relieved of my crass ignorance concerning round-ups, really to have a definite conception of the term instead of the sea of vagueness and conjecture into which I was plunged by the usual description” (103). In this passage, she describes the unknown nature of masculine activities on the frontier as a kind of large sea into which she is pushed. Evoking the SELF AS CONTAINER and OBJECTIVE STANDPOINT metaphors, this image is simultaneously destabilizing (as a loss of a bounded container in the former metaphor) and freeing (as a means of gaining perspective in the latter). By moving out of one Bounded Location, she moves beyond the protective and restrictive State of her more traditional, eastern female gender role. Rather than portraying this leap out of her comfort zone as a straightforward transition into an open space, she represents it as a move into a bigger Bounded Location. In other words, the transition out of her gender role leads to a new point of view, which is actually just a different State of being associated with more masculine gender roles. This passage is reminiscent of Duncan’s wry observation in A Social Departure that despite being socially acceptable, marriage is metaphorically a much more treacherous journey than actually travelling around the world with a female companion. Gallatin is pointing out here that by literally joining the cattle round up with the male cowboys, she is avoiding a much more treacherous metaphorical plunge that occurs when trying to understand other ways of life from which one is sheltered as a woman. By actually trying the roundup, she learns physically and   187   psychologically how to take on a different form of identity, which she sees as a more practical and safe way of equipping women with life experience, rather than letting them be thrown into a changing society without understanding the rules. In other words, like Duncan, she suggests that it is safer to learn how to push boundaries of experience (to set precedents) than to struggle to understand attitudes and lifestyles from which one is excluded. And in order to do this, one must learn alternative paradigms of physical behaviour. These tensions between in and out remind us that cultural ideas of progress on the frontier rely on this very tension because of the process of pushing boundaries and moving in between States/Locations. While this state of transition between in and out evokes ideas of pushing the limits of cultural progress, it also reflects Gallatin’s own sense of being stuck between the private domestic sphere of traditional female roles and the more active lifestyle of men on the western frontier. Gallatin takes advantage of her conflicting personae throughout the book as a way of tapping into the underlying metaphorical tensions related to the testing of cultural boundaries in frontier revival literature. By doing so, she relates her own struggle to expand the boundaries of women’s experiences to wider ideas of cultural progress. Gallatin plays up the tensions between the SELF AS CONTAINER and OBJECTIVE STANDPOINT metaphors by experiencing her physical confinement in the wagon during the round up as being left out of the male activities around her. After informing the reader that her husband found out about her participation in the roundup, Gallatin wryly states: “I rode in the wagon” (111). The simplicity of this statement indicates how culturally resonant images of physical confinement were for women at the time as she does not have to explain why her husband makes this decision or even that he communicates this decision to her. The statement “I rode in the wagon” immediately evokes the ideas of protection (SELF AS CONTAINER) and   188   restriction (OBJECTIVE STANDPOINT) associated with containment and women’s confinement to traditional domestic roles. She then portrays this confinement as being outside of the action of the cowboys and of the male role that she had just performed. She notes that, “From the time I got into the wagon and became a mere onlooker, my point of view changed. The exhilaration of action had disappeared. I was a cowboy no longer” (111). This passage evokes the OBJECTIVE STANDPOINT metaphor as the process of getting into the wagon forces her to look at the masculine role in the cattle round up from the outside. However, the process of looking at the roundup occurs in the bounded location of the wagon. Her return to the Bounded Location/State of female containment calls on the SELF AS CONTAINER metaphor to represents a process of looking with a critical eye at the male frontier roles from which she is excluded. Gallatin plays on the opposing meanings of in and out to emphasize the complexity of her female subject position in frontier revival literature. Throughout her physical trials, Gallatin creates a new ideal of female Bodily/Self -control. While hunting an elk, she comments, “I was conscious of nothing to the right, or to the left of me; only of what I was going to do” (40). In this passage, she implies that she is in a contained space with no peripheral Sight/Knowledge outside of this Bounded Location/State. In this case, her bounded location is not that of a fixed domestic space lacking in Movement/Change, but rather a controlled path. As with frontier revival literature in general, the bounded path of the traveller evokes both the Bodily/Self-Control of the Bounded Location/State (associated with the SELF AS CONTAINER metaphor), as well as the process of Movement/Change (with the possibility of moving outside of Bounded Locations) in the OBJECTIVE STANDPOINT metaphor. This exaggerated description of controlled mobility along a bounded path indicates her heightened self- reflexivity as a female traveller in trying to push the boundaries of women’s identity formation.   189   Later when having to drive a horse and carriage up a mountain in the Canadian Rockies, she notes, “There was no place for mistakes. There was no place for anything but the right thing” (125). In this passage, Gallatin is literally forced to steer the wagon on a fixed path with a cliff on one side and a sheer drop on the other. With no leeway, she must physically adapt in order to stay on the bounded path of the trail. “The right thing” represents staying within the bounded path. Unlike being confined to a domestic sphere without Movement/Change, this bounded location is one of extreme Movement/Change in which she must navigate and test the boundaries not only of her own physical body and geographical environment, but also of her cultural surroundings. Her very effort to stay in the bounded space represents a process of testing her own limits. Gallatin also describes being in a bounded space as a way of indicating a kind of inclusion within a social group that is paradoxically found outside the confines of the domestic sphere. Sweetser sheds light on this idiomatic use of in and out in her study of containment in Julius Ceasar. She observes that “SOCIAL ACCEPTANCE (or positive social position) is CENTRALITY, and SOCIAL REJECTION (or negative social position) is PERIPHERALITY OR EXCLUSION” (34).114 During the cattle round up, Gallatin makes this connection between “social position” and “centrality” (Sweetser 34) by exclaiming, “Oh, but I do not want to be so far away and look on; I want to be in it” (104). Here the image of looking from far away indicates a lack of Sight/Knowledge based on a peripheral and thereby less important Location/State. This peripheral position suggests a lack of importance according to the CENTRAL IS ESSENTIAL metaphor. In this case, being “in” indicates Bodily/Self-Control through containment and also inclusiveness and self-control in a cultural group. In this case, the group in question is associated with her male peers in frontier revival literature and their male readership. Gallatin makes the interesting switch between “in” as being trapped in the domestic sphere of the wagon and “in” as   190   belonging to the masculine activity that she watches. This shifting of metaphors emphasizes her own shifts between different models of gendered behaviour throughout the text and between different experiences of inclusion and exclusion. It also shows an awareness of just how subjective and fluid these gendered models of cultural identity are. Gallatin’s awareness of the performativity of physical models of behaviour is more explicit during a sequence when she falls off her horse (See Fig 5.1). Ignoring her famous nature-writer husband, she claims: “I had the stage, centre front, and it was all I could attend to” (119). It is no coincidence that she describes her independent physical efforts to save herself as being at the centre of a stage. The SELF AS CONTAINER metaphor here indicates her deliberate entry into the masculine sphere of defining cultural progress through physical tests in the wilderness. Gallatin’s fantasy of conjuring a stage here highlights the dramatic or heroic nature of her physical movements in a way that is undeniably tongue-in-cheek. It reminds the reader that the ideas of cultural heroism in frontier tourism are neither inherently gendered nor essential at all, but rather culturally authorized performances. Gallatin also presents the body itself as a Bounded Location/State over which women must gain more control. For instance, during her climactic struggle, she describes the process of conquering her fears and steering the wagon over the mountain, saying, “I grabbed the reins in both hands” (124). This idiom of taking the reins is an example of how a physical action becomes synonymous with an abstract idea.115 Taking the reins usually signifies a process of taking control of a situation. Gallatin’s use of this idiom emphasizes her own body as a Bounded Location to convey a process of regaining control over her State of mind. The implied State of control over her surroundings indicates that control over the Bounded Location of one’s Body also reflects increased Self-Control in other types of Bounded Locations/States. In trying to encourage women   191   to be brave in the wilderness, Gallatin observes earlier on that “there is only one thing to do—keep your nerve, grasp it firmly, and look at it closely” (42). In this passage, the State of courage for women is understood as the Bounded Location of the female body. This image of holding tightly onto an abstract concept describes the body as creating a Bounded Location/State separate from its surroundings. Reminiscent of the SELF CONTROL IS OBJECT CONTROL metaphor, in which the self is described as an object (Lakoff and Johnson, Philosophy 270), this image describes one’s self-confidence as something that can be held and looked at as an extension of the containment of the body itself. Once again, there is a tension between the SELF AS CONTAINER (whereby Self- Control is Containment) and the OBJECTIVE STANDPOINT metaphors (whereby perspective is found by getting outside the self). Gallatin evokes the tension between different states of self in frontier literature through testing the boundaries of the self or existing in a state of transition and deliberately evokes these tensions in her encouragements of women so as to show that they too can access and contest ideas of cultural progress. 5.3 Cameron’s The New North . . . we can but look and feel. -Agnes Deans Cameron, The New North, 159. Cameron was also outspoken about women’s rights and had groundbreaking success as a teacher, traveller, journalist, writer and lecturer. In 1890, she worked as a teacher in Victoria, becoming the first female high school instructor in British Columbia, and going on four years later to work as the first female principal in the province (Pazdro 102). Involved in organizations such as the   192   Canadian Women’s Press Club, the Y.M.C.A., and the suffrage movement (Richeson viii), Cameron promoted “equal rights” feminism (Pazdro 101) and was outspoken about education reform (Pazdro 105), believing that students should be taught “responsibilities of citizenship” (Pazdro 107). These interests in education reform, citizenship, and women’s rights inform The New North at every turn and should guide modern readers to look beneath Cameron’s use of imperialist frontier expansion rhetoric to her underlying inquiries about human rights and ideas of cultural progress. Cameron’s outspoken beliefs ultimately led to her suspension from her job in 1901, after which she worked for Canadian and American magazines (Pazdro 109).116 When she lost her job in 1906, Cameron moved to Chicago to work for the Western Canadian Immigration Association (Pazdro 116). Similar to Gallatin, Cameron was immersed in a cross-border literary climate and presented a feminist perspective on it. On the surface, The New North is dryer and more pedantic in tone than A Woman Tenderfoot and not as directly written as a guide for female travellers. It is important to remember that Cameron’s financial dependency on her work required her to carefully consider her reading demographic. She was influenced by the fixation with western Canada in American newspapers and by Canadian government and business interests in promoting western Canada to American immigrants and investors (Richeson viii). Not having the same access to Gallatin’s well-off, eastern female readership, Cameron wrote strategically with these cultural perspectives in mind. She frames her text, particularly at the beginning and end, with a mixture of Canadian nationalism and American rhetoric about frontier expansion. By reading past the surface language of frontier expansion, we can discover Cameron’s actual interests in promoting the rights of women and Aboriginal people, and in questioning ideas of cultural progress. The subversive and complex   193   layers in Cameron’s text occur largely through her inventive, incongruous, and destabilizing representations of the body in photographs and descriptions of physical movement. There have been some scholarly responses to Cameron’s book, most of which comment on her unorthodox layering of perspectives on the north. Several scholars have pointed out that Cameron expresses an interest in women and Aboriginal people in the text (Pazdro 118; Laframboise 152; Roy 54; Reid 61). LaFramboise argues that Cameron draws on popular discourses of Canada as northern (150), in order to convey her underlying interest in the roles that women play in the north (152). Roy also draws attention to Cameron’s particular fascination with notions of primacy in The New North and points out that claims of being first, usually facilitated through “technologies of representation and communication,” are central to travel literature (53). As well, Reid identifies Cameron as a new woman (41), skilled at presenting a carefully crafted persona with which to “curb her political views” (85). In my own work on Cameron, I build on these earlier scholars by focussing specifically on how she develops a new woman persona in the north through her emphasis on the female body .117 Furthermore, I am interested not only in Cameron’s focus on women in the north, but also in her wider engagement with ideas about gender, ethnicity, and citizenship at the heart of imperialist travel conventions. In The New North, Agnes Deans Cameron adopts a strong physical persona in relation to the reader. At the beginning of the text, she exclaims, “[w]ell, we had tried sweat and longing for two years, with planning and hoping and the saving of nickels, and now we are off” (1). Cameron’s use of the pronoun “we” refers to her female travelling companion and niece, Jesse Cameron. Her allusion to their conflict and anticipation in facing their long awaited journey also implicitly includes their female demographic in this “we.”118 Her use of the present tense also includes readers in her journey as though they are physically accompanying her as they turn the   194   page. Like Gallatin, she establishes this physical presence from the start and includes her female readers in this physicality by acting as a kind of guide. She even describes the trajectory of their journey as if referring to their personal physical movements. For instance, she declares, “Turning sharply to the north, we travel two hundred miles” (17). This way of addressing the reader reminds us that far from being simply a travelogue, the account of her journey is significantly told through the medium of the female body. Similar to Duncan, Cameron starts off her text with an emphasis on travelling to extreme frontier regions. Quoting from Merchant of Venice, she claims “Shakespeare makes his man say, ‘I will run as far as God has any ground,’ and that is our ambition” (1-2). In the original context of the play, this statement equates travelling to an extreme region with a kind of hypothetical demonstration of the speaker’s individual will. Once again, this image of pushing into an extreme frontier region represents a metaphorical testing of one’s personal and cultural boundaries. Cameron’s use of this quote immediately establishes this metaphorical connection in readers’ minds and aligns her with masculine models of identity and masculine literary traditions. Her comment that this is “our ambition” also reminds us that she is living the paradigm of frontier revival literature through the female body. She elaborates: “we are to travel north and keep on going till we strike the Arctic—straight up through Canada” (2). This common equation of north with up evokes the Control is Up metaphor, as well as more complex ideas of cultural hierarchy. The description of moving through the Bounded Location of Canada indicates a process of pushing the literal and metaphorical boundaries of a Location/State. The extreme vertical movement dramatically reconfigures the North American map so that what matters is not geographical borders, but rather expansion into frontier zones on behalf of eastern, white, Anglo- Saxon North Americans. The image of constant, linear motion with the extreme Destination/Goal   195   of the Arctic portrays this physical endeavour as a personal and cultural pilgrimage. Moreover, her plan to “strike the Arctic” evokes a kind of masculine, imperialist view of expansion in the north as the height of cultural progress. Cameron describes her journey as part of a shared ongoing movement of previous male explorers to establish her credibility as an adventure traveller in the north. She notes, “[f]rom that far-off day in spring when we first touched the Clearwater we have been following in the historic footprints of Sir Alexander Mackenzie” (273). This common expression of following in another’s footsteps is a good example of conceptual metaphor in an everyday idiom. In keeping with the LES, LS and SC metaphors, she presents us with the idea of following along the imagined Bounded Location of previous explorers’ paths through the north as a way to achieve a State of cultural progress. The Bounded Location represents a State of self and the Movement in this path represents directed Change in the State of self over time. The idea of following in the footsteps of an early male explorer associates this cultural progress with the imperialist expansion of Anglo- Saxon culture in the northwest. As Roy points out, this description of white men’s footprints subtly prioritizes their version of history and erases earlier Aboriginal presence in the north (56). Cameron describes her preoccupation with these male explorers: “for six months we have been treading the silent places. We have thought much of these faith possessed men who found the roads that others follow” (292). Cameron develops her idiom here in the contrast between finding roads and following them. On the level of conceptual metaphor, the image of literally carving a path through the forest conveys an interesting metaphorical tension. For one thing, finding a path indicates a process of moving into a Bounded Location and forging a newly stable or fixed State of self. However, the implication of having broken off other more beaten paths and also of finding a path through a wilderness area at the periphery of bigger geographical territories, implies   196   a process of expanding the boundaries of the self. It is no coincidence that Cameron uses an image of such tension because like other women travellers, she identifies and idealizes a paradoxical model of self amongst earlier male explorers that is based on the ability to define ideas of cultural progress through the very process of pushing boundaries of cultural identity. While Cameron sees herself as following, rather than forging, such models of self, these tensions raise questions as to the creative and transformative potential of the very act of following. As her narrative continues, we find in this derivative aspect of her text, a continuing emphasis on her own act of pushing the boundaries of the very paths that she ostensibly imitates or follows. Cameron implies that she expands on the nation building practices of earlier male explorers by actively interpreting and imagining these earlier explorers. Like so many frontier revival authors, Cameron quotes Kipling, and she goes so far as to imagine him speaking backward in time to Mackenzie, while trying herself to follow in their footsteps. This fantastical image of Kipling speaking to Mackenzie draws attention to her own role in identifying with previous models of male exploration, and in actively reimagining these models. Certain inconsistencies in Cameron’s account suggest that, while Cameron claimed to have found one of Mackenzie’s camps, she may have misidentified the site (Roy 62). The actual unreliability of her account is a reminder of Cameron’s openly subjective appropriation of the stories of early male explorers. For instance, she adds that “I try hard to throw back my thoughts to the year 1792—one hundred and sixteen years. It is a far call!” (274).119 Cameron’s image of throwing her thoughts back in time is interesting because she describes the process of following in these male travellers’ footsteps (in order to attain cultural progress) as a process of actually going backwards. The image of struggling to throw herself backwards indicates a sense of conflict and suggests that their ideas of cultural progress may ironically be anachronistic or inaccurate. As well, her struggle to go   197   backwards reminds us that these ideas of cultural progress are not inherent or natural, but require her to actively imagine them and struggle to identify with them in a way that may involve some level of conflict. Cameron consistently reminds the reader that while she pays homage to previous male explorers, she retains a critical distance from them not only to highlight her own achievements, but also as a way of criticizing the legacy of expansion in the west. When visiting Peace River Crossing and what she claims to identify as Mackenzie’s historic camp-site, she observes that “the lost camp had never been photographed until we brought our inquisitive camera to bear upon it” (273). In this passage, Cameron implicitly compares herself to Mackenzie in the sense that she rediscovers his camp and captures it through photography. The image of the camera “bear[ing] upon” the camp immediately evokes two meanings—that of the camera touching the camp physically and that of it affecting and influencing the place itself. Cameron reminds us of the role of the camera in physically capturing this destination and in achieving the more abstract goal of marking the cultural significance of her own visit. By suggesting that she leaves her mark physically on the place through the lens of the camera, she emphasizes the importance of her physical journey in recreating and re-interpreting the journeys of earlier male explorers. As Roy points out, technology works in the text to prove Cameron’s precedent-setting perspective on the north not only as an explorer, but also as a woman “overstepping gender boundaries” (76). The camera serves not only to prove Cameron’s ability to embody ideas of cultural progress as a woman, but also to provide a more progressive and perhaps skeptical perspective on such ideas of progress. On several occasions, Cameron emphasizes the novelty of adopting typically masculine roles from a female point of view, and she equates this novelty with the type of precedent setting achievements of earlier male explorers. She notes, “we are the first white women who have   198   penetrated to Fort Rae, and we afford as much interest to the Indians as they afford us” (242). This image of penetration was common amongst male explorers and was part of her “literary vocabulary” (Roy 57). Cameron’s use of this phallic imagery to describe their encounter with Aboriginal people in Fort Rae aligns her with the imperialist tradition of male white explorers along the lines of race. However, Cameron’s description of a mutual fascination between herself and the Aboriginal people implies that her precedent setting role as a white female explorer is not just a matter of proving herself according to previous imperialist models, but is also a matter of reinventing such models in a more socially conscious way. Near the end of the book, Cameron goes so far as to sponsor and give her name to a Cree baby in order for its mother to receive treaty payment. Describing herself as fathering the child, Cameron states, “may she follow pleasant trails” (251). Once again, she positions herself in a stereotypically masculine and imperialist role in relation to Aboriginal people. However, despite the quite literally paternalistic attitude that she adopts in passages such as these, she also identifies with Aboriginal people in a way that stands out from the language and assumptions found in previous texts by male explorers. In fact her wish for the child to “follow pleasant trails” directly projects her own role as a female traveller with its sense of novelty and opportunity onto the child herself. She uses her identification with the male role of explorer to identify with Aboriginal people, and to attempt to extend the ideas of cultural progress to which she has just managed to gain access. Her sense of doubleness as a white imperialist traveller and as a woman informs her complex identification with Aboriginal people throughout the text. Cameron also uses various metaphors to represent the development of northwestern Canada and to describe herself as both participating in and as separate from this imperialist expansion. Near