The behavior of the debtors she finds in the Mint has quite a different effect on her: whereas her attitude towards her ‘Mr. Spent’ husband is of annoyed tolerance, she is horrified by these. She uses words like "sin" and "wickedness" to describe their activities. The description of them suggests, in my own point of view, that this kind of behavior is a particular interest of Defoe's work:
“...when he has thought and pored on it till he is almost mad, having no principles to support him, nothing within him or above him to comfort him, but finding the same darkness on every side, he flied to the same relief again, viz. to drink it away, debauch it away...”
Moll's narrative can exist perfectly well without this extract, which involves almost no action whatsoever. It would appear to me that Defoe thought it was important to describe how money troubles could lead to complete despair.
This book is an interesting variety of social commentary. The notion that London marriages are based on money rather than love is apparently not surprising enough in itself to add much spice to the novel, but Moll's reaction to it certainly does. Rather than complain about the immorality of mercenary marriages (she learns this lesson by heart as it was taught by the behavior of her first lover), she reasonably investigates techniques that will improve women's positions within the corrupt system.
She and her female friends are all notably women on their own: the stereotype of young girls being married to young men according to the arrangements made by their powerful parents does not hold. High mortality, especially among sailors, led to a big number of widows who needed to marry again in order to establish themselves comfortably (and one can imagine that death in childbed also left many widowers). A young girl living at home might be completely controlled by her parents, but a widow with some money of her own is in a completely different situation. She must look out for herself and negotiate for herself. Living in an urban environment also adds to the relative independence of an able to marry widow: a widow in London would be unlikely to own any land or even a house. Her wealth would be money, and she could easily move to a different neighborhood among entirely different people.
Moll's advice has nothing to do with love, and everything to do with business. Men start out with better matrimonial credit: they are not under the same time pressure to marry as women are, and there are fewer of them because of "the wars, and the sea, and trade." At the same time, property laws favored men in marriage: unless other provisions were carefully made, the wife's wealth would be under the husband's control, without the opposite being true. Moll's use of gossip and scandal is designed to reduce the captain's credit by suggesting that he is not financially reliable, and that he has a history of treating women bad: even with the lack of men, no wealthy woman would want to marry him under those circumstances. On the other hand, the fake courtship that the young lady devises increases her own credit by making her appear more desirable.
Moll's broader ideas suggest a kind of united front of women: if all women together refuse to marry men who treat them bad, a rude lover would not be able to simply abandon his fiancée and go to the next door when she talks about his rudeness with relatives and friends. This is very similar to unionization: these women would be doing the equivalent of refusing to work for less than a minimum amount. So, in economic terms: the amount of women wanting to be married is greater than the demand for wives, so women must settle for bad husbands…unless they organize, and raise their standards, putting pressure on men to shape up! (Such a Rockefelian and a syndicalism point of view, isn’t it!)
Moll manages to deceive her third husband without ever openly lying, so making it impossible for him to accuse her of the deception. Moll shows that she is willing to take substantial risks, repeatedly telling him that she is poor, relying entirely on his tendency to take men's words more seriously than those of women. He had been told, after all, by the captain, that she was rich. Moll shows a great deal of cleverness in breaking the news of her true poverty after the wedding: after first making him worry that she had nothing at all, she gave him her money in installments of about 150 guineas, so that each new sum was a welcome surprise. She also had refused to go to Virginia before they were married, so her agreement to go afterwards was another nice surprise to balance the disappointment of her finances.
I can see by Moll's clever behavior and humorous speaking that she has learned a great deal in her first two marriages, and careful observations of human behavior. She no longer depends on luck, or the benevolence of the powerful, but rather on her own wits.
The difference between colonial America as viewed by Americans, and as viewed by the colonizing English, is worth noticing. The history is set in the 17th century, long before any idea of revolution: Virginia is simply a place where is possible to earn good money. Moll does not want to live there forever, as for the play’s particular point of view: the colonies are a means to an end, and England is home.
It is not very flattering for the American ego to see that 18th century English people thought of America as an undesirable place which was habited by immigrants, slaves and convicts. It is only after American independence that Britain began to take criminals to Australia instead.
