P. G. (Pelham Grenville) Wodehouse - "Jill the Reckless"

Edward Bellamy - "The Duke of Stockbridge"

Thorstein Veblen - "An Inquiry Into The Nature Of Peace And The Terms Of Its Perpetuation"

Alexandre Dumas - "Bric à brac"

Annual Bibliography of Commonwealth Literature 2007
This paper argues that discourses of love in Ghanaian market literature for youth offer a view into complex negotiations of agency and empowerment. Drawing on Deborah Durham's notion of youth as "social `shifters'" and Francis Nyamnjoh's conception of the "interconnectedness" of agency, I take Ghanaian market literature as one specific case of how African literature for youth foregrounds questions of continuity and change as African societies enter into increasingly complex global relations. In this literature for youth, received notions of love, often constructed out of impressions from American pop and hip hop music, carry new notions of agency that compete with existing "domesticated" forms. Authors like Ike Tandoh and Evelyn Tay employ discourses of love to offer youth alternative avenues for empowerment in a context of socio-economic disenfranchizement. In a creative process of "straddling", this writing both reveals and reproduces the contradictions that obtain in youth configurations of agency.

Awful Disclosures

M >> Maria Monk >> Awful Disclosures




In spite, however, of our instructions and warnings, our fears and
penances, such doubts would intrude; and I have often indulged them for
a time, and at length, yielding to the belief that I was wrong in giving
place to them, would confess them, and undergo with cheerfulness such
new penances as I was loaded with. Others too would occasionally
entertain and privately express such doubts; though we all had been most
solemnly warned by the cruel murder of Saint Francis. Occasionally some
of the nuns would go further, and resist the restraints or punishments
imposed upon them; and it was not uncommon to hear screams, sometimes of
a most piercing and terrific kind, from nuns suffering under discipline.

Some of my readers may feel disposed to exclaim against me, for
believing things, which will strike them as so monstrous and abominable.
To such, I would say, without pretending to justify myself--You know
little of the position in which I was placed: in the first place,
ignorant of any other religions doctrines; and in the second, met at
every moment by some ingenious argument, and the example of a large
community, who received all the instructions of the priests as of
undoubted truth, and practised upon them. Of the variety and
speciousness of the arguments used, you cannot have any correct idea.
They were often so ready with replies, examples, anecdotes and
authorities, to enforce their doctrines, that it seemed to me they could
never have learnt it all from books, but must have been taught by wicked
spirits. Indeed, when I reflect upon their conversations, I am
astonished at their art and address, and find it difficult to account
for their subtlety and success in influencing my mind, and persuading me
to anything they pleased. It seems to me, that hardly anybody would be
safe in their hands. If you were to go to confession twice, I believe
you would feel very differently from what you do now. They have such a
way of avoiding one thing, and speaking of another, of affirming this,
and doubting or disputing that, of quoting authorities, and speaking of
wonders and miracles recently performed, in confirmation of what they
teach, as familiarly known to persons whom they call by name, and whom
they pretend to offer as witnesses, though they never give you an
opportunity to speak with them--these, and many other means, they use in
such away, that they always blinded my mind, and I should think, would
blind the minds of others.




CHAPTER XVII.

Treatment of young Infants in the Convent--Talking in Sleep--Amusements
--Ceremonies at the public interment of deceased Nuns--Sudden
disappearance of the Old Superior--Introduction of the new one--
Superstition--Alarm of a Nun--Difficulty of Communication with other
Nuns.


It will be recollected, that I was informed immediately after receiving
the veil, that infants were occasionally murdered in the Convent. I was
one day in the nuns' private sick room, when I had an opportunity,
unsought for, of witnessing deeds of such a nature. It was, perhaps, a
month after the death of Saint Francis. Two little twin babes, the
children of Sainte Catharine, were brought to a priest, who was in the
room, for baptism. I was present while the ceremony was performed, with
the Superior and several of the old nuns, whose names I never knew, they
being called Ma tante, Aunt.