the beginning of the text she states, “the tide of immigration has stopped south of where we   199   stand. But that there stretches beyond us a country rich in possibilities we know” (26). Cameron describes frontier expansion as a wave that has stopped at the Canadian/American border. Canada, particularly northern Canada, appears as a large Bounded Location/State into which this tide can pour. In other words, the movement of Americans into Canada, and more generally Anglo-Saxon white easterners across the continent, represents a shifting from one Location/State to another. She presents this movement it as a kind of cultural progress found in pushing the very geographical boundaries of the continental west. By positioning herself at this boundary, she acts as a guide who foretells and witnesses this larger cultural movement. The tide of immigration is a Large Moving Object/External Event that exerts Force and Causal agency. While Cameron documents this cultural change and accepts it as a natural progression, she also indicates her critical distance from it by placing herself in this boundary position. Cameron expresses a similar ambivalence toward the metaphor of the nation as being born on the western Canadian frontier. At one point she declares that “we are witnessing here the birth- throes of an entirely new nation” (297), and later she adds, “God has intended this to be the cradle of a new race, a race born of the diverse entities now fusing in its crucible” (299). This concept of the nation being born on the frontier is a common figure of speech that occurs in Frederick Jackson Turner’s frontier thesis and also in Julian Ralph’s On Canada’s Frontier. What exact nation Cameron is referring to here is not entirely clear. It would seem that she refers to Canadian identity; however, the birth of the nation that she refers to coincides with an influx of Americans and what Cameron conceives essentially as the dissolution of the Canadian/American border. In this light, the birth in question involves intercontinental western imperialism. Her allusion to race here also echoes Turner’s idea of the west as a site in which all races fuse into a new American identity. Despite the pluralistic undertones of this image, the focus on racial assimilation here   200   emphasizes an idea of Anglo-Saxon cultural identity. Her image of witnessing or Seeing/Knowing this birth as opposed to creating or navigating it again portrays Cameron as someone who chronicles this imperialist expansion into the north, rather than simply endorsing or enacting it. The metaphor of birth is also striking considering her speaking position as a woman, especially in light of the passage in which she gives her name to a Cree baby. Cameron’s detachment from this figurative birth on the frontier as a female witness de-familiarizes this metaphor. Her personal ambivalence to such stereotypes of femininity signals a wider ambivalence toward the gendered discourses underlying imperialism itself. We see this further in her sense of de-familiarization in naming the child. Rather than simply imposing her name on the infant, she captures the ironic and startling contrast between her own name and the real identity of the child as if poking fun at the conceit of naming behind the imperial process, and refusing to identify with its stereotypes of gender and race. Cameron uses the melting pot metaphor rather uncritically at the beginning and ending of her text in what is clearly an attempt to voice American expansionist rhetoric on behalf of the immigration association for which she worked in Chicago. She envisions a mass of immigrants heading to “Western Canada’s melting-pot, drawn by that strongest of lures—the lure of the land” (7). Here she views immigration and development in the west as a Large Moving Object/External Event. The idea of being lured by the land suggests that the Force/Causal agency of the Movement/Change is natural and inevitable. The image of the melting pot offers a Bounded Location to represent a new State of self created on the frontier and indicates that this new State of cultural identity is an inevitable part of cultural Movement/Change. Cameron’s curiosity about “the new Canadian who will step out” (299) near the end of the text offers just a hint of the anti- imperialist skepticism that runs throughout the book. Her own sensationalist appropriation of   201   masculine roles on the frontier means that we cannot read this line at the end of the book without recognizing Cameron herself, and the iconoclastic images of her throughout the text as a prime example of the “new Canadian” in question. The new cultural identity, Cameron suggests, is not as homogenous or traditional as one might expect. However, this new and more progressive incarnation of cultural progress remains firmly couched in the expansionist rhetoric of assimilation. Another common metaphor that Cameron uses to discuss the frontier is that of a book. This metaphor is used by Frederick Jackson Turner himself to describe westward expansion as pages turning in the narrative of the nation. Sure enough, at the end of The New North, Cameron uses the metaphor to allude to American frontier myths. Encouraging Canadians to embrace westward expansion and immigration, she advises her readers to “learn [a] lesson from a page torn out of [their] neighbour’s book” (300). This comparison between the land and books marks an interesting parallel between the physical expansion of the frontier and the physical documentation of such expansion through literary texts. Cameron suggests that this process is essential in order to “learn what to follow and what to avoid” (300). She explicitly suggests that the books that these two countries are reading record the Movement/Change of the two nations. The cultural experience of the frontier is inextricable not only from the material bodies of travellers, but also from the material archive of the text that names, documents, and witnesses such expansion. The common idiom of tearing a page out of your neighbour’s book hints at a kind of literary inter-textuality across the border that seems to parallel the miscegenation and assimilation of cross-border frontier expansion. The Knowing is Seeing metaphor occurs in this image of one nation reading from another’s book. To See/Know this American book suggests a process of imitating American frontier expansion both culturally and materially. The visceral image of the two countries as   202   bodies who must look at each other and at each other’s texts makes a connection between the body and the text. To Know frontier expansion one must See it and this material knowledge occurs through the body and through the text. Cameron suggests an ongoing process of recording the body of the traveller and reliving the material records of travelling bodies. Cameron’s use of photography sets her apart from the previous authors discussed in this dissertation and raises interesting questions about how to interpret the photography of female frontier revival authors.120 At the turn of the century, photography began to change the face of travel writing due to its heightened promise of objectively and reliably representing the first hand perspectives of travel writers. As Roy points out, Cameron uses Kodak cameras (which first appeared in 1888) and an Underwood typewriter to appeal to “the traveller’s conventional claim to be first, a claim that she enlarged to include the sometimes complementary and sometimes contradictory categories of gender, geography, ethnography, and nationalism” (54).121 Publications such as National Geographic fostered a North American cultural climate in which “visualizing a culture or place became synonymous for actually being there” (Bloom 60) and visual images promoted American imperialist goals (60-61). Photography also played a prominent role in representing western frontier settings and expressing “Euro-American entitlement to the frontier” (Williams 9). For Cameron, the stakes of her photographs were high as she knowingly entered into this larger climate of wilderness photography because she had to use discourses of photographic authenticity and objectivity to prove her credibility as a travel writer, and as a woman traveller. The illusion of objectivity in ethnographic photojournalism at the time was connected to a deeper denial of the cultural agendas and biases of photographers and their audiences because photography offered a short hand means to Sight/Knowledge.122 As Bloom points out, popular ethnographic photography such as the material in National Geographic   203   was presented to readers as a democratizing medium that provided geographical information to average people outside of elitist circles of scientists, academics, or travel writers (61). Cameron’s insistence on first hand knowledge throughout the book, in combination with the often casual and humourous nature of her photographs, and the seemingly genuine human connection that she appears to forge with her subjects, indicate her appeal to this more populist approach to photography as a democratizing medium. Rather than feigning a sense of empiricism, she also seems to be aware throughout her book, most explicitly in her incongruous appearance in several photographs, of the subjectivity of her own perspective. While Cameron insists on the reliability of first hand knowledge, she repeatedly emphasizes the ultimate indeterminacy of Sight/Knowledge so as to convey a paradoxical idea of self-reflexive subjectivity that is more reliable than empirical approaches to travel writing. It is difficult to say with certainty to what extent the complexity of Cameron’s use of photography reflects her social justice interests or other concerns that she may have had to deal with, such as the need to soften or justify her role as a female traveller. Barthes reminds us that “the reading of the photograph is . . . always historical” (28) and it is important to remember that Cameron’s role as an outspoken and iconoclastic female travel writer both appealed to her reader’s identification with imperialist discourse, while also challenging their assumptions about ideas of gender and race within that discourse. A striking feature of Cameron’s work is her overall avoidance of what Wexler refers to as “the innocent eye” (6) of American female photojournalists at the turn of the twentieth century. In Tender Violence, Wexler explains that such women employed a photographic gaze of domestic neutrality “attributed to them by white domestic sentiment” to create “images that were, in turn, a constitutive element of the social relations of United States imperialism during the era’s annexation and consolidation of colonies” (6). What is so interesting about Cameron’s   204   photographs, and what perhaps helps to explain why she has fallen through the cracks of literary history, is that she avoids this more socially acceptable “innocent” (Wexler 6) female gaze that glosses over the violence and conflict of imperialist expansion. In stark contrast with Gallatin’s dainty, fashionable illustrations, Cameron’s photographs have an almost gruesome, stark quality. The blurring of gender and race in her photographs, along with her use of unconventional poses, facial expressions, and scenarios make it difficult to interpret her work as without conflict, complexity, and social criticism. As Roy observes, Cameron’s use of photography “shows her as someone who included among her claims to uniqueness the fact that she challenged strictures about the appearance and behaviour of a woman traveller” (58). Cameron’s exuberant use of photographs to emphasize the importance of first-hand perspectives appeals to the thirst for photography as a way of backing up the authenticity and cultural authority of travel writers. However, in all her photographs, her own female body seems to disrupt such claims to objective Sight/Knowledge. She connects ideas of photographic authenticity to the subjectivity and changeableness of ideas of gender, race, and nationality. Rather than hiding behind the camera so as to tap into an illusion of authorial objectivity and cultural control, Cameron puts her own incongruous body front and centre to force her readers to look more closely at the complexities of such categories of identity. Cameron also plays with this metaphor of the country as a text through photography and in visual references to herself in iconoclastic authorial roles. For instance, she hints at the struggle to make the reader See/Know her experience in the north in phrases such as “let me try to give you the picture” (257). Cameron’s focus on photography is probably the most striking aspect of The New North because of the number of dramatic portraits of the author herself in odd and sometimes shocking poses, such as the picture of Cameron holding a severed moose head (See Fig 5.2).   205   These photographs, along with Cameron’s self-conscious fixation on guiding the reader’s Sight/Knowledge, constantly remind us that she brings a sensationalist new female body and text to the reader, and one that is captured with the new means of photography in a way that is much more stark than the lady-like illustrations of writers such as Duncan, Taylor, and Gallatin. The body that Cameron brings to the reader is disorderly and provocative. She is masculine in build and dress and in the poses she assumes, and she appears in several photos to stare out at the reader in an almost confrontational, haughty manner. By confidently taking on masculine poses (such as a photograph of her in silhouette, wearing a Mountie style hat outside a Hudson Bay Company fort), she represents a sense of imperialist masculine authority. However, Cameron plays up the novelty of her gender at every turn in photographs such as the graphic portrait with the moose head. The newness of Cameron’s body relates not merely to her femininity in masculine roles, but the jarring and somewhat graphic representation of the ambiguity of such roles. Cameron’s wry expression, along with statements such as the above that imply her manipulation of the Sight/Knowledge of the reader, show that it is impossible to distinguish between masculinity and femininity. The newness that Cameron evokes through these photographs lies in a jarring juxtaposition between the literalness of photography and the utter ambiguity of her gender identity in the north. Cameron uses the ambiguity of her gender identity in photographs to de-familiarize readers’ assumptions about imperialism and race. One of the most striking photographs is that of Cameron sitting next to an Aboriginal woman whose traumatic story of cannibalism due to extreme hunger Cameron recounts to the reader (See Fig 5.3). Cameron’s sympathetic portrait of the woman presents the social realities of hunger and poverty in contrast with southern racist assumptions surrounding Wendigo myths. In the photograph, Cameron sits next to the woman in what could   206   be read as a position of authority. She is taller in stature than the woman and stares knowingly at the camera, reminding us of the ethnographic lens through which Aboriginal people become visible in adventure literature. However, her demeanour is one of warmth and humour and they sit together on the steps of a building in what appears to be a moment of casual personal exchange. Her mountie hat is even placed on the woman’s lap as if to openly challenge readers’ racist assumptions. Addressing the reader, Cameron again guides how we see the picture, exclaiming, “Louise the Cannibal! When we look on our joint picture, it might be somewhat difficult to distinguish the writer from the Indian woman. She is ‘even as you and me’” (282-3). The extreme visual gender ambiguity with which Cameron confronts the reader in her photographs parallels the racial ambiguity that she would have us acknowledge between herself and Aboriginal inhabitants of the north. This image of the two women looking at the picture together and not being able to distinguish each other reminds us that our ability to See/Know race is limited even in the supposedly objective medium of photography. Seeing the body and the text is a crucial material accompaniment to how we Know, but neither Seeing nor Knowing can ever be definitive. Cameron reminds us that the body is a text that cannot be read in a fixed way according to either gender or race. Cameron makes many allusions to other texts within her book so as to further complicate the reader’s identification with the travel narrative. At one post, she states, “we come across an HB Journal of the vintage of 1826 where the reckless scribe introduces two Thursdays into one week. Acknowledging his error in a footnote with the remark, ‘It is not likely that the eye of man will ever read this record’” (245-6). The common idiom, “the eye of man” evokes the Seeing/Knowing metaphor to refer to literature as a material means of accessing abstract cultural knowledge. The H.B.C. author’s assurance that his mistake does not matter because it will not be seen makes the   207   assumption that the more a piece of text is literally read and shared amongst the public, the more cultural influence it has. By sharing this text with the public, Cameron reminds us of her authority as a travel writer in gaining physical access to places and texts on her journey and enhancing cultural knowledge. She conveys the novelty of her position as a female writer in her allusion to “the eyes of man” by reminding us that her perspective (that of a female adventure traveller) is so lacking in precedent that it was not foreseen as a possibility by the original author. Cameron’s sharing of this piece of historical information subtly pokes fun at the supposedly objective, imperialist discourse of the H.B.C. records. Her unique body and perspective as a female traveller brings a different kind of Sight/Knowledge to more traditional representations of northern Canada. On several occasions, Cameron goes so far as to challenge dictionary and textbook definitions of the north. For instance, in Fort Good Hope she remarks that “looking around the walls of the ‘homey’ room we wonder if this really can be the ‘Arctic Circle, 23 ½ [degrees] from the North Pole, which marks the distance that the sun’s rays.’ etc., etc., as the little geographies so blithely used to state” (161). This objective-sounding textbook definition offers a spatial and geographical image with which to understand the north. It creates a mental image by which readers see and know the place. However, Cameron suggests the importance of ultimately seeing a place for oneself, reminding us that the physical act of seeing is ultimately subjective and open for continual interpretation and debate. She warns of the biases that underlie seemingly empirical forms of knowledge that are imposed on the north through political, literary and educational texts. Cameron reminds the reader that different understandings of space correspond with different ways of knowing in her more personal, subjective, and female-oriented description of the Arctic as “homey.” By conceiving of the Arctic as a domestic, Bounded Location/State, in which she feels a sense of comfort and belonging, she draws on the SC and LS metaphors to associate the place   208   with a normal or familiar Location/State. In contrast, the textbook evokes a Bounded Location/State that Cameron implies is restrictive and inaccurate in its representation of the place. She uses the OS metaphor in her description of the textbook definition as a kind of imperialist map that is imposed upon the place. Cameron’s alternative use of this metaphor of the home in opposition to the textbook conveys a Bounded Location/State that reflects both a distinctly female perspective on the frontier and also a rejection of more masculinist ways of seeing, mapping, and defining the north. Cameron tends to subvert many of the metaphors of movement that she uses on the surface to justify expansion into the west. In Arctic Red River, she imagines speaking to local Inuit people, lamenting, “my best wish for you is that civilisation may never reach you” (174). Once again, movement across the frontier represents a cultural passage through time with the assumption that increased industrialization and development of frontier territories coincide with cultural improvement and progress. As with her previous metaphors of frontier expansion, Cameron portrays the movement of “civilization” as a Large Moving Object/External Event with its own Force/Causal agency that she participates in with critical distance. Cameron’s wish that civilization not reach the Inuit is ironic in different ways. First of all, her questioning of the Destination/Goal of frontier expansion suggests that such expansion may not be as synonymous with a kind of natural cultural progress as it seems. Furthermore, Cameron’s presence in the Arctic demonstrates that she herself is part of the imperialist encounter between Anglo-Saxon travellers and Inuit people. She adds, “this intrusion of the whites has changed the whole horizon here; we can scarcely call it the coming of civilization” (175). This idea of changing the horizon evokes the OS metaphor and associates the Movement/Change of frontier expansion with the celebrated process of pushing boundaries in adventure literature. However, her use of the word,   209   “intrusion” and her objectification of outsiders as “the whites” suggest that she attempts to speak on behalf of those who are on the opposite side of Anglo-Saxon expansion. She represents the north as a Bounded Location/State that is disturbed by frontier expansion. Her hesitation to “call it the coming of civilization” (175) questions the way ideas of civilization have been defined as movement, and reminds us that while movement may connote change, such Movement/Change does not necessarily represent progress. Cameron skillfully acknowledges this underlying conceptual metaphor of Movement/Change, while also separating it from distinctly cultural and imperialist ideas of progress. Cameron also characterizes her own struggle to understand the north as a kind of physical battle to overcome the legacy of imperialist perceptions of the Arctic in travel literature. Like Duncan and Taylor, she experiences a conflict on the frontier that occurs ironically with frontier mythology itself. For instance, in wondering how to classify Inuit people according to what she sees as questionable ideas of “civilisation” (210), Cameron declares, “these are the questions that confront us when we speak of these farthest north Canadians” (210). In Metaphors We Live By, Lakoff and Johnson discuss the metaphor “argument is war,” which connects ideas of verbal debate with physical confrontation (5-6). They also note that while this metaphor stems from universal bodily experience, its emergence and popularity in language reflect a distinctly western idea of debate as physical confrontation (5-6). Cameron’s use of this metaphor draws on the important connection between language and violence in western literature. More specifically, the concept of a violent struggle on the frontier through Obstacles/Impediments is central to the abstract idea of cultural redemption through imperialist conquest in the masculine heroic paradigm of frontier revival literature. Cameron evokes this paradigm to gain credibility in describing her very opposition and conflict with it. Rather than combating the Inuit, she is fighting the ideas of   210   her own male peers. To be confronted by the questions of one’s own cultural background evokes a mirroring process. She reminds us that the ideas one imposes upon the land are like projections that reflect back upon the speaker. This internalized physical struggle suggests that travel literature represents a conflict in the Bounded Location/State of the body and mind of the traveller. While certain texts by male authors, such as Hamlin Garland’s The Trail of the Goldseekers, address these tensions to a degree, Cameron is more emphatic and striking in her portrayal of them. As a woman, she is already marginalized from the dominant culture that she represents, and she registers these tensions more personally and nowhere more visibly than through the disorderly medium of the female travelling body. Cameron reverses the imperialist gaze to criticize her own cultural background. She admits that “the stumbling-block in this honest search for a tag to put on my people is the term ‘civilization’” (211). Once again, she represents her physical and intellectual struggle in the north as occurring with her own cultural background. Her Destination/Goal of classifying her own “people” recognizes that in naming the north, one is essentially naming oneself. As James Doyle observes in North of America, ethnographic writing or travel literature usually becomes a kind of cultural self-portrait of the author and his or her background (3). This cultural self-portrait is complicated when the female traveller cannot see herself in the ideas of civilization that she is meant to project onto the north. Cameron’s tendency to sarcastically quote textbook and dictionary definitions contrasts throughout the text with photographic self-portraits that seem to defy previous modes of representation. More mysterious than the north itself becomes the idea of her own culture, a culture in which she gains credibility through her masculine and confrontational personae, but which she also deliberately distorts through the ambiguity of such personae.   