< the basic idea of The Last of the Mohicans: women are "flowers in the wilderness" that need a knight to rescue them. I don't think I've ever had to think so much about how deeply we're connected to the time in which we live. Without knowing it, all of us believe and expect certain things because of current history, literature and culture, without hardly being aware of it.
I just finished
The Last of the Mohicans for class, which was written in 1826, and started a book by Catherine Sedgwick published the year after. From these authors' point of view, they were writing about history long passed, a time in America's development they themselves hadn't seen. To them, their words were modern, flushed with new knowledge. Today Cooper comes across outrageously sexist and racist, if progressive for his time (while a good deal of Indians in
Mohicans are brutish, animalistic savages, others conform wonderfully well to the "noble savage" idea, and are admired by the white characters).
In Cooper's case, what struck me most was how
flowery his prose was. The two women in his novel can't just be weeping, helpless women; they have to "heave sobs", fall on their knees praying in thanks, emit "blistering" tears. Looks-wise, of course, both girls (I can't say 'women') possess "shining tresses" and "ruby lips" and beautiful, slender female forms (and on, and on, and on).
Sedgwick seems more intelligent than Cooper - I'm only 60 pages in, but her characters are more complex, and her style less bent to diverge in a frenzy of drama more laughable than anything. She dares to challenge the ideology behind works like
Mohicans. What's strange about Sedgwick, though, is how very prominent conservative religious beliefs are in her writing. Characters do all in their power to see that children are baptized, given 'Christian' names, and brought up solidly; any Indians encountered are potential converts living in heathenism, and directly spoken of as so. There is not the slightest bit of doubt as to this.
The spirit isn't misplaced, but the pervasive, heavy-handed way in which Sedgwick portrays her beliefs is utterly opposite to any fiction I've read published today. Completely! Modern fiction writers dislike making declarative statements about the validity of any particular religious system, unless they're addressing the topic of God Himself (or have an axe to grind, in which case they ought to be writing nonfiction). Writers today would much rather explore things
connected to a character's strong religious beliefs, such as how they make him or her act and relate to others. A scene in which the death of an unconverted pagan was bitterly mourned would NEVER be portrayed without some degree of irony, removal or outright mocking. Even Christian fiction writers allow a bit of breathing room for skeptical readers, allowing room to judge characters' words and actions as they stand rather than insisting in every scene that Christian beliefs are unequivocally right and everybody thinks so.
After 60 pages you might think these antiquated styles would become natural to read. Hardly. In 2010, Cooper and Sedgwick are still jarring, despite their insights into human nature. I wonder how popular writing today would come across to
them.
