The Queering of Gender and Sexuality in Sarah Waters' Tipping the Velvet

This analysis will explore the notions of gender performativity and fluid identity in Sarah Waters' debut novel Tipping the Velvet from 1998. Focusing on the main character of the novel, Nancy “Nan” Astley, the analysis will examine how Nan's fluctuating gender identity and experiences of lesbian desire work to destabilize the assumed link between sex, gender and opposite desire described in Judith Butler’s Gender Trouble.


Nan and Kitty.
Photo from the
Tipping the Velvet miniseries, a 2002 adaptation of Waters' novel.

An Unnatural Woman

At the beginning of Tipping the Velvet, we find ourselves in an oyster restaurant in Whitstable buzzing with activity. Here, we are introduced to Nancy “Nan” Astley, a young girl who spends her days in her father's oyster-parlor, opening and preparing oysters. Sometimes she visits the music-hall at the Canterbury Palace of Varieties for her own amusement. She admits to having a passion for music-hall songs and for singing them (Waters 1998: 5), yet could never imagine herself on stage because of her boyish appearance: "the girls whose songs I loved to learn and sing, they weren't like me," she thinks, "they had cherry lips, and curls that danced about their shoulders; they had bosoms that jutted, and elbows that dimpled, and ankles [...] as slim and shapely as beer-bottles" (7). Nan, by contrast, is tall, rather lean, with a flat chest, dull hair and eyes of a drab, uncertain color (7). Although she knows herself to be less feminine than other girls, she does not doubt her own identity as a woman. As we will see later on, Nan's sense of gender identity is certainly not fixed, but Nan's life takes a drastic turn when she watches Kitty Butler, a male impersonator, perform at the Canterbury Palace. She is immediately taken with Kitty, her attraction seemingly stemming from the combination of Kitty's female body and masculine mannerism:


"She looked, I suppose, like a very pretty boy, for her face was a perfect oval, and her eyes were large and dark at the lashes, and her lips were rosy and full. Her figure, too, was boy-like and slender - yet rounded, vaguely but unmistakably, at the bosom, the stomach, and the hips, in a way no real boy's ever was [...] But she strode like a boy, and stood like one, with her feet far apart and her hands thrust carelessly into her trouser pockets, and her head at an arrogant angle, at the very front of the stage; and when she sang, her voice was a boy's voice - sweet and terribly true" (13).

Nan's desire for Kitty, which grows with each performance she witnesses, not only defies the heteronormative idea of attraction defined as attraction to the opposite sex. It also hints that desire is more complex than simply attraction to either masculinity or femininity as Kitty's face and body are a mix of both feminine and masculine features.
One night, Nan catches Kitty's eye and is invited backstage. A friendship starts growing between them, and Nan eventually becomes Kitty's dresser and goes to London with her. At a Christmas party, Nan wears a blue gown given to her by Kitty. Putting it on, she realizes that "the dress was so transforming it was practically a disguise" (94). The motif of the disguise, which is also found in Nan's later use of various costumes, highlights the idea of gender as a performance. Nan is displeased with her appearance, thinking that she "[looks] more like a boy who had donned his sister's ball-gown for a lark" (94). However, she soon forgets her initial reaction to the dress as she starts receiving compliments for her looks. The dress, and other people's flattering comments on it, appears to stabilize her sense of gender identity: "I wasn't used to thinking of myself as a grown-up woman, but now, clad in that handsome frock of blue and cream, satin and lace, I began at last to feel like one - and to realise, indeed, that I was one" (95). Nan's statement reflects Butler's notion of performativity. Identifying with femininity does not come natural to her; instead, other people's comments are required in order for coherent identification to be established.
When Walter Bliss, Kitty's manager, overhears Kitty and Nan singing together, he insists that Nan must join Kitty on stage. This decision leads Nan further down the path of self-discovery in relation to both gender and sexuality. At this point, Nan and Kitty have started sleeping together, carefully hiding their relationship from the rest of the world. As she tries on clothes for their upcoming performance, Nan discovers a connection between her masculine attire and her desire for Kitty. Putting on a pair of trousers, she immediately starts to feel aroused, confessing that "ʻif I were to be beside you, in theseʼ - I took another couple of steps - ʻoh Kitty, I don't think I should be able to keep from kissing you!ʼ (114). Nan's sexuality appears to be closely tied with male clothing, to a point where the clothes almost become fetishized. Indeed, not once, but twice she is described as feeling a "pang of disappointment" when seeing Kitty clad as a girl (37, 46). It is clear that Nan enjoys cross-dressing, both on a personal and sexual level. As she admits: "it was my new capacity for pleasure - for pleasure in performance, display and disguise, in the wearing of handsome suits [...] that shocked and thrilled me most" (126). Nan displaying masculinity on stage, and later on the streets, shows that gender does not follow from sex and that masculinity is not limited to the male body. Furthermore, her attraction to masculinity in other women challenges the idea that desire emerges from a complementary relationship between the feminine and the masculine. Tipping the Velvet thus 'queers' both gender and sexuality through its portrayal of female masculinity. Nan's attraction to women is, in fact, often referred to as "queer hungers"/"queer desires" (282, 98) and "queer and inconvenient lusts" (78), revealing the self-awareness of the author.