211   Cameron’s use of these metaphors of conflict gain access to masculine paradigms of imperialist adventure and ironically wage war on the exclusionary and inaccurate nature of these paradigms. Throughout the text, Cameron’s main alternative to falsely objective perspectives on the north is to experience the north subjectively and to be open to other perspectives on the place. As she approaches Lake Athabaska, she comments, “we speak only of what we observe from the deck of a boat as we pass down this wonderful river. What is hidden is a richer story which only the coming of the railroad can bring to light” (71). There are three different kinds of movement in this image—that of the river, the industrialized mechanisms of expansion including the boat and the railroad, and the implied self-reflexive image of the turning pages of a story book. Accordingly, there are different ideas of change—that of the natural locale itself through the form of the river, the more cultural “intrusion” of adventure travellers and immigrants on the boat, and the ideas of cultural progress associated with natural evolution and the advancement of Anglo- Saxon culture in adventure texts. Cameron’s physical positioning on the edges of the boat and the river reminds us of her critical distance from the imperialist agenda of such texts. As well, the image of the story of development in the north as hidden portrays Cameron’s limited Sight/Knowledge of her authorial perspective on her surroundings. Her focus on such limitations emphasizes the inability for literature to fully represent the Movement/Change of the north or to categorize such Movement/Change as divinely ordained. This image of the story as hidden in the landscape but revealed by the railroad and its corresponding frontier expansion suggests that the reality of the place itself is a complex interaction between the environment, the inhabitants, and outside cultural influences that can never fully be captured. What is so interesting about Cameron is her embrace of the fallibility of her perspective. In fact, her enthusiasm about this peripheral   212   and limited view suggests that this subjective way of experiencing travel and the north and ideas of cultural Movement/Change is a more truthful and perhaps more modern perspective. Like Gallatin, Cameron describes physical sensation as a more truthful and openly subjective way of experiencing the frontier in her statement, “[a]s we pass in silence we can but look and feel” (159). This image of “pass[ing] in silence” (159) again represents their Movement/Change through the wilderness as peripheral to the more dominant imperialist trajectory of frontier expansion—the typical “intrusion” of foreigners. Her silence evokes the ARGUMENT IS WAR metaphor and reminds us of her own lack of voice within the imperialist culture that she represents, as well as a deference to the alternative cultural traditions of people who inhabit the north. Her emphasis on “look[ing]” and “feel[ing]” as the best ways to represent the landscape reminds the reader that knowledge stems from the physical capacities of sight and touch. Furthermore, she draws attention to the inevitable subjectivity, and yet universality, of personal experience and sensation that informs one’s knowledge. This is a direct contradiction to the textbook objectivity that Gallatin sees as marginalizing the north, and which obviously marginalizes women authors as well. Like Gallatin, Cameron uses a sensationalist and personalized focus on the female body as a paradigm for more self-reflexive understandings of frontier expansion and corresponding ideas of cultural progress. 5.4 Conclusion While Duncan and Taylor inflect their work with political undertones, Gallatin and Cameron are more explicit in their questioning of the imperialist legacy of frontier revival literature. Their concern with issues of women’s rights and the perspectives of Aboriginal populations are more at   213   the forefront of these texts. Also at the forefront is the female body in vivid illustrations and photographs. Gallatin and Cameron develop strong, personalized personae and confront the reader both in tone and in provocative images of themselves. Gallatin goes so far as to structure her text as a guide to encourage increased physical and social freedom for women. While Cameron’s text adheres more to the expansionist rhetoric of her day, she offers outspoken critiques of imperialist attitudes, and encourages more open minded attitudes toward gender and ethnicity. Combining the shock value of sensationalist journalism and dime store novels, Cameron’s and Gallatin’s work builds upon certain aspects of Duncan’s and Taylor’s texts in key ways. They are at once more honestly autobiographical—provocative, challenging, and political in their explicit and outspoken discussions of gender and ethnicity, and in their questioning of imperialist masculine paradigms—and also more literary in their use of inter-textual references and a highly self-conscious use of literary iconography. Fixated on physical descriptions of the female body, these texts bring the body to the forefront of the discussion as the medium through which to live and relive imperialist rhetoric about cultural progress. The subject of these texts is no longer ostensibly the charting of geographical territories, but rather the interaction between real women’s lives and the kinds of iconography and cultural ideas about citizenship and progress they must read and perform on a daily basis. They guide their readers on how to access the personae through which debates about cultural progress are acted out. Cameron and Gallatin focus on the body in several key ways. They speak directly to their audience in a visceral manner as though they are literally guiding the reader through the text and they offer models of physical behaviour from which the reader can learn. They also both emphasize the metaphorical tensions related to Movement/Change in between, through, and at the   214   edge of Bounded Location/States. Recurring images of liminality and the process of shifting between spaces emphasize that states of self are subjective and changeable. Cameron and Gallatin remind us that women travellers do not fit easily into any subject position. Both authors celebrate this ambiguity and present it as a powerful alternative perspective on what they reveal to be falsely objective ideas of cultural identity in frontier revival literature. They portray their struggle with masculine paradigms of travel through their physical hardship on the trail and they offer new paradigms of female movement in the wilderness. Gallatin focusses on new ways of mastering one’s individual body and interacting with increased control in relation to one’s environment. Cameron describes herself in physical conflict with official versions of the north and describes her continual effort to See/Know the place for herself. One of the main ways these authors offer a more subjective and self-reflexive approach to their subject matter is through their shared focus on physical sensation. Experiencing their surroundings through the framework of their senses personalizes their experience through the body itself. They remind us that our knowledge occurs through the lens of the body and that the familiar paradigms of adventure and cultural progress stem from the white male body. They self- reflexively adopt both stereotypically masculine and feminine traits in their physical descriptions and illustrations. The repeated placement of their female bodies in iconoclastic scenarios provokes, teases, and shocks the reader into thinking of ways to experience and thus to know frontier regions from different perspectives. Guiding their readers in the vocabulary of the body, they offer the means to re-experience and re-imagine one’s place in society—to reshape the terms of cultural identity and belonging.   215   5.5 Notes to Chapter 5                                                                                                                   110 In his forward to Philippe Lejeune’s On Autobiography, Paul John Eakin interprets Lejeune’s idea of the autobiographical pact as an understanding between the author and the reader that despite the performativity of identity and autobiography, an autobiography is still rooted in factual, real world events (ix). 111 I use this term a few times in my dissertation as a reference to Pierre Bourdieu’s discussion of cultural capital that he outlines in The Field of Cultural Production. 112 Palmer writes that “novels of sensationalists and ‘new women’ writers were both focal points for and embodiments of contemporary gender anxieties” (160). For further discussions of sensation fiction see Jones’s Problem Novels: Victorian Fiction Theorizes the Sensational Self and Talairach-Vielmas’ Moulding the Female Body in Victorian Fairy Tales and Sensation Novels. 113 Undergoing a transformation on the trail is something that occurs throughout texts by male authors. However, female frontier revival writers describe this transformation on more personal terms and sometimes describe it as a more conflicted struggle. This has a lot to do with the fact that they are battling so many gender stereotypes on the trail in addition to the standard physical challenges of wilderness travel and the symbolic struggle of proving oneself on behalf of specific ideas of cultural progress that male authors describe. In foregrounding their often conflicted personal struggles on the trail, female authors also show more ambivalence toward dominant discourses of westward expansion with which male authors tend to identify seamlessly. Of course, certain male authors, such as Hamlin Garland are critical of the underlying imperialism of westward expansion. However, despite Garland’s critique of imperialism, he avoids focussing on the personal struggle of his journey. It is worth noting that female authors’ critique of the   216                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         underlying attitudes of frontier adventure literature is felt and lived much more viscerally and immediately through the personal struggle of their individual bodies. Despite Garland’s more theoretical and poetic critique of the gold rush, he still has the privilege of somehow embodying the ideals of the journey. In comparison, the foregrounding of the personal struggle of the female body in women’s texts represents the stakes of their journey and of their critique of imperialism as somehow much higher. In other words, they do not just use the frame as a vehicle for criticism, but rather struggle with the very terms of the frame itself. 114 I see these complex metaphors as stemming from the underlying SC metaphor and ultimately contrasting with the OS metaphor in which self-control through perspective occurs outside of a contained space. Sweetser studies how conceptual metaphors relate to each other in her article, “‘The Suburbs of Your Good Pleasure:’ Cognition, culture and the Bases of Metaphoric Structure” (26). She identifies models of self based on interacting metaphors. For instance, she points out that the domain of containment includes the metaphor ESSENTIAL IS CENTRAL (28). Ideas of social inclusion as containment can be seen as stemming from this more primary metaphor. 115 In Philosophy in the Flesh, Lakoff and Johnson cite the expressions “hold your horses” or “hold a tight reign” as examples of highly common ways of referring to external events (193). In the same text, they also discuss Johnson’s concept of conflation, in which source domains and target domains become so synonymous in our minds that we forget that this connection is metaphorical (46). Idioms such as “to take the reins” are a prime example of metaphorical expressions that are so incorporated into everyday use that the connection between the physical action (of grabbing reins) and the abstract idea (of taking control) become synonymous in the public imagination. We forget that these expressions are metaphorical. By using such idioms from a startling female perspective, these authors make the reader aware of the metaphoricity of   217                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         their everyday language. Consequently, we become aware not only of how our bodily and material lives affect our ways of thinking, but also of how cultural attitudes about the body relating to gender and ethnicity inform conceptual metaphors and the way they occur in our daily lives and speech. 116 Pazdro explains that Cameron spoke out about several controversial issues throughout her career in the education system. She was against teaching domestic science in the classroom (107) and also publically argued against disparities between the salaries of male and female teachers (Pazdro 108) and age discrimination in the school system (Pazdro 109). She and another female teacher were suspended from their jobs in 1901 for allegedly going against their superiors by refusing to conduct oral instead of written exams (109). However, Pazdro notes that the man who filed a complaint against her was explicitly opposed to women principals and to her personally (109). The superintendent who suspended them openly admitted to making an example of them (109). As Pazdro, explains, given that Cameron and her female colleague were the only female principals in the city, it is likely that their suspension was at least partly fueled by misogynist attitudes toward women teachers and principals (109). She also notes that in 1905, Cameron lost her job over a minor infraction involving letting a student use a ruler during a test (Pazdro 113). After a public outcry in support of Cameron, a two month inquiry took place that ultimately ruled against her (Pazdro 114). Pazdro observes that the inquiry proceedings, “bordering on the ridiculous,” were part of an ongoing discriminatory process of forcing Cameron out of her job (114). 117 In my article, “Seeing For Oneself: Agnes Deans Cameron’s Ironic Critique of American Literary Discourse in The New North,” I explore in more depth how Cameron develops specific   218                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         American discourses of Canada as a last frontier in order to challenge ideas about gender, ethnicity, and imperialism. 118 Wendy Roy argues that Cameron’s tendency to not refer to her niece directly creates the impression of a royal “we” (57). 119 It seems that Cameron is referring to his wintering over site before he set out on his 1793 journey. 120 I discuss photography in greater depth in Chapter 6. 121 Roy notes that “[t]ravellers have traditionally enforced claims both to primacy and to uniqueness through technologies of representation and communication that include diaries, maps, and illustrations” (54). It is important to be aware of how new technological advancements in photography influenced the writing of female travellers who would have been more dependent on proving themselves according to such technology, while also more vulnerable to having their appearances judged by readers and potential publishers. 122 In On Photography, Susan Sontag argues that “[c]ameras define reality in the two ways essential to the workings of an advanced industrial society: as a spectacle (for the masses) and as an object of surveillance (for rulers). The production of images also furnishes a ruling ideology. Social change is replaced by change in images” (Qtd. in Wexler 5). The paradox that Sontag identifies here lies in the way that images, which often appear to democratize knowledge and access to information, also distract people from social realities and are, despite seeming neutral or lacking in cultural bias, often monitored and used by those in power to control and exploit those who are not.     219   6 Hunters of Peace: Mary Schäffer’s Old Indian Trails (1911) and Agnes Laut’s Enchanted Trails of Glacier Park (1926) 6.1 Introduction In this chapter, I address two authors who usher in a final phase of women’s frontier revival literature—Mary Schäffer (1861-1939) and Agnes Laut (1871-1936). Despite the fact that Mary Schäffer’s Old Indian Trails (1911) and Agnes Laut’s Enchanted Trails of Glacier Park (1926) emerge only one or two decades after Gallatin’s and Cameron’s texts, the differences in their approach signal the vast amount of social change for women at the turn of the twentieth century. Both authors, Laut especially, describe their female perspectives on the wilderness with notably more confidence and ease than the earlier women writers in a way that reflects the rapid and ongoing advances for women at the time, including suffrage and increased entry in the labour force. In a cultural climate of industrialization, urbanization, and militarization, combined with the heightened popularity of wilderness movements and organizations, frontier revival literature was, more than ever, a barometer for ideas about cultural identity, progress, and citizenship.123 The increased participation and visibility of women in wilderness writing and wilderness organizations such as the camp-fire girls, conservation movements, and alpine clubs reflected advancements in women’s causes. However, women’s increased participation in wilderness culture at the time also took on an even more interesting and telling facet of social mobility that emerged in the later frontier revival literature of Schäffer and Laut—the ability to enter into more public dialogues not only about gender, but also about issues more tangentially related, or even seemingly unrelated, to being a woman. The ability to speak as a woman about bigger debates on   220   cultural identity is, in the case of these writers, a kind of logical progression from the struggles of earlier women writers to speak about being a woman. This newer ability to speak for the whole— to present the illusion of cultural objectivity and neutrality—is a legacy taken for granted by male frontier revival authors and wrestled with by earlier female frontier revival writers. Both Schäffer and Laut show an increased level of comfort in their ability to speak as women—to address their gendered perspective with more frankness, to relate their gendered perspective to wider, more intersecting social issues, and also to downplay, or attempt to transcend the discussion of gender in their treatment of issues relating to race, ethnicity, development, and conservation. The body remains at the centre of these texts, but in a way that links the struggle for gender equality with these other issues. Both authors build on earlier women writers’ engagement with iconic physical motifs of frontier revival literature. They develop these motifs by describing themselves as pushing the horizons of female experience and navigating intercontinental Movement/Change, by identifying the landscape with idealized female-friendly Bounded Locations/States, and by self-reflexively shifting between different Bounded Locations/States. Female perspectives on the frontier revival motifs become a familiar short hand in the later texts of Schäffer and Laut. Rather than focussing on women’s issues either explicitly, or by sensationalizing their own struggle for confidence on the frontier, they both use this shorthand in connection to bigger issues relating to conservation and Aboriginal rights. In particular, both authors are preoccupied with the diverse ways of Seeing/Knowing the frontier, and they relate the complexities of their subject positions as women travellers to the wider complexities of the frontier. They suggest that such complexities are crucial to recognize in the face of simplistic and biased cultural representations of western regions that support and gloss over the large-scale destruction of natural resources and Aboriginal cultures. They convey and extend the complexity   221   of their perspectives through photography, allusions to art, and representations of their changing points of view. By extending their gendered use of frontier motifs to bigger issues of cultural identity, Schäffer and Laut question the underlying violence and exploitation of imperialist attitudes toward the frontier and encourage more inclusive and social justice oriented perspectives on cultural progress. 6.2 Schäffer The significant amount of biographical information available about Schäffer’s life testifies to her ongoing recognition as a travel writer, artist, and photographer and sheds light on her active participation in frontier revival literature. Born in Philadelphia to a Quaker family, Schäffer was fixated on ideas of the west from an early age (E.J. Hart 3). This early fascination, along with the literary tendencies of her family (E.J. Hart 10) and her own familiarity with wilderness literature of her day (Beck 88), indicate her informed engagement with eastern representations of cross- border western settings. In 1889, Schäffer took the C.P.R. trip from Montreal to Vancouver, where she met medical doctor and botanist Dr. Charles Schäffer, whom she married upon returning to Philadelphia (E.J. Hart 5). Notably, Schäffer was trained by George Lambden, a famous American flower artist (E.J. Hart 6). She also developed significant photography skills, creating her own photographic techniques for representing specimens (Birkett 53; E.J. Hart 6). In fact, in 1900 several of her photographs were included in a Paris exhibition of work by American women photographers (Birkett 54). Like Gallatin, she used her skill as an artist to assist her husband in his work over years of botanical excursions in national parks throughout the Canadian Rockies (E.J. Hart 5-6) and to pay tribute to him after his death in 1893 by returning to the   222   Rockies to finish his work (E.J. Hart 6), which led to the publication of Alpine Flora of the Canadian Rocky Mountains (E.J. Hart 9). In fact, after the death of her husband, Schäffer began her considerable publishing career, which included writing articles in a range of magazines from Rod and Gun (Montreal and Toronto), The Bulletin of the Geographical Society of Philadelphia (Philadelphia) to The Canadian Alpine Journal (Banff), which culminated with Old Indian Trails, the account of her 1908 trip to the Rockies with female companion Mollie Adams and two male guides. Positive reviews of Old Indian Trails (Beck 89; E.J. Hart 11) confirm her skilful engagement in literary discourses of her time. The success of her lectures in Philadelphia based on her travels (C. Smith 63) shows her involvement in eastern cultural interests in western Canada. The range of publications about Schäffer demonstrates her ongoing relevance in the fields of women’s literature and wilderness writing. She has been the subject of a novel124 and theatrical productions,125 various non-academic biographies (Beck; Foran), anecdotes in studies of female travellers (MacFarlane; Skidmore), and feminist, postcolonial, and art history analysis (Lippard; MacFarlane). She also remains one of the few women in this dissertation whose name tends to ring a bell across a wider spectrum of non-academic and academic readers. The small pressed wildflower in the century-old copy of Old Indian Trails that is held in storage at the UBC library is a small reminder of her longstanding presence in the peripheral consciousness of the Canadian reading public. It is tempting to discuss Schäffer as a feminist wilderness icon; however, the novelty of her role as female traveller has been exaggerated in many responses to her work. Biographical discussions of her life have contributed to her legacy as a Canadian folk heroine, despite her original American and British heritage. This is partly because of the admittedly dramatic arc of her life story, including her transition from a young eastern traveller assisting her   223   husband to a seasoned traveller in the west and successful wilderness literary figure in her own right, her second marriage to her much younger guide, Billy Warren, and her final permanent residency in Banff. One of the texts that has consolidated her place in Canadian history is the 1980 reprint of Old Indian Trails, published by the Whyte Museum of the Canadian Rockies and partly funded by the Alberta 75th Anniversary Commission. The text is edited by historian and archivist E.J. Hart, and Hart’s informative biographical introduction describes Schäffer as a local icon. The text takes significant liberties with Schäffer’s original publication and seems to be geared more toward a non-academic readership. Many of Schäffer’s photos from the archives have been added to the book in a way that sensationalizes images of her female body in the wilderness with very little editorial commentary on the changes that have been made. The inclusion of these images emphasizes Schäffer’s awareness of the novelty and significance of images of the female travelling body. However, the unexplained inclusion of these images, and E.J. Hart’s romanticized portrait of her “spirit and pluck in venturing into that wilderness” (E.J. Hart 14), simultaneously exaggerate and gloss over Schäffer’s gendered perspective on her surroundings. This focus on the novelty of Schäffer’s eastern travelling body conceals the nuances of her perspective on the wilderness and only begins to provide clues as to the meaning of her work and to the breadth of her perspective on the wilderness that waits to be rediscovered in her text. The range of scholarly responses to Schäffer’s work indicates the difficulties writers have in trying to place her into aesthetic and ideological categories. Scholars see her as challenging imperialist concepts of race and gender through her complex interest in the perspectives of women and Aboriginal people (Lippard; MacFarlane). However, Schäffer’s disinterest in suffragists has also been pointed out (Beck 135), as have her contradictory tendencies to both critique and uphold   224   imperialist assumptions (Beck 130; MacFarlane 147-48). More consistent aspects of her work include her frequent engagement in wilderness issues of her time and her promotion of conservationist values.126 As in biographical treatments of her work, scholarly work on Schäffer is often dominated by a focus on her life story or on abstract theoretical ideas about empire, gender, and race. What tends to be missing in these studies is an examination of specific literary techniques that she employs in her text. While I also identify Schäffer as a feminist figure in her own right, I see her feminism as characterized by the very understated quality of her allusions to women’s issues through the female body. The subtlety of her treatment of social justice issues can only be understood through a close reading of the body metaphors that she inherits from previous female frontier revival authors and extends to an interest in Aboriginal cultures and wilderness conservation. Schäffer’s use of photography remains one of the most interesting aspects of the original text of Old Indian Trails and has garnered the most compelling responses to her work. Her extensive training and experience in visual art culminates in her passion for photography on the trail and the success of her photographs. She moves beyond the sometimes grim sensationalism of Agnes Deans Cameron’s use of photography in The New North. Compared to the more recent 1980 edition, the original 1911 version of the text contains only black and white photographs with less of an emphasis on human figures. The majority of the photographs in the original text are examples of Schäffer’s skillful, documentary style of nature photography. The few photographs that she includes of human figures carry more weight in the original text and offer subtle glimpses into her gendered perspective on the landscape. Just as Susan Sontag challenges the illusion of objectivity in photography, scholars of exploration literature point out how photography in North American wilderness regions at the turn of the twentieth century was not the “benign tool of   225   observation” (Williams 4) that it may have seemed, but was rather a means of supporting imperialist discourses about expansion in northern (Bloom 60-61) and western regions (Williams 5) of North America. Lucy Lippard interprets Schäffer’s photography as offering a “sympathetic” lens on Aboriginal people without falling into noble savage stereotypes (416). More skeptical in her reading, Lisa MacFarlane argues that Schäffer’s written text and photography “demystify imperial practices of seeing and recording, yet at the same time those practices are central to how she records her experience” (147). I touch on several of her photographs in this chapter with a focus on her use of self- portraiture and her intimate photograph of Sampson Beaver and his family. I read Schäffer’s portraits of herself and of Aboriginal people on the trail as contributing to her masculinist and imperialist authorial credibility, while also associating her gender with a more personalized and humanized relationship to the landscape and to the Aboriginal people whom she encounters. These contradictions emerge in the complex positioning of the female body in relation to the landscape and to the Aboriginal subjects in her photographs. Schäffer’s photography extends an increased confidence in her female perspective on the landscape to a more complex and self-aware way of Seeing/Knowing the Rockies so as to challenge the imperialist objectification of the land and its inhabitants. 