Reply To: Martha’s diary

Home / Forums / Author Forums / Ariel Lawhon / The Frozen River / Martha’s diary / Reply To: Martha’s diary

January 18, 2025 at 10:19 am #33102

I believe that withholding the paths to literacy has been, and still is in some parts of the world, a pathetic, cruel means of subjugation of persons, motivated by fear– fear of loss of power, of domination, of superiority. Some people want to hold all the cards, and want everyone else to just stay in “their place.” Literacy leads to understanding, to illumination, to independent thought — for those who want to dominate, it’s a weapon that might be used against them, so they withhold the means. In male/female relationships, this has often been the case, and in Martha’s time, (and before, and beyond…) many men were too insecure to advocate that women be offered the same advantages. It’s a frustrating fact of history that continues to repeat itself. And this need for dominance expands not only to gender, but also to race, class, nationality, politics, etc.
In a related example, in the medical profession, the doctors used to communicate verbally and in written language in Latin and Greek in order to impress the patients with their education and appear “all-wise, all-knowing,” assuming that the average patient had no knowledge of these languages. They wanted power and control over them, instead of a mutual working relationship with them, a partnership in health. They used their literacy and education to keep themselves in the rarified air of the elite, where being obeyed and respected was often more important than the patient’s well-being. A good example in this book was Dr. Page’s approach to medical care versus Martha’s. Page wanted to dominate and be obeyed; Martha saw the person, learned their names, worked in concert with them and their wishes.

Regarding the other part of todays question: I used to journal a lot. I found it a good way to sort out my thoughts and feelings, especially if there was nobody around that I could share them with. I found, though, that during many of the busiest, craziest, most interesting parts of my life, I didn’t take the time to do it. I do wish that I had had Libby’s (and Martha’s!) perseverance and self-discipline and made myself do it. I always thought that I would never forget certain moments and experiences, certain faces and names, and places, and yet, over the decades — they’re gone, or at least rattling around in a closet in my brain that I can no longer easily find the key to. It’s frustrating. So much is lost, without documentation.

On the other hand, if you do journal, then you have to ask yourself — what happens to these now? Should all thoughts be shared with others? If you use them for catharsis, do you really want anybody else to see them? If you use them simply to document day-to-day activities, should they really be saved for posterity? Should they be destroyed, having served your personal purpose, or should they be saved, leaving someone else to ponder what to do with them? I’m finding it interesting now in reading The Midwife’s Tale (the nonfiction book about Martha Ballard, that Jane clued us in to) that scholars at first ignored her diaries because they found them mundane, boring and noncontributory to history, whereas the author, Laura Thatcher Ulhrich, was able to put facts, dates, and details together to form a coherent, important glimpse into life of that era. She also notes, however, that Martha seldom revealed anything personal in these notations; it was rare for her to make such comments, but when she did, a lot could be inferred from them. And she, too, wondered if Martha had ever intended for the diaries to be preserved and read. There are other means of preserving memories available now (Blogs! Cloud storage!) so I think the impulse to document and share is alive and well, despite perhaps a lessening in the traditional journaling. I have a feeling that Martha would have allowed her journals to survive, as a witness to her life.

avataravataravataravataravataravatar