The Fe-Male

Before Nan will be able to perform on stage as a male impersonator, Walter must first alter her appearance. Dressed as a boy, he realizes that Nan becomes "too real" - she looks too much like a boy due to her masculine features (118). Therefore, Walter tucks in her jacket at the waist, creating the illusion of hips and breasts, and paints her lips, so that she looks "not exactly [like] a boy but, rather confusingly, as the boy I would have been, had I been more of a girl" (120). These alterations are very telling in the context of Butler's words about drag and other forms of parodic gender imitation. If the audience thinks that Nan is actually a boy, the thrill of her performance would lose its effect. In order for the parody to work, the audience must be assured of her 'femaleness'.
But is Nan truly 'female'? Her male features reveal the problem of the male/female classification mentioned in Gender Trouble - for is 'sex' anatomical, hormonal or chromosomal (Butler 1990: 6-7)? If one's sex is related to anatomy then Nan could be said to be in-between sexes. She is constantly read as 'male', to the point where she is later able to work as a male prostitute in order to survive on the streets. Not surprisingly, this starts to affect her sense of gender identity: "I think [Mrs Bests] was never quite sure if I were a girl come to her house to pull on a pair of trousers, or a boy arrived to change out of his frock. Sometimes, I was not sure myself" (195); a statement that hints at a transgender position. Later on, when looking for a place to stay permanently, she spots an advertisement that reads "Respectible Lady Seeks Fe-Male Lodger", admitting that she finds the word 'Fe-Male' appealing: "I saw myself in it - in the hyphen (211). Nan can be said to blur the line between male and female, revealing biological sex as a spectrum rather than a binary. Her status as in-between becomes perhaps most evident in her father's description of the oyster. As he explains to Kitty "ʻthe oyster [...] is what you might call a real queer fish - now a he, now a she, as quite takes its fancy. A regular morphodite, in fact!ʼ" (49). Although Nan's brother goes on to compare Kitty to the fish, it is clear that Nan is the true 'oyster' of the novel. In fact, she often refers to herself as an "oyster-girl" (4), making the connection even more apparent. With her ability to perform masculinity and blend in as a man in the crowd, she effectively reveals the socially constructed nature of both sex and gender. Nan being in-between is also underlined by her performing as Hermaphroditus (281), a figure associated with the transgression of boundaries, and alluded to when Kitty refers to her as a mermaid (38), a mythological hybrid.
Interestingly, Nan's gender identity once again starts to stabilize as she encounters the wealthy upper-class widow Diana Lethaby. "I felt like a man being transformed into a woman at the hand of a sorceress" (239-240), she comments, as Diana takes her to her residence, Felicity Place, where they embark on an erotic journey. This shows us that Nan's identity is not fixed, but fluid, depending very much on her female objects of desire. A similar pattern is seen earlier in the novel when Nan, performing on stage, confesses that she "had fallen in love with Kitty; now, becoming Kitty, I fell in love a little with myself" (126). Although 'becoming Kitty' refers to becoming a male impersonator, the statement could also suggest that the lines between her and Kitty's identities are blurred. Nan seems to shape herself around the women she desires. Staying at Felicity Place, she becomes whatever Diana wants her to be, dressing up to please and shock Diana's friends. As Wilson points out, "Nan is denied all aspects of her identity beyond her sexuality; she exists purely for Diana’s pleasure and lives in a state of constant performance" (Wilson 2006: 300). Frequently displayed in masquerade, Nan loses her identity, becoming entirely dependent on Diana: "I must keep her, or have nothing. I could not imagine a life beyond her shaping" (Waters 1998: 282). She becomes Diana's "boy", answering to the name 'Neville' (279). When she leaves Diana, she finally realizes to what extent she has lost herself: "What a guy Diana had made of me! The thought made me weep at last in earnest, in terrible, shaming gulps" (349).
I would argue that Nan's relationship with Diana demonstrates how repeated acts are required in order to stabilize one's gendered self. At Felicity Place there is no 'highly rigid regulatory frame' necessary for gender to manifest itself. Here, the rules are shaped, not by heteronormativity, but by class. Diana's upper-class status allows her to create a private, Sapphic fantasy world. Her lesbian friends visit frequently to admire Nan in her expensive, daring costumes, but Nan herself has no power due to her low-class status. She is forced to constantly transform herself, molding every aspect of her identity to fit Diana's desires, which is why she loses her sense of self. This, then, illustrates how the power of class affects the performative nature of gender. In Diana's isolated, Sapphic household, Nan may have escaped the restrictions of heteronormative Victorian society, but she is still compelled to abide by Diana's rules; rules that are constantly shifting, resulting in an alienation of the self.