6.3 The Horizons of Gender in Old Indian Trails One of the most recurring images in Old Indian Trails is that of the horizon as a metaphor for the boundaries of personal and cultural identity. Near the beginning of the text, she questions, “why must so many cling to the life of our great cities, declaring there only may the heart-hunger, the   226   artistic longings, the love of the beautiful be satisfied, and thus train themselves to believe there is nothing beyond the little horizon they have built for themselves?” (19). As discussed in earlier chapters, the horizon is the natural boundary or limit of one’s Sightline, evoking the limits of Knowledge. The pushing of the horizon on the frontier represents the Movement/Change of the boundaries of Sight and cultural Knowledge. Her reference to the “little horizon” of eastern urban spaces evokes the literal limitations on the horizon in eastern cities due to urban architecture. One of the interesting aspects of Schäffer’s use of this image in the urban space is the tension here between natural and artificially built horizons. The suggestion that city dwellers have “built” a horizon “for themselves” implies that urban cultural perspectives, particularly on the western frontier, are biased and restrictive. She emphasizes not only the need to get out of the confined urban perspective, but also to rethink urban interpretations of the frontier. Schäffer is most creative with her use of the horizon metaphor when she applies it to the female experience. Describing her frustration at wanting to escape gender norms on the frontier, she states, “there are times when the horizon seems restricted and we seemed127 to have reached that horizon. And the limit of all endurance,—to sit with folded hands and listen calmly to the stories of the hills we so longed to see, the hills which had lured and beckoned us for years before this long list of men had ever set foot in the country” (19). Here Schäffer compares the restrictive urban horizon specifically to restraints on female experience. At the turn of the twentieth century, nature was often mythologized from an urban, middle-class perspective as a redemptive alternative to the perceived social ills of industry and development (Schmitt xvii-xviii). The task of escaping and reforming urban society on the western frontier was pervasively seen as a masculine endeavour (Morrison 112-113) and one that was opposed with the restrictive influences of female domesticity (Greenberg 3). Schäffer challenges stereotypes of a feminized urban east   227   coast by implying that gender norms are not innate, but are rather imposed upon women. By using this more masculine image of the horizon in the city space, she suggests that women are looking for the same kinds of “freedom” and “progress” that their male peers are in order to break free from gender norms and the restriction to the private sphere, and to gain access to the rhetoric of male heroism that is associated with actively defining and pushing the boundaries of cultural identity. This horizon image conveys Schäffer’s wish not just to escape domesticity, but also to escape from the gender ideology that simultaneously confines women to the domestic sphere and devalues this sphere in relation to male roles in society. Her use of the horizon metaphor in the city reminds readers that eastern women and men who long for some kind of cultural renewal or freedom on the frontier are engaged in the same struggle—to broaden individual and cultural horizons. According to Schäffer, this escape from civilization is not an escape from women, but actually an escape from institutionalized social inequalities. The very first photograph in Schäffer’s text, which appears as the frontispiece in the original edition, skillfully situates her against a receding wilderness horizon so as to evoke her subtle and complex preoccupation with pushing boundaries (See Fig 6.1). The dimensions of the photograph create a narrow verticality that guides the viewer into the distant hills, which contain what appear to be a series of paths. This emphasis on perspective involves the reader in Schäffer’s Movement/Change in the wilderness. The faded details of the distant hills echo the chiaroscuro wilderness backgrounds in Renaissance paintings and help to situate Schäffer within a creditable aesthetic legacy of wilderness art. There are three main fields of perspective in this photograph including the grassy area in the foreground, the dense, seemingly impenetrable forest behind Schäffer, and the distant hills. Schäffer’s positioning in front of the forest deliberately places her at the edge of a Bounded Location to indicate her role in pushing her own States of self, and those   228   of the various collective identities with which she is affiliated—the United States and Canada, white easterners, and women. According to the OBJECTIVE STANDPOINT and Knowing is Seeing metaphors, she gains perspective by existing outside of (and as seemingly ready to push through) the Bounded Location/State of the forest. The visual representation of these metaphors reminds the reader that this process is one that they experientially partake in while reading the book. By directly facing the reader, she takes on the role of visual and cultural guide. The question of just what kind of guide Schäffer represents here can only be found by sifting through the various small discrepancies of the photograph, which, as with those found in Cameron’s photos, resist the absolutism and empiricism of imperialist representations of the wilderness. This photograph situates Schäffer within the iconography of male white travel writers. Like Cameron, she dons a Mountie-style hat and faces the camera with a grave directness, evoking the militaristic cultural superiority of male explorers. However, Schäffer’s skirt and buckskin jacket complicate this image by evoking her contradictory female perspective, as well as her compassion and curiosity in relation to Aboriginal people. The similarity between the angle of the horse’s and Schäffer’s heads in relation to the camera evokes her interests in wilderness conservation and animal rights. As MacFarlane notes, Schäffer’s self-deprecating caption, “Nibs and His Mistress” directs readers’ attention away from her and onto her horse. Unlike the often sensationalist and awkwardly candid photographs of Cameron, including the grotesque opening image of her holding a severed moose’s head, this photograph presents subversive undertones that are at once more subtle and far reaching (particularly in Schäffer’s more sympathetic treatment of animals). Despite her air of confidence and authority, Schäffer’s relatively relaxed posture does not convey the desire to assert excessive control over her animal, the landscape, or even the reader. Similarly, in addition to her relaxed, stationary pose, the   229   absence of any discernable trail in the foreground of the photograph suggests her alternative search for peace and equality, as opposed to cultural conquest in the wilderness.128 While the openness of the foreground indicates her freedom from the restrictiveness of social codes, her central positioning in the centre of the photograph portrays her as nestled in the bounded locations of the park, the book, and the photograph. This nod to the SELF AS CONTAINER metaphor as well as the OBJECTIVE STANDPOINT metaphor implies that she shifts between Locations/States of self in the wilderness, or also potentially finds a new and alternative Location/State of self, one that seems to include her own conflicting perspectives as female, adventure traveller, nature photographer, and conservationist. Schäffer also explores the complexity of her perspective on the wilderness by portraying her camp as a kind of protective, domestic space while her guides are off in the wilderness. At one point she observes, “the next day passed as only a woman in camp knows how to pass it. To study out how to do a large wash in a small teacup, to smooth out the rough-dry garments and avoid appearing as though one had personally passed through a wringer, these are chores which cause an off-day in camp to glide as swiftly by as the passing of the sun” (35). Her description of the day as passing “as only a woman in camp knows how to pass it” presents an image of Movement/Change in the wilderness that is paradoxically focussed on the Bounded Location/State of female domesticity. This tension between wilderness freedom and domesticity challenges separate spheres ideology as well as the dichotomy between the feminine east and the masculine west. By evoking this stereotype of female domesticity, she strengthens her credibility amongst readers. However, Schäffer’s domestic chores here operate outside of any particular social, moral, or familial framework, and instead facilitate her own sense of personal freedom and wellbeing as a woman in the wilderness. She reminds us that in the wilderness, she escapes gender codes that   230   dictate and limit women’s experiences in the private sphere. By describing domestic chores as heroic, she places a value on her own female perspective on the wilderness that is more associated with personal growth and an appreciation for the wilderness. She further associates this idea of domesticity with a harmonious relationship to her surroundings in the image of the days “glid[ing] as swiftly by as the passing of the sun.” Her domestic chores not only pass the time, but do so in a way that connects her to the wilderness. All of the images in this passage involve shifting Bounded Locations/States. Schäffer mentions studying “how to do a large wash in a small teacup” and learning to “avoid appearing as though one had personally passed through a wringer” (35). Her allusion to a wringer washing machine appeals to her middle-class, white female demographic. This domestication of the wilderness and foregrounding of her personal, female perspective could, according to critics such as Wexler, run the risk of glossing over the more violent and exploitative context of wilderness expansion (6). However, it would be a rather reductive and anachronistic mistake to interpret motifs of domesticity and the private sphere as inherently lacking in social criticism or complexity. Schäffer’s discussion of doing domestic chores humanizes her to a female readership, while also subtly challenging gender expectations. Performing domestic chores in such an incongruous wilderness setting de-familiarizes these deeply familiar aspects of female experience so as to acknowledge their place in women’s lives, while also recognizing that women can play multiple roles. The image of trying to fit her washing into a teacup exaggerates domestic physical containment to convey the struggle to maintain the standards of cleanliness and ritual to which she is accustomed. This metaphor of the tea-cup exaggeratedly suggests the pressure to fit into restrictive gender norms. However, Schäffer’s gently humourous tone, along with her personal contentment during such domestic rituals, playfully identify with a domestic perspective   231   as a woman, while recognizing that this identification is not inherent or complete. Like Gallatin, Schäffer uses images of States of transition between Bounded Locations to emphasize the fluidity of female identity in experiencing moments of domesticity as well as individualism and freedom on the frontier. The struggle that she evokes in these domestic tasks ironically portrays her domestic outlook on the wilderness as heroically pushing cultural boundaries. One of the only other photographs that actually depicts Schäffer in her original text presents one of these moments of blissful female solitude in the wilderness (See Fig 6.2). Near the end of the chapter entitled “Tribulations of the Investigator,” Schäffer includes a remarkably domestic image of herself doing laundry in Maligne Lake—the lake that she famously visited and surveyed.129 Dramatically captured in silhouette, Schäffer is situated near the central foreground of the frame and is seen standing in the water up to her mid calves, bent over while cleaning an article of clothing that is also partially immersed in the water. Schäffer’s representation of herself in such a feminine pose indicates a domestication of the wilderness.130 As an addition to the photograph, the caption, “When I saw the last of those four men I knew what was going to happen” (279), emphasizes her gendered perspective on the landscape. The contrast between herself and “those four men” as well as her eagerness to experience the locale without their presence suggests that as a woman, she has a different relationship to the landscape in her prioritization of small quotidian and domestic experiences in the wilderness. While this image of domesticity conveys a somewhat deceitfully “innocent eye” (Wexler 6) on the wilderness, it also pushes the boundaries of acceptable female behaviour in imperialist discourse of westward expansion. As I will show, the photograph is far from a conventional image of orderly domesticity. She re-envisions the wilderness as a utopian female space that is at once feminine in   232   its allusion to the domestic realm, and yet also free from restrictive, imperialist social codes of traditional femininity. Seen in sharp relief against the vast open expanse of water, with a dramatic and mountainous horizon in the distance, Schäffer’s lone figure in the wilderness evokes her patriarchal and imperialist role in pushing cultural boundaries and representing ideas of freedom and independence associated with cultural progress. However, she appears to merge into the lake as though she is at one with the wilderness as opposed to trying to gain control over it. She appears to blend into the landscape in different ways. The underexposed quality of the photograph makes her silhouette appear dark and without detail, and the triangular shape of her figure, as well as the shadow that she casts into the lake, suggest her seamless connection to her surroundings, as though she is a natural feature of the landscape. Despite the vast expanse of open water, Schäffer is actually framed by the edge of the lake in the foreground and the mountainous opposing shoreline. As with the frontispiece photograph, she appears to have the perspective that comes with being outside of a Bounded Location/State. However, the reminders of the Bounded Location of the lake and of the domestic sphere also associate this very increased perspective with a new State of self—one in which her freedom of perspective lies in a more alternative, female identification with the land and in the ability to shift between different Bounded Locations/States. The Destination/Goal of the female traveller here seems not to be the physical domination and cultural conquest of the land, but instead, the ability to experience the more daily individual freedoms that women of her time could not take for granted. Ideas of cultural progress and identity, which normally other the wilderness and seek to deny or devalue the female experience, must make room in Schäffer’s photograph for both. Schäffer’s more peaceful and subjective   233   relationship to the land re-envisions ideas of cultural progress as more open, inclusive, and relational. Schäffer also pushes the boundaries of her own perspectives on the wilderness when she describes looking at herself through the eyes of the people she encounters on the trail. While camping, Schäffer comes across explorer A.P. Coleman. Schäffer’s description of their encounter revolves around how he must perceive her. She states, “[h]e was a truly remarkable man, for being a hundred and twenty-five miles from a railroad, two women were probably the very last objects he expected to find in that tent in a snow-storm” (47).131 Schäffer’s ability to imagine her appearance from the perspective of others is a recurring feature of her writing. She evokes the OS metaphor by gaining perspective on her own identity in imagining herself from the point of view of those around her. This image of being far away from a railroad also establishes a location far outside the bounded track of the railway and the sense of familiar cultural identity that it represents. The remoteness of her location evokes the masculine Destination/Goal of pushing frontier boundaries in the wilderness. Her reminder that two women in a tent are an unexpected sight suggests that seemingly universal traditional Destinations/Goals in the wilderness are actually very gendered. Once again, she describes her experience of the wilderness as a kind of contained alternative female space that exists outside of gender norms and imperialist ideas of cultural progress. By seeing this contained space from the point of view of a contemporary male writer, Schäffer not only presents an alternatively gendered perspective on the wilderness, but also a more self-aware and self-critical perspective. Schäffer describes a similarly self-conscious passing encounter with Rudyard Kipling and his wife. On her way back from the wilderness, and approaching the town of Banff, she describes passing a carriage of people whom she later discovers are the Kiplings: “I only saw it all in one   234   awful flash from the corner of my right eye, and I remember distinctly that she had gloves on. Then I realized . . . that my three companions looked like Indians, and that the lady gazing at us belonged to another world. It was then that I wanted my wild free life back again, yet step by step I was leaving it behind” (78). Schäffer’s description of this moment as an intense flash on the margins of her Sight portrays her own identification with the wilderness as a Bounded Location/State that represents an alternative cultural Knowledge of cultural progress. The ESSENTIAL IS CENTRAL metaphor reminds us that after her time on the trail, she sees her own alternative perspective as ironically of more importance than that of a famous male author such as Kipling. Her sense of disorientation in this encounter appears in the tension between her and Kipling’s wife’s opposing Bounded Locations/States. She emphasizes the deeply experiential nature of their opposing psychological and cultural states in her observation that they come from “different worlds.” As in the encounter with Coleman, Schäffer evokes the OS metaphor by describing the lady’s gaze as making her suddenly aware of her own perspective through the eyes of eastern gender codes. Similarly, as is evident in her synecdochal reference to the woman’s gloves, she also objectifies Kipling’s wife from outside of the carriage in a way that offers an outsider’s perspective on the other woman’s Bounded Location/State. This awareness of her own shifting between “different worlds” conveys a critical distance from ideas of cultural progress, which she represents and from which she is excluded in this passage.132 Schäffer’s perception of herself through Kipling’s wife’s eyes is poignant because she acknowledges her own conflicted perspective on multiple levels. She does not fit into any role either in society or in the wilderness, and she reminds us here of the bias and potential inaccuracies of dominant eastern perspectives on the frontier.   235   Schäffer’s similarly self-conscious descriptions of her encounters with Aboriginal people emphasize her fascination with challenging norms of both gender and ethnicity on the trail. While talking with a man named Silas Abraham, Schäffer attempts to impose suffragist attitudes onto him by telling him that he should not expect his wife to do all the domestic chores. She is surprised to find that he has a sense of humour when he jokes that she must be lazy for not completing such tasks herself. Schäffer describes with warmth and humour the experience of having to laugh at her own attempts to impose white, urban feminist values on the Aboriginal people she meets: “The missionary effect went to the floor with a bang and every one burst out laughing (at the missionary, of course)” (73). By referring to herself as a missionary, Schäffer recognizes the complexity of her own subject position. She contextualizes her own feelings of cultural marginalization as a woman within a position of race and class privilege. She identifies with the man across their intersecting experiences of gender and ethnicity, while also self- reflexively undermining and attempting to break free from her own cultural authority and privilege. In particular, Schäffer’s image of “the missionary effect” falling “to the floor with a bang” again makes use of the OS metaphor as well as synecdoche to emphasize the dissociation that she experiences when seeing herself through the eyes of others on the trail. Here, she employs the SELF CONTROL IS OBJECT CONTROL metaphor133 as she describes part of her Self as an Object that crashes out of her control. The violence of this image indicates a sudden and dramatic shift in self-perspective involving a loss in Bodily/Self-Control. As well, the description of the crowd as “bursting out laughing” evokes an exploding container to indicate that this loss of control is mutual and amicable and represents a kind of cultural exchange in perspective and understanding.   236   Schäffer also uses the verb to catch to describe a mutual exchange and broadening of cultural perspectives in her encounters with Aboriginal people. When she meets the families of Sampson Beaver and Silas Abraham, she states: “they all talk at once. . . the only intelligible word I caught being ‘yahe weha’ a name they had given me the year before meaning ‘mountain woman’” (71). Schäffer describes herself as subject to being perceived, even named, by others. Her dissociative self-description here has even more interesting political connotations than in her encounters with Kipling’s wife because she describes her identity as blending with and even being named and identified by Aboriginal women and children. Rather than a moment of tension between her and her cultural background, this is an instance of willful immersion and loss of Bodily/Self-Control at the hands of Aboriginal people. She conveys this accepted loss of control in the image of catching her name from the clamour of sounds that greets her. By catching her name from this group of people, she defines her State of Bodily/Self-Control as an Object that is defined by the process of shifting between Bounded Locations/States. As well, her Perspective and shifting Location/State represent a kind of relational process of mutual exchange and emphasize her willingness to gain objectivity on her own cultural identity by looking at herself through the eyes of others. She suggests that her ability to enter into this kind of exchange provides more artistic and authorial legitimacy in her description of photographing the women: “There were no men to disturb the peace, the women quickly caught our ideas, entered the spirit of the game. And with musical laughter and little giggles, allowed themselves to be hauled about and pushed and posed in a fashion to turn an artist green with envy” (71). This image of men “disturbing the peace” asserts her idea of the wilderness as a utopian female Bounded Location/State that she imagines as free from oppressive masculinist influences, and she extends this idea to include Aboriginal women. By describing the women as catching “our ideas,”   237   Schäffer indicates a mutual exchange whereby her very willingness to lose Bodily/Self-Control among these women allows her in turn to catch or capture them in photographs. Schäffer’s playful allusion to the envy of other artists proposes an ideal of artistic merit based on a self- reflexive cultural exchange and dialogue that she fosters in relation to her Aboriginal subjects. Her style of photography seems to represent her subjects more accurately partly because of her commitment to improving relations between subject and photographer and between Aboriginal inhabitants of the area and travel writers such as herself. Schäffer’s photograph of the Beaver family offers a particularly memorable glimpse into her perspective on the Aboriginal people whom she encounters (See Fig 6.3). Sampson actually gives her a map of the route to Maligne Lake, which she includes in the text, and upon which she relies on her journey.134 Featured in the chapter, “Golden Plains of the Saskatchewan,” this photograph captures Sampson, along with his wife and child, and is accompanied by the caption, “Sampson Beaver, His Squaw, and Little Frances Louise.” The description of Sampson’s wife as “His Squaw” in the caption diminishes the individuality and complexity of her female subject.135 This objectification also informs the contrived nature of the photograph in which the three figures appear close up in the middle of the frame and all stare directly at the camera as though subjects of an ethnographic study. However, Schäffer’s personal acquaintance with the family is also apparent. The subjects face toward the camera in poses of relaxed intimacy so as to show a familiarity and understanding between photographer and subject. In order for Schäffer to achieve the angle of the photograph, she would have to kneel down on the ground in front of the family. All three figures smile at the photographer in what appear to be natural expressions of humour, warmth, and understanding, as if to suggest an active, willing participation in the picture-taking process, and also a relationship of trust and familiarity with Schäffer. The adults are pictured   238   sitting down and appear at eye level with the photographer so as to indicate a sense of equality— and a literally and figuratively leveling common ground between them. The Knowing is Seeing metaphor is particularly pertinent to photography because of the way that photographers shape the boundaries of the viewer’s sightline. Ideas of the male gaze or the imperialist gaze tap into this metaphor by exploring how artists shape understandings of cultural difference by literally shaping our field of vision. The expressive intimacy in the eye contact of Schäffer’s subjects powerfully conveys a relational aesthetic gaze between subject and photographer,136 in which the reader participates. By encouraging her readers to see Aboriginal people literally eye-to-eye, and to participate in this more equal, relational gaze, Schäffer encourages a cross-cultural dialogue, and reminds readers of the cultural value, individuality, and human rights of Aboriginal people, and the losses that they incur throughout frontier expansion. 