The emotional reactions of the people involved to the news of Moll and her husband's incestuous relationship covers a whole range of outlooks on sexual sin. Incest is a very terrible thing to her: she becomes genuinely sick at the thought of have sexual relations or physical contact with her husband/brother. It does not seem to appear to her in the mean of a sin, she faces sin with equanaminity. This is more of an instinctive horror, like a fear feel of snakes. The reaction of her husband falls more into the ground of conventional morality: he wants to kill himself to remove the sin, while Moll just wants to leave. Their mother seems to be more motivated by regard for conventions than something else: she would actually prefer to have her children continue their relationship, than face the scandal of separation?! (Weird, may I say!). So, Moll is motivated by a kind of instinctive natural morality, her husband/brother by a more religious sense of guilt and sacrifice, and their mother by a concern for keeping up appearances…no matter how weird and twisted the means are, but that is just me.
Incidentally, I think it would be interesting to know where Moll found out about her origins, knowing that she ran away from the gypsies at the age of three. It hardly seems likely that at that age she would remember her mother's fate and the crime for which she had been convicted, her name, and stuff like that. Defoe never explains this, probably for the good reason that he could not do so, but again that’s just me speaking.
Moll's situation at the end of this part of the story is not favorable: she does not seem to be able to rely on her brother for continued financial assistance, and she is no longer very young, though still pretty.
Although people often associate Moll Flanders with prostitution, she is never a streetwalker. In fact she is rarely even a mistress: On part 7 The Gentleman at bath is only the second time that she is in a sexual relationship without marriage. It is surely one of the most bizarre affairs ever to be described in literature, perhaps because of the simplicity with which it is described (again just me!). Moll only hints at the emotional motivations of her lover and herself, which results in the comical picture of a middle-aged couple in bed, avoiding immorality. I can imagine that Moll provides emotional support and consolation for her lover, that he loves her and she is fond of him. Their adulterous relationship certainly does not appear romantic, nor sinful. When the man decides to leave Moll after his illness, Moll involves in some melodramatic thoughts of guilt, then, as her ways, extracts as much money as she can from him, and goes on her way. Just like that!
This unemotional and stubborn affair is an immense contrast to her previous marriage. With this dry romance, Defoe mocks Moll's lover's theatrical notions of morality. His insistence on sleeping chastely in her bed to demonstrate his great respect for her virtue, and his coldness to her after his illness, both seem equally laughable. Moll needs money to survive, not respect. A genuine attachment would not be dissolved by a fright, causing the man to consciously leave his companion of six years and the mother of his child without an income: if he were truly good, he would continue to support her.
When Moll looks for another husband, the metaphor of Moll = money (Moll is a product: she can exchange her love and sexual favors for money) is developed in a new way. Previously, the question has been how much Moll is worth: how much money must a lover give her? How much need a husband have? When this grave gentleman is considered for his worthiness as a possible husband, it is not merely his personal wealth and how much he thinks Moll has that decides whether or not he will marry her, and she will marry him. Instead, Moll finds him in the role of a financial helper, someone who would take care of her money. Her money, remember, can be thought of as a symbol for herself. At the end of each affair, she takes account of the change in her finances; this financial evaluation takes the place of a psychological or emotional analysis. Moll becomes convinced that the grave gentleman would take care of her money (herself) very well, and this leads her naturally to think that he would make a good husband.
Interestingly, this development of Moll's association of herself with her money makes her actions appear less mercenary. She is no longer overtly trying to accumulate as much wealth as she can; instead she wants to preserve what she has. No one could say that self-preservation is an unnaturally mercenary objective.
The question of divorce is also interesting in this novel. It doesn't take long to figure out that divorce in Moll's time was not like it is today. It is considered as a last solution: the grave gentleman objects that it would be "very tedious and expensive." (Even in the 17 century, lawyers were what they are nowadays.) A more reasonable approach, he thinks, would be a common-law divorce he would simply have nothing more to do with his unfaithful wife, who was in any case living with another man. The problem with this approach is that he would then have to content himself with a common-law marriage. He worried that, in that case, no "honest woman" would have him, and he didn't want have anything to do with "the other sort." His suggestion that Moll could "marry" him before the divorce went through reflects the shaky hold of legal terminology on contemporary lives. People could consider themselves to be married or divorced, when in fact the law knew nothing of the matter. This was no doubt a reaction to expensive and unfriendly courts, where officials were probably more concerned with filling their own pockets than with justice.