The priests took turns in attending to confession and catechism in the
Convent, usually three months at a time, though sometimes longer
periods. The priest then on duty was Father Larkin. He is a good-looking
European, and has a brother who is a professor in the college. He
baptized, and then put oil upon the heads of the infants, as is the
custom after baptism. They were then taken, one after another, by one of
the old nuns, in the presence of us all. She pressed her hand upon the
mouth and nose of the first, so tight that it could not breathe, and in
a few minutes, when the hand was removed, it was dead. She then took the
other, and treated it in the same way. No sound was heard, and both the
children were corpses. The greatest indifference was shown by all
present during this operation; for all, as I well knew, were long
accustomed to such scenes. The little bodies were then taken into the
cellar, thrown into the pit I have mentioned, and covered with a
quantity of lime.

I afterward saw another new-born infant treated in the same manner, in
the same place; but the actors in the scene I choose not to name, nor
the circumstances, as everything connected with it is of a peculiarly
trying and painful nature to my own feelings.

These were the only instances of infanticide I witnessed; and it seemed
to be merely owing to accident that I was then present. So far as I
know, there were no pains taken to preserve secrecy on this subject;
that is, I saw no attempt made to keep any of the inmates of the Convent
in ignorance of the murder of children. On the contrary, others were
told, as well as myself, on their first admission as veiled nuns, that
all infants born in the place were baptized and killed, without loss of
time; and I had been called to witness the murder of the three just
mentioned, only because I happened to be in the room at the time.

That others were killed in the same manner during my stay in the
nunnery, I am well assured.

How many there were I cannot tell, and having taken no account of those
I heard of, I cannot speak with precision; I believe, however, that I
learnt through nuns, that at least eighteen or twenty infants were
smothered, and secretly buried in the cellar, while I was a nun.

One of the effects of the weariness of our bodies and minds, was our
proneness to talk in our sleep. It was both ludicrous and painful to
hear the nuns repeat their prayers in the course of the night, as they
frequently did in their dreams. Required to keep our minds continually
on the stretch, both in watching our conduct, in remembering the rules
and our prayers, under the fear of the consequences of any neglect, when
we closed our eyes in sleep, we often went over again the scenes of the
day; and it was no uncommon thing for me to hear a nun repeat one or two
of our long exercises in the dead of night. Sometimes, by the time she
had finished, another, in a different part of the room, would happen to
take a similar turn, and commence a similar recitation; and I have known
cases in which several such unconscious exercises were performed, all
within an hour or two.

We had now and then a recreation day, when we were relieved from our
customary labor, and from all prayers except those for morning and
evening. The greater part of our time was then occupied with different
games, particularly backgammon and drafts, and in such conversation as
did not relate to our past lives, and the outside of the Convent.
Sometimes, however, our sports would be interrupted on such days by the
entrance of one of the priests, who would come in and propose that his
fete, the birth-day of his patron saint, should be kept by "the saints."
We saints!

Several nuns died at different times while I was in the Convent; how
many I cannot say, but there was a considerable number: I might rather
say, many in proportion to the number in the nunnery. The proportion of
deaths I am sure was very large. There were always some in the nuns'
sick-rooms, and several interments took place in the chapel. When a
Black nun is dead, the corpse is dressed as if living, and placed in the
chapel in a sitting posture, within the railing round the altar, with a
book in the hand, as if reading. Persons are then freely admitted from
the street, and some of them kneel and pray before it. No particular
notoriety is given, I believe, to this exhibition out of the Convent;
but such a case usually excites some attention.

The living nuns are required to say prayers for the delivery of their
deceased sister from purgatory, being informed, as in all other such
cases, that if she is not there, and has no need of our intercession,
our prayers are in no danger of being thrown away, as they will be set
down to the account of some of our departed friends, or at least to that
of the souls which have no acquaintances to pray for them.

It was customary for us occasionally to kneel before a dead nun thus
seated in the chapel, and I have often performed that task. It was
always painful, for the ghastly countenance being seen whenever I raised
my eyes, and the feeling that the position and dress were entirely
opposed to every idea of propriety in such a case, always made me
melancholy.

The Superior sometimes left the Convent, and was absent for an hour, or
several hours, at a time, but we never knew of it until she had
returned, and were not informed where she had been. I one day had reason
to presume that she had recently paid a visit to the priests' farm,
though I had no direct evidence that such was the fact. The priests'
farm is a fine tract of land belonging to the Seminary, a little
distance from the city, near the Lachine road, with a large old-
fashioned edifice upon it. I happened to be in the Superior's room on
the day alluded to, when she made some remark on the plainness and
poverty of her furniture. I replied, that she was not proud, and could
not be dissatisfied on that account; she answered--

"No; but if I was, how much superior is the furniture at the priests'
farm! the poorest room there is furnished better than the best of mine."