6.4 Wilderness Conservation in Old Indian Trails Near the beginning of the text, Schäffer emphasizes that her alternative Destinations/Goals in the wilderness reflect not only her gender, but also a more conservationist approach to nature. In the first chapter, she explains, “our chief aim was to penetrate to the head waters of the Saskatchewan and Athabaska rivers. To be quite truthful, it was but an aim, an excuse, for our real object was to delve into the heart of an untouched land, to tread where no human foot had trod before, to turn the unthumbed pages of an unread book, and to learn daily those secrets which dear Mother Nature is so willing to tell to those who seek” (18). Schäffer uses the word “penetrate” to evoke the masculinist language that writers of the time used to describe their Destinations/Goals in the wilderness.137 However, she indicates that she has an alternative perspective by referring to the   239   discrepancy between more traditional “aim[s]” and the “real object” of her journey. The fact that the words “aim” and “object” are both ways of referring to a physical Destination reminds readers that she physically pursues an alternative cultural Goal in the wilderness. Interestingly, Schäffer’s image of “delv[ing] into the heart of an untouched land” and “turn[ing] the unthumbed pages of an underead book” both draw on common metaphors of the land as a virginal female body and “tabula rasa.”138 Both of these metaphors describe the land as a Bounded Location/State that is empty and passive in relation to the Movement/Change of travellers. However, as in her photograph of the Beaver family, Schäffer portrays herself in a dialogue with the land itself in her suggestion that she aims to “learn daily those secrets which dear Mother Nature is so willing to tell to those who seek.” In this passage, she portrays the Location of the land, not merely as passive and empty, but as in a position of authority and as already filled with a State of knowledge that it may or may not confer on the traveller. This image of listening to the land again calls on the OS metaphor and illustrates Schäffer’s desire to gain perspective on her self and her own cultural background, rather than simply asserting cultural control. While Schäffer’s articulation of having different Destinations/Goals is somewhat gendered throughout the text, she focusses this sense of difference on issues of conservation. Describing the garbage left behind by tourists at Camp Parker, she laments the wasteful behaviour of a typical fellow traveller: “when he has drained the last drop from the condensed milk-can, has finished the maple syrup, or cleaned up the honey-jar, he drops the useless vessel on the spot, and Camp Parker has consequently developed into a rubbish heap . [. . .] and the other average camper will go on to the end of time tripping over the objectionable stuff” (58). In referring to an archetypal male traveller, Schäffer adopts the universalizing tone of frontier heroism. However, her criticism of this archetypal figure reminds us of the gendered nature of such heroic roles, and aligns her   240   feminist critique with environmental concerns. These images of bounded food containers being used up and left behind parallels the wider invasion and exploitation of the surrounding wilderness and its inhabitants. The word “developed” is significant because it evokes the Movement/Change of frontier adventure writing, while suggesting that the Movement of tourists leads to a kind of Change that does not result in cultural progress. Her reference to “the other average camper” indicates an alternative to this archetype, and the gender neutrality of this term reminds us that she is a candidate for this role. The description of the rubbish heap as getting in the way of other tourists such as herself implies that eastern travellers ironically become their own Obstacle/ Impediment to achieving cultural progress because of the wasteful and exploitative way that most of them treat the land. As well, the image of tourists tripping over the rubbish heap “to the end of time” connects the Movement of frontier travel with Change over time and reminds the reader of the actual negative changes to the landscape that underlie frontier expansion. Schäffer describes her own behaviour on the trail as an alternative to the way her male contemporaries act. When leaving Nashan Lake, she comments that “neither our coming nor going left one ripple on her placid face; born to loneliness she would not miss us” (56). Similar to male adventure writers, Schäffer personifies the land as female and as representative of a type of pure or chaste femininity. However, in contrast to common phallic imagery of penetration, she describes her relationship to this feminized space as a more neutral “coming” and “going.” This image of entering and leaving the landscape without disturbing it suggests her ability to shift perspectives between different Bounded Locations/States. In comparison to motifs of intrusion, invasion, and penetration, her more neutral image of “coming” and “going” suggests that the Movement of their journey results in no major Change in the overall wilderness itself. In other words, the kind of progress she seeks in the wilderness involves an internal transformation that she   241   feels should not be imposed in a detrimental way on the wilderness. She also conveys her fear of harming her natural surroundings by adding: “I can imagine no more haunting memory of the trail than to feel that I or my companions might be responsible for any of the many forest fires which have from time to time disfigured that glorious mountain country of which I write” (45). Her discussion of trail memories connects the Movement of her journey with the Change of the passing of time in her own individual life. The idea of being “haunted” by such recollections acknowledges the unreliability of her own memory, and creative process, in accurately recording the Movement/Change of the trail. In fact, this ironic image of the trail as following her as opposed to the other way around is reminiscent of the relational gaze in her photography and suggests that the act of trying to physically or intellectually control the landscape ultimately draws attention to one’s lack of control. Her sense of fallibility in representing the land emphasizes the importance of protecting the wilderness that defines cultural identity, and of re-envisioning cultural progress as a non-exploitative, more socially responsible endeavour. Schäffer’s fascination with the horses on her journey is one of the most prominent eco- conscious aspects of her text. She insists that, “living with them, trailing with them, watching over their interests, they soon ceased to be beasts of burden” (25). Her use of the words “living” and “trailing” directly connects the group’s Movements with the Changes in the lives of both the humans and animals on the trail. There is a leveling gesture here to place the deeply interconnected physical and psychological lives of humans and animals on an equal footing. Her image of “watching over their interests” suggests a kind of paternalistic, but compassionate attempt to identify with the experience of the animals on the trail. While she describes herself above them in a position of implied authority, she also attempts to See/Know their perspective. Her suggestion that they cease to be “beasts of burden” implies that in identifying with the horses,   242   she gains Perspective/Objectivity139 on her own identity. Schäffer’s attempt to alleviate their physical burden requires seeing beyond their objectified status on the trail and recognizing their interior life. She adds that, “[o]n the trail we lived with them and talked to them til they and we understood each other’s movements thoroughly; their characters were as individual as our own” (52). She suggests that communicating with the horses in a more psychologically relational manner goes hand in hand with becoming more physically in sync with them. Her insistence on identifying with the animals conveys her own priority as a female traveller to move beyond stereotypical objectifications not only of women, but of the land and surrounding wildlife. Rising above such objectifications, Schäffer questions the way ideals of cultural progress rely on processes of dehumanization and exploitation. Schäffer insists on inscribing the experience of animals into cultural memory about westward travel. After observing the severe effects on horses in the trek to Moose Lake, she notes that “instead of realizing the real beauty of that charming sheet of water that day, my mind was not only on our horses, but on those which had gone before and must come after before the coming railroad, the Grand Trunk Pacific, would be a fact” (122). Schäffer’s impulse to focus on the aesthetic beauty of her surroundings indicates her awareness of how exploration literature objectifies the wilderness. She draws attention to the discrepancy between aesthetic descriptions of nature and the actual violence, hardship, and exploitation of animals that they conceal. She hints that she cannot invest in representations of the wilderness that do not recognize the underlying realities and effects of wilderness travel on the actual wilderness.140 By describing her mind as “on our horses,” she again draws on the SELF CONTROL IS OBJECT CONTROL and OS metaphors by referring to herself (in this case, her mind) as a physical object that she controls and looks at from the outside. These metaphors emphasize her attempt to gain   243   Perspective/Objectivity on her cultural background by entering into a more relational understanding of the land around her. Her allusion to “those which had gone before and must come after before the coming railroad” connects the collective Movement of horses on the trail to the Change of westward expansion. While images of railways are commonly used to represent cultural progress, Schäffer deliberately reminds the reader of the exploitation of animals that underlies familiar images of westward Movement/Change. By including the experiences of animals in her book, Schäffer tells her story in dialogue with her surroundings, offering a more diverse and multifaceted perspective on westward expansion and ideas of cultural progress. 6.5 Laut Laut’s vast contribution to wilderness literature and her strong reputation throughout the first half of the twentieth century in American wilderness circles are testament to her active engagement in frontier revival literature. Born in Ontario in 1871 and raised in Winnipeg (Legge ix), Laut began living permanently in New York in 1902 partly to be more integrated in the American publishing industry (Legge xiii), where she eventually worked as assistant editor of, among other publications, the famous wilderness magazine Outing (Legge xiv). Beginning her journalistic career at the Winnipeg Free Press in 1895 (Legge xi), she went on to enjoy a successful career as a journalist, contributing to publications such as the Montreal Herald, the New York Evening Post, and the London Graphic (Legge xii). Aside from her significant legacy of journalistic work, Laut also published many wilderness novels, popular history, and travel literature. She is one of the most interesting female frontier revival authors in terms of her considerable participation in wilderness writing on both sides of the border. Not only did she spend years working and travelling across Canada with her camera (Legge xii), but she was also largely recognized by her   244   contemporaries as an influential Canadian literary figure (Legge xxv), despite her extensive travel and work experience south of the border. Her tendency to write about Canadian settings for American readers in books such as her novel Lords of the North, and to weave together Canadian and American settings as in Enchanted Trails of Glacier Park, accentuates her professional and personal identity as a cross-border figure. Laut’s interest in comparing and contrasting aspects of American and Canadian culture (Legge xv) shows her awareness of how cultural ideas of the wilderness negotiate and cross the border. As well, her membership in several women’s organizations in New York, including the Woman’s Civic Federation and Woman’s City (Legge xiv), suggests her interest in women’s issues of her time. Furthermore, like Schäffer, Laut had a lifelong interest in Aboriginal cultures and, in particular, Aboriginal art (Legge x). In Enchanted Trails of Glacier Park, Laut conducts an impressive balancing act by alluding to her Canadian identity, while writing about and for American culture, and by participating in the dominant rhetoric of westward expansion, while subtly highlighting issues relating to gender, Aboriginal cultures, and the environment. The remarkably small amount of academic discussion of Laut, despite her contribution to Canadian literature and her engagement in New York wilderness literary circles, is partly a reflection of the difficulties in categorizing her work. An important way that Enchanted Trails of Glacier Park departs from the previous texts that I discuss is that it is not set in the Canadian Rockies, but rather in Montana’s Glacier Park. However, Laut makes frequent reference to travelling in the Canadian Rockies, to the Canadian border, and to the role of western Canada in what she portrays as an intercontinental process of westward expansion. Laut’s cross-border discussion of the west helps to establish the objective tone of the book with its broad historical focus and discussion of issues of public policy relating to national parks and Aboriginal people.   245   As with Cameron, the tone of her writing resembles that of a textbook or government pamphlet at times. In longwinded descriptions of the history of westward expansion, she adopts a generalized form of American manifest destiny rhetoric and focusses on westward expansion as less about national divisions than about the expansion of white, Anglo-Saxon eastern culture. Her generalized cross-border perspective risks concealing the imperialist nature of such rhetoric of frontier expansion. However, it also offers a way of appropriating imperialist rhetoric. Her more detached tone throughout the text allows her to downplay her gender, while also extending this gendered perspective to other more pressing concerns of the time. Laut has recurring physical motifs throughout her text that subtly hint at her gendered perspective on the landscape; however, she repeatedly uses these motifs as platforms from which to discuss bigger issues of conservation and civil rights. She tends to deflect her own female perspective on the wilderness by describing the physical experiences of other women travellers on the trail. Laut’s text may at first appear to offer an almost officious or mainstream perspective on the west. However, her impersonal persona in itself reflects increased opportunities for women writers and the ability to assume authorial credibility without focussing on gender. It also allows Laut to cloak her underlying interest in women’s perspectives within a broader context of cultural concerns. Like Schäffer, Laut remains fascinated by representation of the west, and she addresses issues and problems of representation at great length throughout her text, while also including several photographs. Interestingly, in keeping with Laut’s relatively impersonal tone, she does not seem to appear in any of the photographs.141 There are very few photographic representations of women. The photographs are primarily of dramatic landscape scenes or, on occasion, of Aboriginal men. Unlike Schäffer’s more personable and humanizing representations of Sampson Beaver and his family, Laut represents Aboriginal people in detached, formal poses. The lack of   246   visual references to the photographer in these pictures conveys a sense of objectivity that is reminiscent of ethnographic and documentary images of the time.142 Laut’s photographic gaze is disembodied in its concealment of her authorial perspective, and in this way remains a less prominent and challenging aspect of her text in comparison with Schäffer’s use of photography. However, her inclusion of a large proportion of photographs of Aboriginal people amidst nature photographs and images of western cities and railways does prioritize the experiences of Aboriginals within the overall representation of westward expansion. Furthermore, the very candid and documentary nature of her photography suggests the value of trying to See/Know the experiences of Aboriginal people and western settings outside of conventionally biased and objectifying representations. 6.6 Intercontinental Movement/Change in Enchanted Trails of Glacier Park Echoing Schäffer’s fascination with horizons, Laut focusses on the westward Movement of exploration, trade routes, settlement, and ongoing frontier expansion to represent ideas of Change and cultural progress that seem to transcend the border itself. Referring to an archeologist’s dream of following a “racial trail going back to the dawn of time” (22), she associates travel in the wilderness of the national park system with a pinnacle of evolution. This allusion to Darwinian concepts in relation to westward expansion runs the risk of promoting justifications for the racial exploitation, inequality, and prejudice that underlie such expansion. However, Laut is careful to acknowledge the actual diversity that comprises the west. She also discusses technology, particularly the emergence of the automobile, to both evoke and complicate ideas of racial progression on the frontier, stating that the car “has pulled up the racial roots of a thousand years.   247   It has converted home to wheels. It has made a continent one for the first time in history” (198).143 This discussion of “racial roots” describes humanity as an ongoing biological and cultural progression. The image of the car as pulling these roots up suggests that it offers a form of westward Movement/Change, which disrupts traditional frontier travel that she associates with more gradual racial evolution. The increased speed and individualized aspects of car travel can be seen as making the west more accessible and diverse. However, her claim that it has “made a continent one” (198) recalls the rhetoric of Anglo-Saxon inter-continental expansion to suggest that this new accessibility merely facilitates Anglo-Saxon cultural domination. Laut’s embrace of the chaos and disorder in this image does suggest curiosity about the democratizing potential for highway systems and increased access for the public to wilderness areas. This concept of continental expansion, while still a predominantly eastern and Anglo phenomenon, remains a kind of vehicle for an increasingly diverse west and more diverse concepts of North American identity. Laut continually links questions surrounding changing women’s roles to bigger questions about cultural identity through descriptions of the female body. She uses the recurring rhetorical question of “Why [c]limb?” (99) and claims that she has found an answer to this question in the enthusiasm of a young woman who she meets on the trail. After relaying the woman’s thoughts on the benefits of climbing, Laut puts this question to the reader: “In the young town girl’s recital, have I answered the question—Why climb?—Why motor? Why fly? Why do anything that takes the dead weight of fatigue from body and mind, and gives tireless pace to feet, and carefree joy to every pulse of heart and nerve. And wings to the very soul? She had been up on the roof of America, and, like the Morning Stars of the old earth’s youth, sang with the joy of life. And that is—Why climb?!” (108). Her catalogue of types of mobility including climbing, motoring, and flying, emphasizes new modes of transportation, which would actively expand women’s physical   248   and social mobility. In this light, she situates increases in women’s freedom within wider ideas of social and economic progress. Like Gallatin, she focusses on the value of physical freedom as a way of ensuring and expanding social mobility. Accessing the wilderness of the national parks represents for her an alleviation of the Impediments/Difficulties facing “body and mind.” By referring to the importance of increasing the pace of one’s Movement/Change and the extent of Knowledge Gained/Ground Covered she suggests a process of pushing the boundaries of identity. She also evokes this pushing of boundaries in the image of reaching the “roof of America,” and combines it with the Control is Up metaphor144 to suggest a pinnacle of cultural progress. Such progress pushes the limits of the Bounded Location of the body (“heart and nerve”), resulting in a corresponding State of “joy.” She focusses on the more individual Destination/Goal of personal freedom and contentment in relation to women and extends this to the country as a whole. The question of “why climb?” becomes symbolic of how women’s lives can be improved by expanding their physical freedom. The wilderness setting of the park offers a site in which to not merely preserve and reenact older ideas of cultural progress and empire, but also to redefine and expand such ideas. One of the other recurring motifs that she extends from the female body to a broader North American demographic is that of expanding Sight/Knowledge. She pokes fun at this same young woman visiting from a big city, asking “[d]id she see the mountains?” (44). Because the woman evidently has literally seen the mountains, Laut’s question makes an explicit metaphorical connection between Sight/Knowledge that echoes Cameron’s guidance on how to look at wilderness areas in a way that expands, rather than reasserts, cultural belief systems. This need to look beyond social norms and expectations has a particular urgency for women and becomes a convenient recurring motif in Laut’s text in her portrait of the wilderness as a chance to   249   reinterpret, rather than reify, cultural belief systems. Like Cameron and Schäffer, Laut idealizes a way of Seeing that is based on a reciprocal cultural exchange of Knowledge and the ability to See outside of one’s self so as to gain Perspective/Objectivity on one’s cultural Knowledge. She declares that whether the young woman realizes it or not, the mountains are having an effect on her: “[i]f a few little needle-stings did puncture her periphery, the ozone was expelling fatigue poisons, cleaning out sluggish lungs and clearing a tired brain” (44). In this passage, she describes the young woman as a vessel that the surrounding environment permeates in order to expand her Sight/Knowledge. She employs the OBJECTIVE STANDPOINT metaphor to suggest the need for the Bounded Location/State of the female Body/Mind to allow for Movement/Change. Her focus on the woman’s sight as allowing this change within the Bounded Location/State of the Body/Mind portrays Sight as a way of receiving, as well as merely imposing, Knowledge upon the surrounding environment. Laut’s playful solicitousness about this woman’s physical relationship to her surroundings in the wilderness calls attention to increases in women’s freedoms and associates such freedoms with progress. Laut’s emphasis on sight extends the need to overcome restraints on female knowledge to a wider struggle to think outside of dominant cultural perspectives on the west. Beginning her narrative with a caution against those who go to the mountains without really seeing them, Laut adds: “Why do I say: Many people go to the mountains and never see them. Or miss the best that the mountains have to reveal?” (6). This image of Movement toward the mountains acknowledges ideas of Change and progress associated with adventure tourism. Her claim that this Movement/Change can involve a kind of Sight without Knowledge reminds readers that all Movement/Change does not necessarily entail progress. The image of the mountains as revealing themselves in a way that often goes unnoticed also portrays the mountains as a Bounded   250   Location/State. Rather than presenting them as passively awaiting the Movement/Change of the tourist, she describes them as in turn projecting Knowledge into the Sightline of