It was not surprising that after all Moll has done to keep her fortune she begins a life of crime, it becomes obvious that virtue is closely linked to prosperity and security. As long as Moll has a comfortable income and prospects of continued stability: "Now I seemed landed in a safe harbor, after the stormy voyage of life past was at an end, and I began to be thankful for my deliverance. I sat many an hour by myself, and wept over the remembrance of past follies, and the dreadful extravagances of a wicked life, and sometimes I flattered myself that I sincerely repented." The natural relief that Moll feels at having escaped the danger of the adventurous life is easily confused with the relief of no longer needing to sin.
Through the social implications of Moll's experiences, Defoe encourage me, the reader, not to judge criminals and sinners too hard, without considering the differences between their positions and those of more respectable tradition.
This message is strengthened by the reaction of Moll's sober husband to the failure of his business. Although he is a bunch of virtue while he does well, he does not have the necessary moral energy to save himself or his family when his clerk runs off with the money. Moll, an extremely energetic person raised under misfortunes, was aware of this: "the loss... was not so great neither but that, if he had had spirit and courage to have looked his misfortunes in the face, his credit was so good that, as I told him, he would easily recover it." His virtue seems to be strong, but is only useful when he is already in a good financial position, and does not prevent him from abandoning his family and dying. Maybe a genuine good person would combine his principles, and Moll's energy, but, I ask, would such a combination be possible? It seems that Moll's determination to live is related to her willing to sin to that end. Then, I ask again. Does Defoe really believe in the possibility of true goodness?
Moll Flanders was an exceptionally successful thief because of the precautions she took: she never revealed more about herself than absolutely necessary, protecting herself from incriminating witnesses, and she avoided jobs that she considered too clumsy and dangerous. The necessary lack of trust which results from leading an immoral or illegal life does not seem to burden her too much, but she evidently makes no new close friends during this period of her life.
She does not appear to be particularly happy either: she lives in fear of being taken or betrayed, and her successes are tainted by remorse.
This play contains many descriptions of acts of theft and deception. Moll felt guilty but became hardened to her new life, which seems natural and not particularly striking. Instead, the interest here lies within the descriptions themselves: Defoe is revealing tricks, against which his readers will learn to defend themselves. He makes this much clear in the prologue, where he claims these descriptions as evidence of his moral intent. It is probably clear by now that, although Moll Flanders does carry a moral message, it is not the forward one in the prologue. We, Defoe's readers, are not learning what a terrible thing thievery is, but rather useful skills for how to avoid being victims of it, or maybe even how to engage in it themselves. The 18 century reader of novels was interested in many things.
I learn from ‘Moll Flanders’ that keeping secrets is a strain for Moll: "a secret of moment should always have a confidant, a bosom friend, to whom we may communicate the joy of it, or the grief of it, be it which it will, or it will be a double weight upon the spirits, and perhaps become even insupportable in itself." Moll keeps many secrets during her life: even people closest to her, her governess and her Lancashire husband, are not told important things about her. The ability to keep secrets has been essential to her security. The end of the book, in which Moll is finally able to tell some essential secrets (those of her marriage to her brother and her marriage to James), is calm and favorable not only because Moll achieves wealth (she had been wealthy before) but because she can relieve her mental oppression. Every secret is then told to someone: her governess knows about her thievery, though her husband and son do not; and her husband and son know about her marriages, although her governess does not. Moll will never be entirely free of secrets, since even as a rich old woman she will not tell her real name, but by living legally, is a chance where she can rest relatively easy.
During her take-back stage Moll said to learn to despise material wealth, but gained prosperity and safety appear to dull her religious beliefs, and while I might easily believe that she does not wish to return to her evil ways, it is true that she ends the novel comfortably repenting while living off profits based on sin, theft and robbery. Ironic, isn’t it?