I was one day mending the fire in the Superior's room, when a priest was
conversing with her on the scarcity of money; and I heard him say, that
very little money was received by the priests for prayers, but that the
principal part came with penances and absolutions.

One of the most remarkable and unaccountable things that happened in the
Convent, was the disappearance of the old Superior. She had performed
her customary part during the day, and had acted and appeared just as
usual. She had shown no symptoms of ill health, met with no particular
difficulty in conducting business, and no agitation, anxiety or gloom,
had been noticed in her conduct. We had no reason to suppose that during
that day she had expected anything particular to occur, any more than
the rest of us. After the close of our customary labours, and evening
lecture, she dismissed us to retire to bed, exactly in her usual manner.
The next morning the bell rung we sprang from our bed, hurried on our
clothes as usual, and proceeded to the community-room in double line, to
commence the morning exercises. There, to our surprise, we found Bishop
Lartigue; but the Superior was nowhere to be seen. The Bishop soon
addressed us, instead of her, and informed us, that a lady near him,
whom he presented to us, was now the Superior of the Convent, and
enjoined upon us the same respect and obedience which we had paid to her
predecessor.

The lady he introduced to us was one of our oldest nuns, Saint Du ----,
a very large, fleshy woman, with swelled limbs, which rendered her very
slow in walking, and often gave her great distress. Not a word was
dropped from which we could conjecture the cause of this change, nor of
the fate of the old Superior. I took the first opportunity to inquire of
one of the nuns, whom I dared talk to, what had become of her; but I
found them as ignorant as myself, though suspicious that she had been
murdered by the orders of the Bishop. Never did I obtain any light on
her mysterious disappearance. I am confident, however, that if the
Bishop wished to get rid of her privately and by foul means, he had
ample opportunities and power at his command. Jane Ray, as usual, could
not allow such an occurrence to pass by without intimating her own
suspicions more plainly than any other of the nuns would have dared to
do. She spoke out one day, in the community-room, and said, "I'm going
to have a hunt in the cellar for my old Superior."

"Hush, Jane Ray!" exclaimed some of the nuns, "you'll be punished."

"My mother used to tell me," replied Jane, "never to be afraid of the
face of a man."

It cannot be thought strange that we were superstitious. Some were more
easily terrified than others, by unaccountable sights and sounds; but
all of us believed in the power and occasional appearance of spirits,
and were ready to look for them at almost any time. I have seen several
instances of alarm caused by such superstition, and have experienced it
myself more than once. I was one day sitting mending aprons, beside one
of the old nuns, in a community-room, while the litanies were repeating;
as I was very easy to laugh, Saint Ignace or Agnes, came in, walked up
to her with much agitation, and began to whisper in her ear. She usually
talked but little, and that made me more curious to know what was the
matter with her. I overheard her say to the old nun, in much alarm, that
in the cellar from which she had just returned, she had heard the most
dreadful groans that ever came from any being. This was enough to give
me uneasiness. I could not account for the appearance of an evil spirit
in any part of the Convent, for I had been assured that the only one
ever known there, was that of the nun who had died with an unconfessed
sin, and that others were kept at a distance by the holy water that was
rather profusely used in different parts of the nunnery. Still, I
presumed that the sounds heard by Saint Ignace must have proceeded from
some devil, and I felt great dread at the thought of visiting the cellar
again. I determined to seek further information of the terrified nun;
but when I addressed her on the subject, at recreation-time, the first
opportunity I could find, she replied, that I was always trying to make
her break silence, and walked off to another group in the room, so that
I could obtain no satisfaction.

It is remarkable that in our nunnery, we were almost entirely cut off
from the means of knowing anything, even of each other. There were many
nuns whom I know nothing of to this day, after having been in the same
rooms with them every day and night for many months. There was a nun,
whom I supposed to be in the Convent, and whom I was anxious to learn
something about from the time of my entrance as a novice; but I never
was able to learn anything concerning her, not even whether she was in
the nunnery or not, whether alive or dead. She was the daughter of a
rich family, residing at Point aux Trembles, of whom I had heard my
mother speak before I entered the Convent. The name of her family I
think was Lafayette, and she was thought to be from Europe. She was
known to have taken the black veil; but as I was not acquainted with the
name of the Saint she had assumed, and I could not describe her in "the
world," all my inquiries and observations proved entirely in vain. I had
heard before my entrance into the Convent, that one of the nuns had made
her escape from it during the last war, and, once inquired about her of
the Superior. She admitted that such was the fact; but I was never able
to learn any particulars concerning her name, origin, or manner of
escape.