the tourist. Like many of the other women I discuss—most memorably, Duncan and Cameron—Laut emphasizes the subjectivity of tourists’ perceptions so as to advocate a more interactive, receptive, and inclusive way of observing and learning from the wilderness. In her description of visitors, she comments that “[t]hey got out of the mountains just what they took with them—their own mental limit; just exactly the range of their own inner eye” (7). Her suggestion that the Sight/Knowledge that the tourist receives depends on “their own mental limit” portrays the tourist as a kind of Bounded Location/State that mirrors the Bounded Location/State of the wilderness setting. This image of the wilderness and the tourist as interacting Bounded Locations/States suggests the importance of shifting between cultural perspectives. The tension between the OS and SC metaphors hints at an ongoing cycle of gaining perspective and redefining one’s personal and cultural identity. She envisions a kind of identity formation that is based upon ongoing cultural exchange and an acceptance of the diversity of which North American society consists. In her discussion of ways of seeing, Laut makes several allusions to popular culture as a lens that shapes dominant perceptions of the frontier—perceptions that she suggests are racialized and gendered. While on a bus in Glacier Park, she observes the interactions between an Aboriginal driver and a young female tourist, focussing on the former: “I watched the by-play. It was exquisite. Here was a son of the wilds, a real movie hero, who knew mountains and loved them with a passion only the Indian legends of his ancestral Blackfeet can express” (9). Laut presents a way of seeing here that is detached on many different levels. Like Gallatin and Schäffer, she describes the events as a shifting dramatic set (Bounded Location/State) in order to convey the subjectivity of her perspective on the west. By distancing herself as an objective voyeur of   251   westward expansion, she emphasizes her critical perspective on dominant representations of the wilderness that shape ideas of cultural progress. Furthermore, the focus of Laut’s attention here is not the scenery, or, in keeping with the stage metaphor, the action on centre stage. Instead, she is interested in what she refers to as the “by-play” consisting of the interactions of her fellow travellers. She evokes the OS metaphor here to contradict the ESSENTIAL IS CENTRAL metaphor that underlies the Bounded Location/State of the image of a stage. Her interest in the peripheral action of her fellow companions reminds us that travellers unconsciously perform cultural ideas in the wilderness, despite their apparent objectivity, as witnesses, to their surroundings. It is of particular importance that Laut refers to a film set, as opposed to a theatrical stage, when referring to the Aboriginal driver as a “real movie hero.” She parallels the Movement/Change of the bus with that of motion pictures so as to emphasize that ideas of cultural progress in the wilderness are ongoing cultural performances. By portraying the man as both in and out of a cinematic screen, she acknowledges the tensions underlying dominant representations of the west. His simultaneous heroism and marginality hints at the objectification of Aboriginal people in popular representations of the west and suggests that these familiar stereotypes do not correspond neatly with reality. Laut’s fascination with dominant representations of Aboriginal people is coupled here with her interest in gender in her description of the young woman as “ a perfect copy of a girl on a magazine cover” (10). She describes the woman as occupying the Bounded Location/State of a popular magazine, thus confined by dominant gender norms. By referring to her as a “copy” she again calls attention to the way that members of marginalized groups do not fit easily into the fixed cultural categories that continue to underlie popular consumption of images of the west. Laut’s representation of these two young people as fitting uncomfortably within dominant discourse or on the margins of familiar stages of mass culture   252   reminds readers of how mainstream representations of the west prescribe and potentially confine our Sight/Knowledge. Laut’s description of the tension between the man and woman emphasizes their mutual objectification in mainstream representations of the wilderness. Laut quotes the woman as exclaiming, “Say—do you know—I always get the loveliest kick out of these mountain lakes” (11), and comments: “Did kick refer to her vocation in the jazz halls of the city canyons, or what sometimes flows through those canyons? I don’t know; but I’ll wager she didn’t see the same mountains that boy saw” (11). Laut’s description of the woman as “in the jazz halls of the city canyons” associates her with the Bounded Location/State of an eastern, urban space that she describes as a kind of parallel to the western landscape. Rather than associating this woman with confinement to the domestic sphere, she associates her with the public sphere of the entertainment industry. Her discussion of the jazz halls as Bounded Locations/States suggests that while the Movement/Change of women beyond the domestic sphere leads to increased Perspective/ Objectivity, it also potentially leads to new confining Bounded Locations/States through the objectifying public consumption and commodification of the female body in popular entertainment. While this word hints at the woman’s more modern perspective on the landscape, it also suggests that new freedoms may represent new kinds of confinement within the potentially violent cultural lens that the urban, industrialized east continues to impose on women and on the western landscape. Laut’s reminder that the woman and the man See/Know the landscape differently draws attention to how their perspectives are both shaped by dominant gendered and racialized representations of the west over which neither could possibly be fully in control. Laut further emphasizes that neither the woman nor the Aboriginal man fully identifies with or has control over their perspectives on the wilderness when she states that—“From the boy’s   253   grim grip on the wheel and the grimmer look on his face, I inferred the by-play was not moving on very fast to the climax scheduled in the third act; and here we were more than half-way home. The movie business was not panning out as it does in the play” (10). Once again, she alludes to the Bounded Locations/States of theatre and film to suggest that these fellow travellers are both playing roles in the wilderness. By blurring the boundaries of these roles, Laut shows that dominant perceptions of westward expansion are at once very powerful in shaping travellers’ perceptions of the wilderness and of race and gender, while also not conducive to capturing the actual diversity and complexity of lived experience, particularly of marginalized members of society. Laut’s distinction between theatre and film hints at how technological changes in cultural representation affect the way that people not only view the west, but also live in their bodies and perceive themselves on a daily basis. Her observation that “the movie business was not panning out as it does in the play” identifies film as a different way of shaping Sight/Knowledge than theatre. The idiom “to pan out” refers to the outward Movement of a lens and, thus, evokes a Change in Perspective/Objectivity. Using a film metaphor to describe the theatre, she portrays these forms of representation as deeply connected in their ability to shape Sight/Knowledge. However, her description of film as ironically offering less perspective suggests that while the newer technology of film provides a bigger and seemingly more objective view of the west, it also limits or confines the perspective of the viewer. Her own critical distance from this scene indicates a skepticism about contemporary film representations of the west, including the burgeoning genre of the western.145 Laut’s humourous depiction of the two figures’ failed attempts to live up to filmic representations of the west reminds readers of the way that mass produced images of the frontier play a powerful and deceptive role in shaping an individual’s Sight/Knowledge of western settings and of themselves.   254   Laut’s critique of popular and mass produced representations of the west encompasses her discussion of western stereotypes, or what she refers to as types. She critiques what she sees as the common ilk of young male traveller who just goes west to “do things he would never do at home” (123), stating, “[h]e is trying to live up to what he thinks is the Wild West.” (123). Her discussion of a mythic “Wild West” that young men feel they must “live up to” employs the Control is Up metaphor and the image of young men literally looking Up to cinematic portrayals of the west to find Bodily/Self-Control through popular models of behaviour. In particular, her focus on young men indicates the way that representations of the west define ideals of heroic masculinity. She suggests that such models of heroism not only shape people’s daily lives, but also act as an escape that does not reflect the realities of the western frontier anymore than it does the daily lived realities of masculinity. She extends this critique to young people in general: “It’s the ‘kid’ girl or boy, who has never kicked entirely free of all conventional bonds before. They do here and sometimes they kick too high” (123-124). This image of pushing boundaries on the frontier echoes the Obstacles/Impediments and Movement/Change at the edges of Bounded Locations/States in frontier revival literature. Laut explicitly recognizes that these motifs are aimed at a fairly narrow demographic of white, middle class, English-speaking easterners. Her repetition of the colloquial word kick throughout the book is another nod to eastern mass culture and emphasizes that these bigger frontier motifs are more about providing models of behaviour for easterners than about accurately reflecting western settings. The word connotes modern increases in physical and social freedoms that young people would have experienced at the time. Other underlying connotations of aimlessness and violence attached to this word also raise questions about the sense of cultural progress and agency that young easterners try to achieve when travelling west.   255   Laut encourages artists to break free from popular representations of the west. She credits influential eastern artist Frederick Remington for popularizing images of the western frontier through his famous illustrations, some of which he contributed to her earlier work. However, while praising his skill, particularly in his later paintings, she laments that “the illustrator suffers the limitations of his craft—centerpiece, foreshortened foreground, emphasis and overemphasis of shadows to bring out the lights in blacks and whites” (19). The physical limitations of “foreshortened foreground” evoke the restricted scale of illustrations (in order to comply with publishing formats) that curb the Sight/Knowledge of the reading public. As well, her emphasis on the embellished contrasts between black and white in illustrations further suggests the kind of overly simplified and potentially dogmatic constraints on the reader’s perspective in the case of illustrations. Laut also promotes artists who are actually from western settings, including famous painter Charlie Russell and a Blackfoot sculptor, whom she refers to as Clark. In reference to these two men, she claims that “both are preserving, in an art peculiarly Northwestern, a life that will be a passing memory in ten years” (21). Juxtaposed with her criticism of illustrations, Laut’s discussion of a painter and sculptor suggests that these other art forms offer greater Perspective/Objectivity than the art of illustration. In recommending art forms that are literally outside the bounds of her own book, she challenges the reader to avoid investing in any one particular representation of the west. Her promotion of western artists, particularly an Aboriginal sculptor, encourages a broadening of cultural understandings of the west outside of dominant eastern stereotypes. As well, her suggestion that these artists preserve ways of life that are disappearing emphasizes the important role that art plays in recording and influencing cultural Movement/Change.146 She suggests that cultural literacy is an important responsibility in order to better understand and influence the definition and direction of cultural progress.   256   Laut’s own use of photography as opposed to illustration associates the former with an increased level of accuracy of Sight/Knowledge. She deliberately includes a photograph of an Aboriginal man amidst her discussion of frontier artists (See Fig 6.4). Laut’s insistence that readers familiarize themselves with art that goes beyond stereotypes of the west is tied directly to her concern for Aboriginal people because she not only recommends an Aboriginal artist, but also insists that real artists of the frontier have a responsibility to capture ways of life that “are passing forever” (21). Accordingly, she includes a photograph of an Aboriginal man, along with the caption, “The Last of Their Kind.” Captured in a profile view, the man sits in the foreground of the photograph, leaning against what appears to be a dead tree and dressed in traditional clothing, while holding what resembles an arrow. He directs his head upward as though looking into the distant horizon. The absence of any specific information in the caption, along with the contrived pose of the figure, evokes a romanticized, elegiac portrait that is overly generalized and staged. However, the photograph acts as a reminder of the presence of Aboriginal people on the frontier. The starkness of the man’s silhouette against the natural surroundings suggests a kind of Perspective/Objectivity that is further implied in his distant gaze toward an unseen horizon. The sense of mystery as to what he Sees/Knows portrays Aboriginal perspectives on the frontier as existing beyond the grasp of biased eastern representations. Laut’s inclusion of this photograph suggests the importance of more realistic representations of the west, and of an awareness of the limitations on the part of eastern artists to fully understand or capture the diversity and complexity of the cultures and landscapes of which the west consists. One of the most interesting photographs that Laut includes of Aboriginal people attempts to offer a specific glimpse into alternative cultural practices of representing Aboriginal people. In the chapter, “A Woodland World,” Laut provides a photograph of three Aboriginal figures sitting   257   in a circle in front of two large teepees, while engaged in what appears to be a serious discussion (See Fig 6.5). The caption reads, “James Willard Schultz, Tail-Feathers Coming Over the Hill And Eagle Child in conference” (148). This caption lends more cultural specificity to Laut’s photographic eye because of her detailed reference to each man by name. As well, unlike the figure in the previous photograph (See Fig 6.4), the three subjects in this case seem to be much less posed. They appear in relaxed and natural positions and are either unaware of or indifferent to the photographer’s gaze, to the point that the back of one of the figures is completely turned on the camera. More importantly, their engagement in a serious dialogue suggests a culturally specific, complex, and distinct way of life that Laut suggests is not only important to respect and preserve, but which is also beyond the biased and subjective grasp of the eastern outsider. Laut further challenges readers to more fully consider the cultural diversity of the west by trying to speak on behalf of Aboriginal people. She quotes a Blackfoot man named Eli Gardapie: “‘In Canada, it is different,’ he said. ‘There, the Indians can always retreat to good hunting grounds farther north as the white settlers cut off the lands; but here—our lands are gone’” (52). In this passage, she reminds readers that cultural anxieties about the receding frontier take on a whole new meaning for those people who originally inhabited the land. She also seems to recognize that the idea of Canada as the last northern frontier has different connotations for Aboriginal people. Movement into western Canada is no longer just a trope—a symbol of American cultural progress—but rather a matter of necessity, of survival. Laut’s inclusion of this passage emphasizes her attempt to portray a broader and more accurate representation of the west. Her matter-of-fact statement, “That was the Indian point of view” (53), draws directly on the language of visual representation to show the way that eastern authors impose racialized imperialist perspectives on the west. Her attempt to make readers See/Know the frontier from an   258   alternative Aboriginal perspective indicates her commitment to challenging dominant racialized attitudes that inform eastern representations of the west. By guiding readers toward alternative ways of Seeing, Laut encourages us to Know the west for ourselves, while also recognizing and engaging in a multiplicity of perspectives. 6.7 Wilderness Conservation in Enchanted Trails of Glacier Park One of the most common motifs throughout the text is Laut’s insistence that women take physical precautions in the wilderness, and she extends this warning to represent the value of having socially responsible attitudes to westward expansion. At one point, she describes her own personal experience of learning the importance of trail safety while travelling through the Rockies on her horse: “I had to make her shut her eyes and walk the central plank to get her across at a run before the night train came. We were on the bridge at six thirty. The train came at seven. Never again off trails for me!” (132). In a manner reminiscent of Gallatin’s struggles to control her horse, Laut describes her personal Impediment/Difficulty here as a cultural rite of passage that she applies to her readers. Like Gallatin, Laut emphasizes the importance of learning Bodily/Self- Control through an image of perilously negotiating the edges of Bounded Locations/States. The narrowness of the bridge implies the pushing of Bounded Locations/States in frontier revival literature, while the need to stay in the Containment of the path indicates her adherence to a heroic model of Self within such literature. Her exaggerated difficulty in staying in the Bounded Location of the path reminds us that for women travellers, the struggle of the westward journey consists not only in pushing the cultural boundaries of the traveller’s State, but also in fitting into the very traveller role to begin with. Her empathy with the horse in this passage connects her   259   more marginalized female perspective on the frontier to an increased identification with the surrounding landscape and animals. She further extends her own experience and warning to readers: “Keep on the trail; and with warm clothing, water-proof matches, a jack knife and a good alpenstock, you are as safe in Glacier Park as in your own home” (131). By comparing staying “on the trail” to the safety of “your own home,” Laut associates the Bounded Location/State of female domesticity with established paths in the wilderness. Her suggestion that the paths offer the safety of the home evokes the confinement and protection associated with the SC metaphor. As with Schäffer, this comparison between the wilderness and the domestic sphere associates the Location of the wilderness with a new State of female identity, while also implying an increased Perspective/Objectivity on female identity. And, as in The New North, the identification with the landscape as home employs this new female perspective on the land to challenge notions of the Canadian frontier as a threatening or uninhabited space. Laut’s focus on staying on the trail emphasizes the struggle of women travellers to balance their conflicting roles in the wilderness. She connects this balancing act to a more respectful and humanizing approach to the wilderness itself. Laut extends this alternative perspective on the wilderness to her readers in general. She warns, “Never—never—never—absolutely never go off the trail—especially above timber line on the bare rocks where you feel so safe because you can see over tree tops” (128), emphasizing the risk of get lost by losing sight of familiar landmarks. This image of being able to see above the tree-tops indicates the OS metaphor because the increased Sight/Knowledge outside the Bounded Location/State of the trees offers an exhilarating Perspective/Objectivity. However, Laut cautions against this illusion of control, indicating that one must be even more vigilant, once attaining such perspective, about returning to the Bounded Location/State of the trail. She suggests that   260   increased perspective offers Sight/Knowledge that differs from the more close-up, immediate dangers of the wilderness. Laut cautions the reader about investing too strongly in the Destination/Goal of Perspective/Objectivity on the trail by suggesting that unrestrained Sight/Knowledge or Movement/Change offer an illusion of independence and control. As a female traveller, she is forced to be more vigilant about avoiding risks both on the trail and in relation to her readers. She suggests that travellers should acknowledge their ultimate fallibility and subjectivity on the trail: “Physically, man, woman, child, old or young—is safe if one keeps on the trail. Spiritually, also, I think that holds good” (124). Laut reminds readers that keeping “on the trail” is an important lesson that can be learned from the vigilance of female travellers. Her observation that this is not merely practical, but also spiritual, advice indicates that the Bounded Locations of trails represent abstract States of cultural progress. Crucially, she reminds readers that such progress should entail not unrestrained Movement/Change, but rather a sense of balance and responsibility. Laut presents female individualism in the wilderness as a model for more eco-conscious Destinations/Goals. She emphasizes her own preference for solitude on the trail, stating that “[m]an is a sociable animal. In the wilds, I am a slightly unsociable one” (125). The phrase “social animal” describes easterners’ travels in western wilderness settings as a kind of parallel to, or an expression of, eastern social structures. Her preference for being antisocial reminds the reader that her western travels are more of an escape from the bounds of social convention than a way of reasserting her eastern, urban perspective on the west. Her perspective as a female writer travelling in a female body disrupts the abstract and universalizing function of the word “man” and indicates that her gendered perspective informs her more alternative approach to western travel and her unwillingness to simply assert the cultural norms of her own eastern background.147   261   Furthermore, her use of the word “animal” suggests a kind of female solidarity with her surroundings based on the objectification of both women and nature in wilderness literature. Her identification with the wilderness emphasizes that she travels as a means of escape from the very literary conventions that inscribe female experience and exploit nature. Interestingly, Laut also identifies with modern technological advances, including the car, as a way of expressing the newfound mobility and freedom of women travellers to access the wilderness: “Personally,” she says, “I like a private boat or a private car; for I like to get my own impressions first-hand without having them dinned into my ears by people around me” (124). She connects the Bounded Location of private vehicles to a State of increased independence—particularly an independence of Sight/Knowledge. She parallels the Bounded Location of these vehicles with that of her own body when referring to her desire to avoid having other people’s impressions “dinned” into her ears. By connecting these two levels of boundedness, Laut emphasizes that her own increased freedom as a female traveller represents increased cultural progress, and also succeeds in transcending imperialist or nationalist concerns. Laut’s insistence on experiencing the landscape for herself suggests a desire to perceive the landscape and to re-imagine North American cultural progress in a way that avoids bias. Like Schäffer, Laut explicitly extends this independence in the wilderness to a more eco- conscious approach. She declares, “I never climb mountains for records. I climb them for view” (69). The idea of recording her climbs indicates the importance of material documentation in expressing the cultural significance of wilderness travel. However, her interest in “view” prioritizes the Sight/Knowledge of the individual over the Destination/Goal of cultural conquest. Her interest in the subjective experience of travelling in the wilderness suggests that individual experience is more accurate or less deceptive than official and inevitably biased cultural attempts   262   to objectively document the landscape. Laut’s interest in receiving and entering into a kind of subjective dialogue with the surrounding wilderness reflects her alternative female perspective on the land by prioritizing the subjectivity of individual experience over traditional goals of conquest. Not only does this subjectivity represent a more respectful and conservation minded approach, but it also appeals to the ideals of individualism at the heart of wilderness literature. Laut also focusses on images of the wilderness as a sanctuary that offers freedom from social constraints and yet still represents ideals of social responsibility. Like Schäffer, Laut idealizes the wilderness as a female utopian space near the beginning of her text. She reminds the reader that “[n]ature has protected her sanctuary. Those who penetrate these mysteries have to climb, and climb humbly” (19). This personification of nature as female echoes dominant objectifications of the landscape as a female body, particularly in the use of the word “penetration.” However, echoing Schäffer’s imagery, Laut’s description of this female sanctuary indicates an identification with the land from a female