Friday 12th December - The Studious Servant

 It's the end of the second week of Blogvent and I was hoping to get my spinning wheel mended today (first world problem? old world problem?) as a Christmas without the calming whirl of my Ashford Joy (a gorgeous wheel) is unthinkable. However, I got a flat tyre yesterday which has thrown a spanner in the works, so I have to wait until Monday to get it fixed so I am housebound. Actually, that's not a massive problem... Enough of my nonsense, on to the art!

The Studious Servant (c.1871) Théodule-Augustin Ribot

As I said in our earlier post about literate servants, I had not done with the subject, and here we have a maid having a bit of a read as she dusts. I was instantly reminded of Henry Taylor and Mary Ryan..

Prospero and Miranda (Henry Taylor and Mary Ryan) (1865) Julia Margaret Cameron

Julia Margaret Cameron might have had some rum notions of certain subjects, but she was enormously progressive when it came to the education of her maid Mary Ryan, who she took into her home after finding her and her mother in rather dire straits on Putney Common (so the official version of the story goes). Whatever the case, Mary came into Julia Margaret Cameron's home as a maid, first and foremost, but was allowed to attend the lessons that Julia's sons received.  On a visit in 1861, Henry Taylor (poet and playwright) saw Mary in a lesson with the boys and was horrified. He asked,  ‘What will become of her? If she is to be a servant, I am afraid there is no such thing as a good servant who is fond of reading' and took Mary's high spirits as being proof that you can't go around teaching the working classes to read as it does them no good and confuses them. Well, she went on to become Lady Cotton, so I'll keep reading, thanks.

Unlike our first reading maid, today's girl is pausing in her dusting to read something left out on the table. Is the implication that she is making time in her day to teach herself to read? Is that why she is the 'studious servant'? There seems to be no judgement in the title (that I can see), and she has merely tucked her duster under her arm for a moment, not discarded her tools in order to read. What is she reading?

I think it is only a book, but I'm hoping it is some scandalous papers that her master and mistress have left around, thinking she cannot read. I'm hoping it's the code to the safe. Revolution! I do beg your pardon, got a bit carried away again.

The Cooks (1862)

Actually, unlike our previous artist, I don't think there is any judgement from M. Ribot on the servants as he specialised in domestic genre scenes, starting his career with pictures of kitchens and their inhabitants. To Ribot, the cooks, maids and staff were a source of fascination that never ended and each of their tasks was given equal amounts of reverence as the Biblical scenes he also created. I think Ribot is saying that our girl is so industrious that she has time to read and clean, and as such, she is a work of art. Like Julia Margaret Cameron, I believe Ribot has no problem with a literate staff, and I wonder at the employers that felt a literate maid was a disgruntled one. Why? Because they would find other work? Because they would find out what you have been up to? Because they would read a book that told them that their life could be more enjoyable and they could be earning more money? That sounds like an employer problem, not an employee problem. I'd rather work for someone who had my best interests at heart, and I would hope that anyone willing to work for me would do so because I was a good employer and they wanted to, not because they had no other options. Out of the two scenarios which makes a better employee? 

Hmmm, I'll see you tomorrow...