Why write a
book on the history of our notions of self and identity? After all, hadn’t
Charles Taylor satisfied sufficiently this need with his masterful Sources
of the Self (1989)? Dror Wahrman considers this legitimate query and
provides a couple of justifications for the project he undertakes. First, and
obviously, his book pertains only to England, and is specific to the eighteenth
century. More importantly, where Taylor was more concerned with the changing
attitudes of contemplatives (read: philosophers) on the subject, Wahrman approaches
it from the perspective of the broader culture. Thus, he notifies us that his book
”rarely marshals forth the self-aware, articulate
reflections of contemporaries on the topics of identity, categories of
identity, or self”. Those who wish to learn more, for
example, about the fascinating philosophical debates on the problem of personal
identity in early modern Britain will find sparse discussion of the usual
suspects on the topic: Locke, Shaftesbury, Butler, Hume or Reid.

Instead,
Wahrman concerns himself with the ways in which such ideas played themselves
out in the less rarefied air of the general culture. In terms of methodology,
he wishes to explore what he calls the resonance of enunciations of
identity during the period. Thus, the philosophical debates on personal
identity were simply a group of notes, sounded among other notes, without
particular privilege. Indeed, the debate could only have had resonance by
virtue of the soundbox of the general culture.

Central to
Wahrman’s book is the sudden (circa 1780) transformation from what he calls the
ancien régime of identity to the modern one. In the former, identity
boundaries were surprisingly fluid, and there was not only the possibility of
crossing them, but a good degree of tolerance for those who did so. He
considers this thesis with respect to gender and race. Regarding gender,
Wahrman navigates a wealth of texts — high and low, and everything in between —
to demonstrate that through most of the eighteenth century it was possible for
women to navigate back and forth across the blurred boundaries of gender.
Wahrman demonstrates this through a variety of cultural examples of ”gender passing”. For instance,
there was a notable genre of biographical literature of such passing, including
accounts of females who passed as male soldiers. As some of these texts
underwent re-editing and reinterpretation, post-1780 commentators treated such
accounts with either barely disguised disgust, or outright disbelief. Whereas
in mid-century women could pass as men, by century’s end it was no longer
possible for audiences to entertain the possibility of such passing: there must
have been telltale signs of femininity, and people could not really have been
taken in. Another example of  ancien régime gender passing was the
mid-century popularity of so-called ”breeches parts”, male stage roles played by female actors. An actress
could make a career out of playing such parts, and be renowned for the ease
with which she made herself indistinguishably male to an audience. All
roles might even be reversed in performance, with male parts played by women,
and female parts played by men. But again, by the end of the century this was
no longer a practice. Indeed, within the space of a decade audiences could no
longer believe that such a thing had been done, let alone have been popular. If
Wahrman is correct here, then the gender passing should be bi-directional: it
should be demonstrable that men were also successfully passing as women. On
this he provides less evidence.

According to
Wahrman, a similar transformation from the ancien to the modern regime
of identity also occurred in conceptions of race. Under the ancien régime
it was widely believed that race was a function of environment and even of
cultural practice. For example, many believed that dark-skinned races like the
Hottentots were such because from birth they greased their skins, which
subsequently turned black or tawny in the sun. In principle, if one were to
transplant a Hottentot to the more temperate English clime, and if he were to
spend enough time there, his complexion would lighten. Along with this went
supposed accounts of actual racial passing, of white settlers in North America who had been abducted and assimilated among Indians, who subsequently not
only adopted native customs and dress, but actually changed skin color.
Again, by century’s end such accounts were replaced by the familiar narrative of
race as natural and inherent.

With respect
to identity more generally, Wahrman notes the mysterious passing away of the
immense popularity of the masquerade. From being all the rage for most of the
century, it becomes the special focus of moral disapprobation and eventually
drops from the scene altogether. The masquerade can be seen as emblematic of
the passing from one identity regime to another. Where once identity was
something ”on the surface”,
to be donned and removed almost at will, it became something natural,
individual, and — perhaps ominously — indelible

All of which
leads to the question of why the transformation occurred? Moreover, why so suddenly?
Somewhat idiosyncratically, Wahrman locates the root of the sudden identity ”panic” in the American Revolution.
Intestine strife led to questions about national identity. For example, were
the American colonists to be considered fellow English? The very horror of the
notion of Englishmen killing Englishmen led some to look for a basis of fundamental
difference between the two peoples, and contributed to the more general
tendency to assign strict identities along lines of race, gender, class and
nation.

This is perhaps
the weakest part of Wahrman’s thesis. Things seem
oversimplified. For example, an adequate explanation is not given for why this
revolution in identity regimes didn’t occur in the
previous century, when Englishmen were killing Englishmen during the Civil War,
and in their very homeland. I suspect things are more complicated than Wahrman’s account would have us believe. Still, despite difficulties
of evidential selectivity, the book is a fascinating, and at times a
disconcerting reminder of the contingency of our notions of strict and
individualized identity, and of psychological therapies built upon it. If
identity is a historical artifact, then the extent to which it can have
normative or therapeutic force requires considerable thought.

©
2006 James Pratt

James Pratt is a PhD candidate
in Philosophy at York University in Toronto, Canada. His area of research is in
moral psychology. He is also completing on a book on the philosophy of Lord
Shaftesbury (1671-1713).

Categories: Philosophical