perspective as a Bounded Location/State of freedom from restrictive gender norms. Furthermore, her discussion of this female Location represents it as a State that must be treated with respect and humility. She connects the need to protect this freedom in the wilderness with the traveller’s responsibility to avoid disturbing local landscapes and cultures. On a more abstract level, this responsibility involves identifying with Movement/Change in wilderness settings without imposing conquest, violence, and destruction. By presenting this female Bounded Location/State as an elevated Destination/Goal, she further hints that the wilderness, like the precarious freedom from gender roles that she experiences while there, is a delicate environment that is, in its very freedom from society, representative of cultural progress. The national parks, for Laut, represent a balancing force against the oppressive power structures of urban, eastern culture. She sees them as sites in which to encourage more   263   responsible and equitable ways of renewing and redefining society, rather than blank slates for imperialist expansion. Laut further conveys this idea of nature as a redemptive counterpart to industrialized society in her recommendations on how to experience the wilderness: “and if you want to see it in its glory you must wander beside it and rest beneath its flowing drapery of branches and inhale its epic garden scents as of sunlight imprisoned for centuries. And watch and listen to its little sleepless sentry” (187). Images of “wander [ing]” and “rest [ing]” present ideas of Movement/Change that are not Destination/Goal oriented, but which focus on experiencing the landscape in a more reciprocal, interactive, and non-violent manner. The positioning of the reader “beside” and “beneath” presents the traveller as adjacent to Large Moving Objects/External Events in a manner that is reminiscent of earlier female travellers such as Duncan and Taylor. Laut uses synesthetic imagery to describe the traveller as a Bounded Location/State that is permeable to the wilderness. Similarly, the wilderness is a Bounded Location of a prison and a State of confinement that Laut implies can be released by the traveller’s receptiveness to the landscape. This imagery of shifting between Locations/States evokes motifs throughout women’s frontier revival literature, and is extended here to a paradigm of eco-consciousness whereby the traveller defines herself in relation, rather than in opposition, to the land. This respect for the land represents an alternative idea of cultural progress based on social responsibility rather than exploitation and conquest. Laut associates the idea of nature as sanctuary with a broader departure from capitalist ideas of cultural progress. Describing the wilderness as an escape from eastern urban values, she addresses the reader: “Think of a region where you do not chase time as a marker for gain and can forget the little pad on your desk with engagements for every hour of the day!” (28). In this   264   passage, she describes the pursuit of wealth in the city as a “chase” whereby the daily Movements of life represent the pursuit of Change through profit. Her use of this metaphor emphasizes the way that the Movement/Change of wilderness literature often expresses eastern ideas of cultural progress that reflect the capitalist interests of the eastern elite. This idea of the west as an escape from an eastern materialistic realm draws on the OS metaphor to describe the wilderness as a place of unbridled Movement/Change outside of the protections and restrictions of urban Bounded Locations/States. Laut suggests that the confinements of the east lie not in the domestic sphere, or in some kind of oppressive femininity, but rather in the patriarchal, industrial, capitalist system. She further goes against masculinist ideas of Movement/Change and Destinations/Goals in the wilderness when she reminds us that “[i]t is not haste that has made civilization. It is the spiritual quality inside the husk of civilization” (29). Like Cameron and Schäffer, she challenges readers’ expectations by presenting images of idealized Bounded Locations/States in the wilderness. Her declaration that “haste” has not “made civilization” troubles the familiar masculinist and imperialist focus on Movement toward fixed Destinations as a means of achieving cultural Goals of Change in the wilderness. Instead, the more domestic image of the wilderness as a Bounded Location/State draws on the ESSENTIAL IS CENTRAL metaphor to associate the Destination/Goal of cultural progress with ideas of protection and restriction rather than Movement/Change. This identification with containment in the wilderness extends her female perspective to promote the conservation of nature, and more socially responsible and equitable ideals of cultural progress.   265   6.8 Conclusion Like preceding female frontier revival authors, Schäffer and Laut live and explore the cultural transitions of their day through the female body. Duncan, Taylor, Gallatin, and Cameron focus on the female body in their texts as a way of proving their capabilities in the wilderness and their capabilities as publically visible and outspoken figures who test and redefine the boundaries of citizenship, identity, and progress. What sets Schäffer and Laut apart from these earlier writers is their increased comfort and ease in entering into such public dialogues. Using familiar physical motifs of preceding women travellers, they extend their gendered perspectives to issues of Aboriginal rights and environmental conservation—proposing a broader critique of the underlying social inequalities beneath ultra-capitalist and imperialist perspectives on cultural progress. The shared goal that stands out in these texts is not to engage in combative political debate, but rather to start a dialogue about peace. Both Schäffer and Laut make a point of explicitly rejecting familiar Destinations/Goals, choosing instead to “learn daily those secrets which dear Mother Nature is so willing to tell to those who seek” (Schäffer 18)—and to “climb . . . for [the] view” (Laut 69). Paradoxically, it is in this search for individual solitude and balance on the trail that they propose an alternative perspective on the land and its inhabitants and on cultural identity itself. Schäffer and Laut subtly draw on familiar motifs of the female body in the wilderness to associate their gendered perspective with broader social critiques. First of all, they appropriate motifs of Movement/Change such as pushing horizons or following paths of intercontinental expansion as a way of escaping the restrictive gender norms of the city. They identify with alternative Destinations/Goals of individual solitude so as to prioritize a respect for nature and Aboriginal people and to re-envision cultural progress as the pursuit of peace, balance, and   266   equality. They associate their States of freedom on the trail with Bounded Locations that direct a more domestic lens toward the wilderness. These idealized Bounded Locations/States evoke the ESSENTIAL IS CENTRAL metaphor and connotations of protection of the Self relating to Containment. They remind readers that obstructions to cultural progress emerge not in the private sphere, but in women’s forced confinement to that sphere or in rigid perceptions about women’s domestic roles. Their reimagining of the wilderness as utopian bounded spaces presents women’s experiences in the domestic sphere as a valuable alternative model to masculinist conceptions of cultural progress as an imbalanced prioritization of extreme Movement/Change. This domestic perspective on the surrounding landscape emphasizes the value of conservation, sustainability, and the preservation of Aboriginal cultures. Their insistence on interacting with the wilderness and its inhabitants in a way that leaves minimal negative impact emphasizes a new concept of cultural progress as a form of sustainable Movement/Change that does not involve violence and exploitation. As well, the necessity and ability to shift in and out of Locations/States, which tends to be fraught with tension in earlier works, takes on more of a sense of ease in the texts of Schäffer and Laut. This shifting in and out of Bounded Locations/States emphasizes their subjective and relational perspective on the frontier, and provides a new model for cultural identity as more self- critical, diverse, and fluid in its ongoing self-redefinition. Their skillful use of photography presents these motifs within a dialogue about the representation of the wilderness and Aboriginal inhabitants of the areas that they explore. Schäffer and Laut acknowledge technological advances in photography and film and hint at an increased urgency for cultural literacy amidst the mass consumption of popular images of the west. They employ photography as a way of situating the female experience of the wilderness in a wider spectrum of cultural issues so as to acknowledge the diversity of ways in which one can See   267   and Know the frontier experience, and to encourage a more self-aware, sustainable, and inclusive dialogue about cultural progress. 6.9 Notes to Chapter 6                                                                                                                 123 One of the major backdrops to the writing of Schäffer and Laut is the growth of conservation movements in North America. In Nash’s The Call of the Wild, he shows that the American Conservation movement took place at the turn of the twentieth century as a reaction to the economic threat of diminishing natural resources. Edward G. White also explores in The Eastern Establishment and the Western Experience, how during this time, Roosevelt and his advisors attempted to promote the conservation of national forests, resources, and sections of land (178). White explores Roosevelt’s commitment to accommodating the increased industrialization of the east, alongside his fervent idealization of rural, non-capitalist values in the west (178). The idea of sustainability as a way of accommodating industry, while prioritizing conservation, is a contradictory element that runs throughout frontier revival literature. In National Parks: the American experience, Alfred Runte describes the formation of American national parks as stemming from a larger cultural debate about “what should the nation preserve—and how” (1). He notes that national parks ultimately helped to link ideas of public with ideas of protection (9). Similarly, Schäffer’s and Laut’s interest in conservation re-envisions ideas of cultural identity as based more on a sense of responsibility and sustainability, than on unbridled competition and profit. In National Parks and the Woman's Voice: A History, Polly Welts Kaufman also points out that women were a crucial part of historical efforts to preserve national wilderness sites (xxxvii). She notes that women tended to either participate in dominant masculinist approaches to the   268                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         national parks, or else “create their own goals based on their own values, and work as outsiders to bring the desired change” (xxxvi). Schäffer and Laut are examples of how women may have also adopted seemingly gender-neutral perspectives on the national parks as a way of veiling what were actually quite gendered and social justice oriented models of eco-consciousness. 124 Famous English novelist Mrs. Humphrey Ward wrote a book inspired by Schäffer called Lady Merton, Colonist (E.J. Hart 10). 125 Elsie Park Gowan and Sharon Stearns have both adapted Schäffer’s story for theatre (Skidmore 289). See Gowan; Stearns. 126 Beck’s No Ordinary Woman helps to contextualize Schäffer’s participation in nature movements of her time. 127 The slightly awkward grammatical phrasing in this passage can be explained by Schäffer’s shift from a more general discussion of a symbolic horizon that sometimes “seems restricted” (19) to a personal admission that she and Mollie Adams “seemed to have reached that horizon” (19). 128 However, MacFarlane argues that “[t]he photograph highlights Schäffer as . . . the lady adventurer in control of herself and her horse and comfortable with her place” and also “erases considerable money, effort, equipment, and hired expertise that made such an identity possible” (114). In other words, despite the peaceful nature of the photograph, Schäffer asserts herself as a confident, authoritative figure in relation to her surroundings. As well, what MacFarlane points out as the highly posed nature of the photograph (particularly in comparison with the candid, awkward style of Cameron’s photos) conveys what Wexler refers to as “the innocent eye” (6) of turn of the century female photojournalists in that it couches imperialist discourse in scenes of apparent peace and domesticity (6).   269                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         129 Lucy Lippard explains that Sampson Beaver, a Stoney Aboriginal man who Schäffer befriends on the trail, gave Schäffer a hand-drawn map to Maligne lake, which led to her travelling party subsequently becoming known as the first group of white people to access the lake (420). She also returned to survey Maligne Lake in 1911 (Lippard 420). 130 For fuller discussions of the links between motifs of domesticity and imperialism see: Greenberg; Romero; Wexler. 131 Schäffer refers to him as remarkable because of his apparent lack of surprise in response to meeting her in the wilderness. 132 Schäffer describes herself as feeling heroic on the return from her trip, admitting that “[a] smile of sincere admiration went round when we collected to behold our united elegance of appearance on the morning we started on our last ride” (78). This collective pride on their return echoes the formulaic cyclical journey and reassertion of cultural control in the frontier revival frame. However, she immediately contrasts this feeling of heroism with the disorienting encounter with the Kiplings. Her sense of alienation from the passing carriage represents her exclusion from dominant discourses of imperialist expansion in adventure travel. She does not fit comfortably into either the masculine or feminine standards of such discourse. Furthermore, the description of herself as looking Aboriginal also indicates that she does not comfortably conform to ideas and assumptions about race in popular adventure literature of the time. 133 In this metaphor, the self is described as an object (Lakoff and Johnson, Philosophy 270). 134 Schäffer’s more humanizing photograph of Beaver is thus a kind of acknowledgement of the fact that, as with her male peers, her own explorations in the wilderness, often occur not only at the expense of Aboriginal people, but also through their help in navigating the natural and cultural   270                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         environment. She challenges her own authority in surveying and exploring Maligne Lake, not only by alluding to Sampson, but particularly in her inclusion of the map and of his photograph, both of which confront and challenge the reader. 135 While this term now carries significant racist connotations, I am cautious in applying contemporary interpretations of the word to Schäffer’s use of it. However, regardless of the specific implications of the term “squaw” during Schäffer’s time, it operates in this caption as a form of racial categorization, objectifying the woman in her photograph. 136 Lucy Lippard also interprets this photograph as establishing a friendly relationship between the subjects and the photographer so as to convey a “dialogue, an exchange” (415). She also suggests that the photo captures “a reciprocal moment (rather than a cannibalistic one)” (416). 137 As Roy points out in her discussion of Agnes Deans Cameron’s The New North, the word penetrate was common amongst male and female writers of the time to describe movement through geographical space and was part of the “literary vocabulary” of women travel writers (57). However, as Roy also reminds us, the word still has undeniably masculine connotations (57). The widespread use of this term is an example of how the language of travel is often associated with the male body and with male life experience so that women travel writers at the turn of the century adopt (often unintentionally) such masculine language. It may seem anachronistic to point out Schäffer’s use of this term, considering its prevalence amongst male and female authors. However, it is important to mention it because female frontier revival literature awakens the dead metaphors of travel writing. Words that are taken for granted as part of a shared “literary vocabulary” (Roy 57), particularly ones relating to the body, become de-familiarized in the work of female authors. 138 Frederick Jackson Turner also refers to this term (189).   271                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         139 I use Perspective/Objectivity as a way to be more specific about the kind of Bodily/Self-Control achieved in the OBJECTIVE STANDPOINT metaphor. 140 Schäffer does not seem to witness the accumulation of dead horses that writers describe in accounts of the Klondike gold rush. However, she often recounts the fatigue and perilous struggles of her and her companions’ horses and her sympathy for their plight seems to be the main basis of her overall concern about animal welfare on the trail. 141 It is actually difficult to tell who the subjects are in some of the photographs. If Laut is pictured, she does not identify herself. 142 Williams shows that the rise of tourism and the field of anthropology at the end of the nineteenth century resulted in a high demand for ethnographic images of Aboriginal people (13). She associates this wave of interest in representing Aboriginal ways of life with a commodifying imperialist gaze (13-14). As Bloom points out, The National Geographic was instrumental in legitimizing often lurid and objectifying images of Aboriginal people in the guise of scientific or ethnographic authenticity (75). She argues that “[b]y claiming that photographs showed things as they were, the underlying structure of gender, class, and race relations that determined the Geographic’s policy of voyeurism was never called into question” (75). Lippard comments on the extent to which ethnographic photography has affected our “communal ‘memory’ of Native people” (417) as “wary, pained, resigned, belligerent, and occasionally pathetic faces, ‘shot’ by nineteenth- and early twentieth-century photographers” (417). 143 Laut’s discussion of race here is an attempt to tap into anthropological or archeological ideas of ethnic and cultural groups that can supposedly be traced throughout history. Near the beginning of the book she describes an archeologist’s desire to explore “a racial trail going back to the dawn of time” (22) and says that “it is important for all the arts and literature to-day to preserve every   272                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         scrap of legend and myth and symbol from the vanishing races” (23). She adds that “[c]ould we trace their family tree, there might be a chance of tracing our own” (23). Laut seems to use the term race as a synonym for the more socially constructivist ideas of ethnicity or culture, which she sees as developing over time and involving fluid exchanges between different groups of people. While she does not seem to view the term race as an absolute, discrete, or essentialist category, she does evoke scientific discourses of natural selection in the assumption that there are more primitive, “vanishing” (22), races that are destined to die out. Furthermore, her allusion to “our own” (23) race, includes the reader in some kind of dominant racial category. In some ways, she thus associates dominant white, Anglo-Saxon culture with a kind of discrete, scientific category that, while indebted to other cultures, is a pinnacle of western civilization and evolution. 144 Lakoff and Johnson define this metaphor as mapping vertical orientation onto control (Philosophy in the Flesh 53). An example from everyday language is “[d]on’t worry! I’m on top of the situation” (Philosophy in the Flesh 53). This metaphor can be seen as embedded in turn of the century American concepts of the importance of industrial and capitalist growth. 145 For contemporary studies of the way that westerns constructed ideological visions of the frontier see Berton’s Hollywood’s Canada: The Americanization of our National Image and Tompkin’s West of Everything: The Inner Life of Westerns. 146 Laut’s discussion of artistic representations of the west raises the question of other prominent artists who contributed to the cultural iconography of western settings. Thacker points out that Canadian artists such as Paul Kane were highly influential, along with American artists such as Frederick Remington, in constructing the visual iconography associated with western frontier settings (11). He argues that these artists were part of an ongoing dialogue about western settings and that “[t]he stories, the histories, and the myths [to which they contributed] are utterly   273                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         interconnected, interdependent” (11). Other female artists and photographers also contributed in significant ways to North American concepts of frontier settings. Emily Carr’s legacy in North American frontier art offers a particularly interesting and conflicted perspective on Aboriginal cultures, and her work continues to be discussed for its combination of imperialist, feminist, and social activist concerns (Moray 73-75). As well, Frances Rooney’s study of American Edith Watson’s photographs of Canadian wilderness settings demonstrates a growing interest in how cross-border female artists contributed to North American representations of the frontier (Rooney). 147 This use of the pronoun “man” would not have been as problematic in Laut’s day as it is now and would have been used in everyday speech. However, Laut’s contrast between the pronouns “Man” and “I” subtly differentiates herself from the universalizing masculinist perspective of frontier adventure literature. She illustrates this contrast in her focus on the physical Movement/Change in Location/State that she identifies with the wilderness. Laut draws attention to the personal bodily experience of travelling in the wilderness as a woman, which contrasts with the ostensibly objective and neutral metonymic role assumed by male travellers. The gendered distinction between a feminized urban east and a more rugged masculine west was so pervasive at that time that Laut’s subtle use of pronouns to reverse this gendered expectation would cause tension in the reader. While I do not think that this strategy is explicit or necessarily intentional on Laut’s part, I see the pronoun shift as helping to convey underlying tensions in her perspective as a female traveller.     274   7 Conclusion. Coming Full Circle: Reflecting on the Women of the Frontier Revival It was then that I wanted my wild free life back again, yet step by step I was leaving it behind. -Mary Schäffer, Old Indian Trails, 78. 