CHAPTER XVIII.

Disappearance of Nuns--St. Pierre--Gags--My temporary Confinement in a
Cell--The Cholera Season--How to avoid it--Occupation in the Convent
during the Pestilence--Manufacture of Wax Candles--The Election Riots--
Alarm among the Nuns--Preparations for defence--Penances.


I am unable to say how many nuns disappeared while I was in the Convent.
There were several. One was a young lady called St. Pierre, I think, but
am not certain of her name. There were two nuns by this name. I had
known her as a novice with me. She had been a novice about two years and
a half before I became one. She was rather large without being tall and
had rather dark hair and eyes. She disappeared unaccountably, and
nothing was said of her except what I heard in whispers from a few of
the nuns, as we found moments when we could speak unobserved.

Some told me they thought she must have left the Convent; and I might
have supposed so, had I not some time afterward found some of her things
lying about, which she would, in such a case, doubtless have taken with
her. I never had known any thing more of her than what I could observe
or conjecture. I had always, however, the idea that her parents or
friends were wealthy, for she sometimes received clothes and other
things, which were very rich.

Another nun, named Saint Paul, died suddenly; but as in other cases, we
knew so little, or rather were so entirely ignorant of the cause and
circumstances that we could only conjecture; and being forbidden to
converse freely on that or any other subject, thought but little about
it. I have mentioned that a number of veiled nuns thus mysteriously
disappeared during my residence among them. I cannot, perhaps, recall
them all, but I am confident there were as many as five, and I think
more. All that we knew in such cases was, that one of our number who had
appeared as usual when last observed, was nowhere to be seen, and never
was again. Mad Jane Ray, on several such occasions, would indulge in her
bold, and, as we thought, dangerous remarks. She had intimated that some
of those, who had been for a time in the Convent, were by some means
removed to make way for new ones; and it was generally the fact, that
the disappearance of one and the introduction of another into our
community, were nearly at the same time. I have repeatedly heard Jane
Ray say, with one of her significant looks, "When you appear, somebody
else disappears!"

It is unpleasant enough to distress or torture one's self; but there is
something worse in being tormented by others, especially where they
resort to force, and show a pleasure in compelling you, and leave you no
hope of escape, or opportunity to resist. I had seen the gags repeatedly
in use, and sometimes applied with a roughness which seemed rather
inhuman; but it is one thing to see and another thing to feel. There
were some of the old nuns who seemed to take pleasure in oppressing
those who fell under their displeasure. They were ready to recommend or
resort to compulsory measures, and ever ready to run for the gags. These
were kept in one of the community-rooms, in a drawer between two
closets; and there a stock of about fifty of them was always in
deposite. Sometimes a number of nuns would prove refractory at a time;
and I have seen battles commenced in which several appeared on both
sides. The disobedient were, however, soon overpowered: and to prevent
their screams from being heard beyond the walls, gagging commenced
immediately. I have seen half a dozen lying, gagged and bound at once.

I have been subjected to the same state of involuntary silence more than
once; for sometimes I became excited to a state of desperation by the
measures used against me, and then conducted in a manner perhaps not
less violent than some others. My hands had been tied behind me, and a
gag put into my mouth, sometimes with such force and rudeness as to
lacerate my lips and cause the blood to flow freely.

Treatment of this kind is apt to teach submission, and many times I have
acquiesced under orders received, or wishes expressed, with a fear of a
recurrence to some severe measures.

One day I had incurred the anger of the Superior in a greater degree
than usual, and it was ordered that I should be taken to one of the
cells. I was taken by some of the nuns, bound and gagged, carried down
the stairs in the cellar, and laid upon the floor. Not long afterward I
induced one of the nuns to request the Superior to come down and see me;
and on making some acknowledgment I was released. I will, however,
relate this story rather more in detail.

