Introduction: Who is a prostitute?
Prostitution was low-class in the minds of many 19th century Parisians. The very first words of Alexandre Parent-Duchâtelet’s On Prostitution in the City of Paris, an unrivaled account of the state of prostitution in 19th century Paris, read “I found, in most people’s minds, a particular disfavor attached to the functions of all those people who, in one way or another, deal with prostitutes…”. [1] In reading Parent-Duchâtelet’s accounts of the time, it is clear that the prevailing view held by administrative powers was that prostitution was a social ill to regulated by the police, the site of which was the lower class. This exhibit will explore the social perception of prostitutes, the methods by which police targeted them, the regulations imposed upon prostitutes by the police, and the dynamics of social class within prostitution to explore the deeply contradictory understanding of what a prostitute was in 19th century Paris.
In examining texts from the time, it is important to remember that in the mind of the city’s administration, prostitutes were destitute, but more importantly, prostitutes were a thing unto themselves, rather than a profession one might engage in from time to time. A man might solicit a prostitute once or twice (especially in his younger days), however, the woman prostitute is a prostitute, marked by her lack of morality, only redeemable through the care of a respectable person such as a husband or parent, or through faith. This characterization allowed the police to create a target identity of the lower class. I posit that using the rhetoric of protecting public health and safety, prostitution regulation became a means to police class through crime.
Pictured left, Paul Gavarni's 1852 work "Les Premières amours d'un homme 'fait'" shows just this attitude. In English, the title translates to "the first loves of a middle-aged man." This former “Arthur,” or lover and benefactor of the lorette, has settled into middle age with a dignity denied to the destitute lorette vieillie. The man's clothing is elegant, and his posture is upright, while the former lorette appears in shabby clothing, and carries a cane - signaling her poor health.
Discussing the causes of prostitution, Duchâtelet lists “Excess of poverty, loss of mother and father, to support older/infirm parents, eldest in the family to support younger siblings, Widowed or abandoned women raising a large family, country widows coming to Paris for resources, brought to Paris and abandoned by lovers, maids seduced by their masters and subsequently fired, and simple concubines having lost their lovers and not knowing what to do.” [2] Each of these motives denotes a low economic standing, a lack of social support, and a general incapability. Motives related to individual desire are conspicuously absent, as are any motives related to personal enjoyment, economic advantage, or display of agency. According to Duchâtelet, A prostitute engages in prostitution because that is her nature.
While this description of origin implies a degree of empathy, or perhaps an understanding of the condition of a sex worker of the time, Duchâtelet’s description of prostitutes in Paris paints them as naturally immoral creatures. He states, “one must put at the head of these defects their gluttony and love of wine and strong liquors. Their gluttony and their voraciousness are extreme; one sees girls eat continually and consume what would suffice 3 or 4 women of their age...” He continues to generalize, describing them as lying, angry women, yet also incredibly carefree: he asserts that “one cannot contain them; nothing is more difficult than making them follow reasoning, and the smallest thing distracts and carries them away.” [3]
Duchâtelet’s sweeping generalizations betray an understanding of a prostitute as a thing or condition, rather than a profession. It seems that he, and seemingly the broader public, considered that a woman who has engaged in prostitution was forever stained, not by their choice of profession, but by their lack of morals. This characterization would help to justify their subjection to harsh regulation by the police.
In Paris, prostitution was seen as a vice, and the prostitutes themselves became literal embodiments of vice. They were, and would always be, a public woman, even after renouncing the profession: Duchâtalet asks, “What sentiments will inspire us, born I wouldn’t say in the class of the bourgeois, but in the distinguished ranks and raised in society, [don’t blush] to let enter in their family prostitutes who merit maybe their compassion, but unworthy to ever take their name?”[4]
This permanent imputation of vice carries immense weight for the time. As Duchâtelet notes, “preserving morality supersedes even public health in the eyes of the administration.” [5]
It bears significance that a great many illustrations of sex workers came from Paul Gavarni. Known for his wit, Gavarni’s illustrations of lorettes and students were light-hearted depictions of Parisian society, and his work was praised contemporaneously for its subtle humor. He referred to his works as caricatures; they were, in many senses, exactly that - that lorettes and some other sex workers were rendered by Gavarni’s lithographs reflects an understanding of their place as a facet of society, rather than the crushing vice police rhetoric imagined them as. Artists concerned with heavy commentary with a more brutal touch, such as Daumier, might have imagined sex workers: however, in all his representations of social ills, prostitution is barely covered, in favor of what Daumier seemingly perceived as more pressing. Pictured left is Daumier's work on the French monarchy. Daumier rarely saw prostitution as disturbing enough of an issue to warrant his commentary, whereas Gavarni found them well within his canon.