7.1 The Problem of Restoring Order As I reach the end of my chapters, I find myself returning, like the frontier revival authors, to the beginning of my own journey throughout this dissertation—to the question of how these authors shed light on a fundamental question for Canadian literature scholars:—“where is here?” (Frye 222). In other words, how do they illuminate the mechanisms by which we define our sense of place in Canada and Canada’s place in the world? How do they articulate and problematize such definitions? Frontier revival texts recognize both the importance of representations of movement in defining collective identities, as well as the ambiguities and problems that underlie such definitions. Frontier revival authors show that collective ideas of self relating to ideas of North American progress and westward expansion are played out through the travelling body. However, it is crucial to remember that the travelling body itself, while instantly recognizable as a symbol of collective identity building, is and was a site of heightened anxieties and ambiguities relating to the border and national identity, eastern vs. western regional identities, gender, ethnicity, and class. Because of uncertainties about changing attitudes toward women at the time, and the   275   increasingly sensationalized media exposure of the female body, frontier revival literature by women highlights the troubled yet important role of the body in performing place. As I come to the end of my discussion, I also find myself drawn back to the way that my six frontier revival authors ended their texts. As with the more conventional male frontier revival literature, there is a strong emphasis on the importance of the physical return home in restoring some kind of order. However, female frontier revival authors, while evoking this restoration at the end of their texts, complicate the very ideas of order and progress to which they refer. Returning to the Mary Schäffer quote with which I start my introduction, I cannot help noticing that each of these six texts ends with similar lingering doubts about how to define collective ideas of identity and progress when returning home. Schäffer’s description of her forward, “step by step” motion associates her Movement toward Banff with a Change in reasserting the urban, eastern, Anglo- Saxon values of her upbringing that would normally be equated with ideas of progress. However, she ironically describes this Movement/Change as actually taking her away from the freedom that she experiences on the trail. The question of “where is here?” (Frye 222) is not only central to the study of travel literature in Canada, but is also more of an urgent question for women struggling to access and contest the symbolic weight of the travelling body. In this brief conclusion, I reflect on what I see as three major stages of my work including theorizing the travelling female body within an interdisciplinary approach, finding opportunities for new kinds of comparative close readings, and paying attention to how representations of the travelling female body interact with complex cultural settings and changes over time. I address some of the questions, challenges, and broader implications of these stages of my dissertation research. I show how my work invites new directions in scholarship including increased interdisciplinary and cross-border approaches to Canadian literature, increased attention to how   276   the body conveys meaning, and more of a focus on visual culture (photography, painting, journalism, cinema, advertising) in literary close readings of travel writing. I would like to participate in and encourage further efforts to restore the work of specific cross-border women travel writers to the history of Canadian literature. The main goal of this project is to acknowledge the ways in which these texts do not fit neatly into conventional literary categories, while showing how they meaningfully engage in the complexities and ambiguities of their age, and identifying the specific and distinct vocabulary that women authors use to negotiate ideas of self. 7.2 Corporeal Cartography: Mapping my Research on the Travelling Body 7.2.1 Movement/Change: Theorizing the Travelling Body The first major stage of my dissertation, on which I focus in the introduction and chapters 2 and 3, involves figuring out how to theorize and read the female travelling body. On a broad level, I argue that motifs of physical movement in travel literature (all the more so in the genre of frontier revival literature) convey a great deal of meaning; furthermore, I show that women frontier revival authors are more self-reflexive about such meaning. My interest in reading the travelling female body in these texts requires me to find a way to define what I mean by the travelling body and to find a way of reading language on the level of the body that takes into account both experiential and cultural processes of meaning making. I use aspects of cognitive linguistics to tighten the feminist literary lens of my work. I follow in the footsteps of feminist scholars who show that the body is performative in that it acts   277   out cultural ideas, while concealing its own performativity. I argue that motifs of travel are loaded with gendered and racialized cultural meaning, even though authors may go out of their way to make them seem neutral, universal, and innate. However, cognitive linguists remind us that embodied cognition contributes to shared universal processes of meaning making that underlie thought and language. We cannot simply regard the body as inscribed and controlled by cultural norms. It is true that feminist models offer an ironically disembodied approach to embodiment by focussing so heavily on the way that abstract ideas control bodily experience. I attempt to remedy this problem in my work by focussing on the specific ways that meaning emerges through representations of the travelling body. However, contrary to Elizabeth Hart’s criticism of feminist theorists (Elizabeth Hart 30-31), Butler does not argue that the body cannot exist outside of cultural discourse. Rather, Butler points out that there is no possible way to refer to the body in language that is not mediated by cultural discourses and power relations (10).148 As a literary scholar, I argue that because there is no way, at least in terms of literary analysis, to discuss the body without touching on cultural and literary denotations, connotations, contexts, and intertexts, it is best to explore such meaning as deliberately and as exhaustively as possible. Throughout my dissertation, I attempt to show that attention to the cultural context of embodiment in feminist literary analysis is more than a politically correct attempt to fill gaps in the history of women writers in Canada. By examining the cultural significance of the seemingly neutral body in travel literature, I go beyond traditional boundaries of discipline and geography to find new and far- reaching networks of literary and cultural activity. I show that pervasive late nineteenth-century ideas about an archetypal and metonymic travelling body constitute an entire genre that has previously gone unnoticed. This genre stretches across the geographical border and sheds light on a whole historical period that deserves more attention in Canadian literature. Motifs of travelling   278   bodies in frontier revival literature reveal an eastern North American fascination with ideas about western Canada as a final North American frontier in which to expand Anglo-Saxon cultural goals and values. Examining bodily motifs in these texts allows me to pay attention to how gendered and racialized these ostensibly neutral ideas of progress are, and how American ideas of progress are extended to, and appropriated by, Canadian authors and readers through the vehicle of the white travelling body. However, as feminist scholars sometimes indicate, but neglect to fully explore, the difficulty in discussing the body outside of cultural discourse does not mean that the body itself cannot influence discourse. I borrow and build on conceptual metaphor theory and frame theory in order to provide a detailed and specific vocabulary with which to read the travelling body. While my dissertation falls outside the field of linguistics, I draw on conceptual metaphor and frame theory as a way of offering what I see as a corrective and strengthening influence on the feminist literary analysis of travel literature. I borrow the idea of frames as general knowledge structures and I study physical motifs that exist in the intersection between networks of conceptual metaphors and cultural discourses. This allows me to identify an archetypal travelling body that could not be approached or analyzed using solely feminist or cognitive linguistic literary analysis. I read the movements of the travelling body in frontier revival literature through what I show to be a complex network of specific conceptual metaphors and I interpret these metaphors in a specific literary and cultural context. Aside from figuring out how to read the travelling body, I also try to clarify as much as possible (mostly in chapter 3) the specific literary and historical context of the travel literature that I write about, as well as the interdisciplinary scholarly fields to which I contribute. It is impossible to understand the frame concept of the travelling body without fully considering the   279   specific cultural settings of these texts. For this part of my research, I build primarily on classic texts of feminist travel theory (Mills, Discourses of Difference; Pratt), as well as important and groundbreaking work in the field of Canadian women’s travel literature (Buchanan et al.; Buss; Goldman; Grace; Roy). I also draw on American scholars writing about travel, gender, and imperialism (Imbarrato; Greenberg; Wexler; Romero), and Canadian literary scholars and historians who promote interdisciplinary work in Canadian studies (Barman; Doyle; Jameson and McManus; Morrison; Mount; Pagh). I see my work as contributing most immediately to recent scholarship on Canadian travel literature and, in particular, Canadian women’s travel literature. I am indebted to the work of Canadian travel literature scholars (Barman, Constance; Buchanan et al.; Buss; Doyle; Goldman; Grace; Gerson; Kelcey; Kröller; LaFramboise; Legge; Reid; Roy; Skidmore; Waterston) whose efforts to unearth almost forgotten texts from the archives and to point out the cultural significance of Canadian female travel writers has laid an invaluable groundwork for my research. I attempt to find a way of exploring the bigger historical picture so as to connect Canadian women travellers to each other as well as to their male peers and to writers on both sides of the border. Through my study of six different authors over a period of several decades, as well as my cross-border focus, and my interest in discourses of east and west, I try to broaden the topic of Canadian women’s travel literature to show its significance for many different areas of study including fin-de-siècle east coast journalism, outdoor adventure literature, nature writers, and discourses relating to manifest destiny and the new woman. I develop a more detailed, focussed, and structured method of close reading that helps to situate and connect these texts to each other according to textual strategies.   280   7.2.2 Movement: Comparative Close Readings The second major stage of my dissertation consists of actually applying my theoretical model to comparative close readings of my six texts in order to discover how the female travelling body creates different types and patterns of meaning. Written in chronological order, these chapters— particularly, chapters 4 and 5—chart the development of my approach to close reading. Through my close readings, I also notice several important patterns such as women writers’ focus on personal Destinations/Goals and on complicating the final restoration of control at the end of the texts. One of the most important recurring motifs that I study throughout chapters 4 to 6 is that of containment. When I started out in the methodology chapters, I did not anticipate how important motifs of containment would be throughout the texts. I had assumed that motifs of forward and upward movement or of object control would predominate in the texts. In fact, the farther I get in my research, the more I find myself focussing not only on the importance of containment in these texts, but also on the ambiguities and tensions surrounding containment, and this focus persists throughout all three of my close reading chapters. Just as, if not more, important than the recurring mapping of Movement/Change in the metaphors of frontier revival literature is the equally common mapping of Bounded Locations/States. Most descriptions of movement in these texts in some way relate to containment. It seems that types, degrees, or perspectives on containment are crucial factors in describing different types of Movement/Change or Locations/States. Travellers tend to describe themselves as Moving in between, through, or at the edge of Bounded Locations as a way of illustrating types of Changes or States. The inherent tensions between the SELF AS CONTAINER and the   281   OBJECTIVE STANDPOINT metaphors convey ongoing thematic tensions in frontier revival literature, in which travellers paradoxically strive to define Locations/States in the very act of testing the limits of Locations/States. Motifs of containment have special significance in texts by female frontier revival authors for several reasons. Women are usually associated with containment in frontier revival texts as a way of representing a lack of Movement/Change in the domestic sphere. Women are either idealized as static emblems of cultural norms or demonized as obstructing the Movement/Change of progress. Women, as contained spaces, are usually associated with Bounded Locations/States, the boundaries of which male travellers either penetrate, avoid, or expand. Women travellers who take on more unconventional gender roles such as the six authors in my study challenge these familiar motifs of containment. Whether drawing attention to gendered restrictions on Movement/Change as in the case of Taylor, or playfully appropriating motifs of containment to assert alternative female perspectives as in the case of Duncan, these authors play with motifs of containment as a way of expressing their conflicted subject positions as female travellers. A strategy that all six women have in common is to describe themselves as occupying multiple different Locations/States or shifting between Locations/States. Such changeability expresses an increased self-awareness of sensations of fluidity, conflict, liminality, marginalization, and social critique associated with their gendered perspectives. This metaphor play emerges as specific, textual strategies by which these authors express their conflicted subject positions—an aspect of women’s texts that is too often discussed in overly abstract ways. I am interested in how these women express their gendered perspective on travel by complicating motifs used by male writers. For instance, moving in between Bounded Locations/States is common in frontier revival literature. I show that an in-depth look at such strategies allows for a greater understanding of devices and thematic tensions that are present in   282   texts by men and women, but which occur in a more deliberate, nuanced, and self-reflexive way in women’s texts. 7.2.3 Change: Reading the Travelling Body Over Time The third major stage of my dissertation (occurring mostly in chapters 4-6) involves thinking about how such motifs change over time. Discussing these texts chronologically helps me to think more specifically about the rapid changes occurring between 1880 and 1930, not only in terms of major historical events or changing attitudes about gender, race, and nationalism, but also in areas of technology, media, journalism, and writing conventions that affect the style and format of frontier revival texts. Pairing authors from different sides of the border according to different and sequential time periods allows me to take note of how such changes affect, but are not necessarily limited, to Canadian literature. My reading of Duncan and Taylor helps me to establish certain key motifs of 1890s frontier revival literature such as focussing on personal Destinations/Goals and avoiding a straightforward return to order at the end of the text. In my comparison of the texts by Agnes Deans Cameron and Grace Gallatin in chapter 5, I find several ways that these authors develop earlier motifs. For instance, the use of multiple illustrations and photography (in Cameron’s text) sensationalizes the female body in order to explicitly represent the female travelling body as a challenge to gender norms. Writing at what I see as the height of frontier revival literature, Cameron and Gallatin present much more explicitly feminist personae in their texts. They play more deliberately with motifs of containment and express their sense of conflict as female travellers more deliberately through images of shifting between Locations/States.   283   I had to think most about the way the use of conceptual metaphor changes over time while writing chapter 6. Both Schäffer and Laut write in a later and more transitional style. They evoke their gendered perspective by drawing on motifs in similar ways to earlier female frontier revival authors, while extending such motifs to broader topics including Aboriginal rights and environmental concerns. Making significant use of photography, both authors present themselves as more neutral or impersonal nature photographers and Laut goes so far as to refer to cinema in her text. Their use of photography and allusions to other media extend their gendered perspective to broader philosophical, ethical, and aesthetic discussions about how to represent the west. Overall, it is useful to pay attention to how metaphor use evolves over time. It would be a mistake to see a frame such as the frontier revival frame as overly fixed or permanent. In the case of frontier revival literature, I argue that from 1880 to 1930, female frontier revival authors establish a set of recurring motifs in their use of conceptual metaphor. These motifs, which are then adopted by writers such as Cameron and Gallatin, are given intense media exposure, and are deliberately and recognizably imbued with feminist and suffragist ideology. They later become inflected by the more objective and pseudo-scientific discourse of nature journalism so as to connect feminist ideals to broader social issues. It can be helpful to think of metaphor use as occurring in waves of relatively increased and decreased self-reflexivity around embodiment. It would also be useful to explore further how the recurring use of metaphor leads to changes in frames and genres over time. For instance, while the general components of the frontier revival frame stay the same throughout this period, women’s frontier revival literature helps to make readers more aware of the frame and to associate aspects of the frame with different bodies and cultural perspectives. This very process of essentially appropriating a dominant frame can be seen as part of the way frames and genres evolve. However, certain key aspects of frames seem to be   284   more constant than others. For instance, certain basic aspects of the frontier revival frame can be seen as underlying literary epics such as The Odyssey. It would be interesting to inquire further into the role of women authors in drawing attention to the more culturally and historically specific aspects of frames that evolve over time. 7.3 New Directions: Possibilities for Future Research In terms of possible directions for future research, I hope to encourage work in a range of time periods, geographies, and genres of literature about how representations of the body convey conceptual metaphor. In order to make conceptual metaphor and/or frame theory relevant to either cognitive linguistics or literary studies it is necessary to move beyond identifying basic metaphors. We must identify networks of metaphors and engage in a close literary analysis of such metaphors that is informed by cultural and historical research. Studying recurring frames and networks of metaphors can provide insight into how genres take shape and change over time across geographical or national boundaries. More work needs to be done on reading conceptual metaphor in literature with a focus on the body, especially literature by women. Continued work in this area will help to provide a more structured and specific vocabulary with which to understand representations of the body in literature and how women authors use a corporeal vocabulary to write in and against genres. Visual aspects of these texts also strike me as being important and deserving of much more sustained and detailed attention than I am able to give them here. Indeed, photography and illustration are central to representations of the body in frontier revival literature. More work needs to be done on gendered visual representations of the body in frontier revival literature, with   285   an awareness of the visually sensationalized female travelling body in print journalism and novels of the time and even in the burgeoning medium of cinema. I hope to encourage several other developments in the study of Canadian literature. I would like to promote a stronger emphasis on cross-border women’s writing in Canadian literary scholarship. I wish to further explore the importance of transnational and cross-border influences on women writers at the turn of the twentieth century and the feeling of “placelessness” (Buchanan et al. 33) that such authors express in their work. Studies of fin-de-siècle cross-border Canadian writers (Doyle; Mount) often focus on male writers, while neglecting the prominent role of women in entering journalism and publishing circles at the time. I want to encourage more detailed studies of key figures of the frontier revival genre including several women discussed in this dissertation. Key work has been done on Canadian women travel writers (Barman, Constance; Buchanan et al.; Gerson; Grace; Roy) and I am hoping that more can be done to study the literary strategies of these writers and to contextualize them in relation to each other, to male writers of the time, to American writers, and to various cross-border cultural discourses. One of the most rewarding challenges of this dissertation is trying to find a way of talking about these texts that does what neither feminist literary analysis nor conceptual metaphor and frame theory can do on their own, while also finding a way to make my work intelligible to, and legitimate in, these somewhat disparate disciplines. I would like to continue to take up this challenge by helping to find ways of reading and interpreting the vast corporeal cartography of Canadian travel literature. The very ambiguities and questions that linger in the process of defining Canadian identity and literature are what define us. The travelling body is a moving target, a palimpsest, of these culturally defining debates.   286   My work can also be seen as falling into the broader category of language and gender studies. Encouraging work on Canadian travel literature in this interdisciplinary field would be a useful way of approaching the study of women’s literature with an emphasis on specific linguistic, rhetorical, and literary close reading tools. Exploring the interconnections between language and gender helps to uncover textual strategies used by women writers, which in turn allows us to show how literature by women is connected to that of other male and female writers on both sides of the border. Promoting the field of language and gender in the study of Canadian literature would help to show how gender and the gendered body relate to language and how gendered language practices shed light on more general processes of meaning making. 7.4 As Far as You Can Go: Final Thoughts The literal movement of westward expansion through immigration and industry between 1880 and 1930 remains a formative and yet elusive influence on ideas of Canadian and North American identity. In many ways, frontier revival texts allow us to try to make sense of this movement—to relive it again and again—through images of the travelling body. Frontier revival texts provide moments of movement that are ironically frozen in time in orderly snapshots of a disorderly event that spanned borders and saw vast migrations, confrontations, and interactions across boundaries of geography, gender, and race. In keeping with the palimpsest metaphor, the female travelling body is interesting in these texts because it is more written upon than the male travelling body; it negotiates more layers of meaning. However, this metaphor does not fully hold because the body is not only written upon, but is also writing, creative, experiential, alive. The female travelling body is more intertextual and self-aware than the male travelling body, both in the extent to which   287   it rewrites and is written upon, and also in the extent to which it acknowledges interchange between experiential and cultural knowledge. Schäffer’s passing glimpse into Rudyard Kipling’s carriage on her reluctant return from the wilderness illustrates feminist perspectives on frontier revival literature. The Movement/Change of female frontier revival authors does not just go from here to there; it asks, where is here? Unlike male frontier revival authors, women writers look for an answer in the indeterminacy of the question. They look to the tensions held in balance between the role of the travelling body in creating and carrying meaning, and between the significance and the fluidity of such meaning. Far from simply moving from place to place, or even just making an empty intellectual gesture, their bodies acknowledge specific cultural conflicts in travel literature relating to real world issues of empire, borders, national identity, citizenship, gender, class, and race. This perspective on where and who we are waits for us to meet its gaze, to acknowledge, uncover, debate and interpret, and to see ourselves in the rich language of the female travelling body. 7.5 Notes to Chapter 7                                                                                                                 148 One of the challenges here is to remember that embodied cognition contributes to meaning making (to understanding the world through the body), while all language directly relating to the body or stemming from the body is also influenced by cultural discourse. This tension between embodied cognition and cultural discourse should not be seen as one that can be either ignored or resolved. Rather, it needs to be explored as a defining source of meaning in literary texts and one that contributes to the development of frames.   288   Figures Figure 1.1 Frame Diagram. Frontier Revival Frame 1) traveller 2) westward journey 3) struggle 4) return Conceptual   Metaphors:   -­‐SELF-­‐CONTROL   IS  BODILY   CONTROL   -­‐GENERIC  IS   SPECIFIC   -­‐LOCATIONAL   EVENT   STRUCTURE   -­‐LOCATIONAL   SELF   -­‐SELF  AS   CONTAINER   -­‐OBJECTIVE   STANDPOINT   Cultural Discourses: -manifest destiny -western Canada as the last North American frontier -the strenuous life -east-coast nature writing -suffrage -the new woman   289   Figure 3.1 Anon, “You Feel with Wonder that you are not doing Anything very Extraordinary at all.” Sara Jeannette Duncan, A Social Departure: How Orthodocia and I Went Round the World By Ourselves, (London, Edinburgh, Dublin, and New York: Thomas Nelson & Sons, 1890), 96.   290   Figure 5.1 E.M. Ashe, “I Could not Keep Away from his Hoofs,” Grace Gallatin, A Woman Tenderfoot, (New York: Doubleday, Page and Co, 1900), 309.   291   Figure 5.2 Agnes Deans Cameron, “A Magnificent Trophy,” Agnes Deans Cameron, The New North: Being Some Account of a Woman’s Journey through Canada to the Arctic, 1909 (New York & London: D. Appleton and Company, 1910), ii, Frontispiece.   292   Figure 5.3 Agnes Deans Cameron, “Cannibal Louise, Her Little Girl, and Miss Cameron,” Agnes Deans Cameron, The New North: Being Some Account of a Woman’s Journey through Canada to the Arctic, 1909, (New York & London: D. Appleton and Company, 1910), 363.   293   Figure 6.1 Mary Schäffer, “Nibs and His Mistress,” Mary Schäffer, Old Indian Trails: Incidents of Camp and Trail Life, Covering Two Years’ Exploration through the Rocky Mountains of Canada, (Toronto: William Briggs. New York: G.P. Putnam’s Sons, 1911), n.pag., Frontispiece.   294   Figure 6.2 Mary Schäffer, “When I Saw the Last of those Four Men I Knew What was Going to Happen,” Mary Schäffer, Old Indian Trails: Incidents of Camp and Trail Life, Covering Two Years’ Exploration through the Rocky Mountains of Canada, (Toronto: William Briggs; New York: G.P. Putnam’s Sons, 1911), 279.   295   Figure 6.3 Mary Schäffer, “Sampson Beaver, His Squaw, and Little Frances Louise,” Mary Schäffer, Old Indian Trails: Incidents of Camp and Trail Life, Covering Two Years’ Exploration through the Rocky Mountains of Canada by Mary Schäffer, (Toronto: William Briggs; New York: G.P. Putnam’s Sons, 1911), 181.   296   Figure 6.4 Agnes Laut, “The Last of Their Kind,” Agnes Laut, Enchanted Trails of Glacier Park, (New York: Robert M. 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