On that day I had been engaged with Jane Ray, in carrying into effect a
plan of revenge upon another person, when I fell under the vindictive
spirit of some of the old nuns, and suffered severely. The Superior
ordered me to the cells, and a scene of violence commenced which I will
not attempt to describe, nor the precise circumstances which led to it.
Suffice it to say, that after exhausting my strength, by resisting as
long as I could against several nuns, I had my hands drawn behind my
back, a leathern band passed first round my thumbs, then round my hands,
and then round my waist, and fastened. This was drawn so tight that it
cut through the flesh of my thumbs, making wounds, the scars of which
still remain. A gag was then forced into my mouth, not indeed so
violently as it sometimes was, but roughly enough; after which I was
taken by main force, and carried down into the cellar, across it almost
to the opposite extremity, and brought to the last of the second range
of cells on the left hand. The door was opened, and I was thrown in with
violence, and left alone, the door being immediately closed and bolted
on the outside. The bare ground was under me, cold and hard as if it had
been beaten down even. I lay still, in the position in which I had
fallen, as it would have been difficult for me to move, confined as I
was, and exhausted by my exertions; and the shock of my fall, and my
wretched state of desperation and fear, disinclined me from any further
attempt. I was in almost total darkness, there being nothing perceptible
except a slight glimmer of light which came in through the little window
far above me.

How long I remained in that condition I can only conjecture. It seemed
to me a long time, and must have been two or three hours. I did not
move, expecting to die there, and in a state of distress which I cannot
describe, from the tight bandage about my hands, and the gag holding my
jaws apart at their greatest extension. I am confident I must have died
before morning, if, as I then expected, I had been left there all night.
By-and-by, however, the bolt was drawn, the door opened, and Jane Ray
spoke to me in a tone of kindness. She had taken an opportunity to slip
into the cellar unnoticed on purpose to see me. She unbound the gag, and
took it out of my mouth, and told me she would do any thing to get me
out of my dungeon. If she had had the bringing of me down, she would not
have thrust me so brutally, and she would be revenged on those who had.
She offered to throw herself upon her knees before the Superior and beg
her forgiveness. To this I would not consent; but told her to ask the
Superior to come to me, as I wished to speak to her. This I had no idea
she would condescend to do; but Jane had not been gone long before the
Superior came, and asked if I had repented in the sight of God for what
I had done. I replied in the affirmative; and after a lecture of some
length on the pain I had given the Virgin Mary by my conduct, she asked
whether I was willing to ask pardon of all the nuns for the scandal I
had caused them by my behaviour. To this I made no objection; and I was
then released from my prison and my bonds, went up to the community-
room, and kneeling before all the sisters in succession begged the
forgiveness and prayers of each.

Among the marks which I still bear of the wounds received from penances
and violence, are the scars left by the belt with which I repeatedly
tortured myself, for the mortification of my spirit. These are most
distinct on my side; for although the band, which was four or five
inches in breadth, and extended round the waist, was stuck full of sharp
iron points in all parts, it was sometimes crowded most against my side,
by rocking in my chair, and the wounds were usually deeper there than
anywhere else.

My thumbs were several times cut severely by the tight drawing of the
band used to confine my arms, and the scars are still visible upon them.

The rough gagging which I several times endured wounded my lips very
much; for it was common, in that operation, to thrust the gag hard
against the teeth, and catch one or both the lips, which were sometimes
cut. The object was to stop the screams made by the offender as soon as
possible; and some of the old nuns delighted in tormenting us. A gag was
once forced into my mouth which had a large splinter upon it, and this
cut through my under lip, in front, leaving to this day a scar about
half an inch long. The same lip was several times wounded, as well as
the other; but one day worse than ever, when a narrow piece was cut off
from the left side of it, by being pinched between the gag and the under
fore-teeth; and this has left an inequality in it which is still very
observable.

One of the most shocking stories I heard of events that had occurred in
the nunnery before my acquaintance with it, was the following, which was
told me by Jane. What is uncommon, I can fix the date when I heard it.
It was on New-Year's day, 1834. The ceremonies, customary in the early
part of that day, had been performed; after mass, in the morning, the
Superior had shaken hands with all the nuns, and given us her blessing,
for she was said to have received power from heaven to do so only once a
year, and then on the first day of the year. Besides this, cakes,
raisins, &c. are distributed to the nuns on that day.

Copyright (c) 2007. topboookz.com. All rights reserved.