'Doing' Gender - On and Off Stage

Masculine body language, as well as male clothes, is required for male impersonators to succeed on stage. The impersonator must therefore learn how to 'do' gender convincingly. When Nan and Kitty arrive in London, Walter tells them that he means to broaden Kitty's repertoire. He insists that she and Nan go for a walk in London and spend some time observing the men:


"ʻyou must both of you go about the city and study the men! [...] Scrutinise 'em! [...] Catch their characters, their little habits, their mannerisms and gaits [...] you must copy them, and make your audience know it in their turnʼ" (83).
Consistent with Butler's theory, Walter here describes gender as a performance - a set of repeated acts that can be mimicked. Nan describes how she and Kitty "spent hours as he had advised in shops and market squares and stations studying the men [...] and we learned together the constable's amble, the coster's weary swagger, the smart clip of the off-duty soldier" (86). They use these stylized repetitions of acts in their masher performances on stage, putting masculinity on display. "We became not just rather popular, as Kitty had been, but really famous," Nan recalls (126). Butler mentions how revealing the imitative structure of gender is part of the pleasure of performances in drag. Similarly, Nan and Kitty's act of imitating gender appears to please the audience immensely as they end up visiting music-halls all over London. In a strict, Victorian society, it is not difficult to see why the audience would be thrilled by their performances. A world with strong heteronormative values does not allow for much deviation from the gender norms, so seeing gender revealed as nothing but a construct might provide the audience with some relief and amusement, although, of course, this takes place purely at a subconscious level. Nan and Kitty's 'double act' can, then, be understood in a variety of ways. As Neal (2012) points out they are a double act in the sense that they are a comedic duo. However, they are also a 'double act' in terms of performing gender, which is, in itself, an act. And finally, there is a connection between their act on stage and their secret love affair; a 'double act' in the private, intimate language they use to communicate during the performance (201). As Nan comments: "But, that was our show; only the crowd never knew it. They looked on, and saw another turn entirely" (Waters 1998: 128). Her words refer to her and Kitty's bedroom/stage relationship, but can be said to apply to the imitation of gender as well. Gender is a show with no real substance behind it, yet we seldom realize this, but think of it as something given.
When Nan later leaves the theater and lives on the streets, she discovers the gay male underworld of London and decides to work as a rent-boy. These chapters expose the performativity of gender even further as Nan sets out, once again, to study the men: "For a week or two I continued to wander, and to watch, and to learn the ways and gestures of the world into which I had stumbled. Walking and watching, indeed, are that world's keynotes" (201). Like with gender, Nan must once again master the signs required to express herself properly, learning these by observing and mimicking behavior. Once she succeeds, she is able to detect the customers walking the streets. She soon learns the routine: how to spot a customer, how to bring him to an alley or lavatory stall, and how to satisfy him with her mouth or hands. "I was daily giving such marvellous performances," she states, proudly, wishing for "a bold and knowing eye that saw how well I played my part" (206). This audience comes in the form of Diana, who brings Nan to her home, making her play a new role. "It was quite like dressing for the halls again," Nan reflects (264). Where Nan earlier walked the public stage, she now enters a domestic one. The stage-like nature of Diana's home is emphasized by the description of her bedroom:


"The room last night had been as unreal as a stage-set: a place of lamplight and shadows 
and  colours and scents of impossible brilliance, in which we had been given a licence to be not ourselves, or more than ourselves, as actors are" (246). 



As Hall remarks, "Nancy’s performances in this space are overtly stylised and self-conscious" (Hall 2006: 39), just like they were on the music-hall stage and on the street which, perhaps, is why she never gains a sense of true identity. Nan's self-awareness of the role she inhabits draws our attention to the fact that gender is merely an imitation. Various signifiers may be negotiated within certain social contexts, but in the end there is no on-stage or off stage - the whole world is a stage on which gender is constantly regulated and performed.

Subversion and Punishment

Although the music hall provides Nan with a place where she can experiment with gender, it is clear that such deviations are only allowed in that small, confined space. Her performances on stage serve a carnivalesque purpose, briefly liberating both her and the audience from the dominant, heteronormative discourse. However, this subversion also gives rise to conflict inside Nan. As Wilson notes:

"For Victorian women, one of the ways in which femininity was materialized was through clothing, yet for Nan, constantly changing costume and altering the visual signifiers of gender creates a conflict between those norms she can subvert and those she cannot" (Wilson 2006: 296)

Nan realizes the limitations for women in Victorian society: "whatever successes I might achieve as a girl, they would be nothing compared to the triumphs I should enjoy clad, however girlishly, as a boy" (Waters 1998: 123). She loves the stage for the freedom it gives her, but even this freedom rests on a very fragile foundation. This becomes clear during one of her and Kitty's masher acts when a man hurls the word 'toms' at them, making the audience recoil in horror: "I saw their faces - a thousand faces, self-conscious and appalled" (140). She and Kitty are suddenly viewed through a heteronormative lens, all layers of parody stripped away: "They looked at us, and saw - what? Two girls in suits, their hair close-clipped, their arms entwined. Toms!" (141). The mention of 'close-clipped hair' echoes Nan's remark at the beginning of the novel - that women with short hair are only ever seen in hospitals, prisons or in madhouses (12). Short hair on women thus connotes sickness, madness and deviance. As the audience is reminded of these connotations, the illusion of the performance shatters, and Nan and Kitty are rendered abnormal, causing Kitty to flee from the stage filled with shame. It is Kitty's fear of being labeled a tom that drives her to sleep with Walter and eventually marry him, breaking Nan's heart.
The limited freedom of expression also becomes obvious on the street where Nan initially uses her skills of male impersonation to avoid street harassment. In this environment, performing masculinity becomes a survival tactic, although one that, quite ironically, comes with a great risk, something which Nan is quite aware of: "With every glance that came my way, I flinched; at any moment I expected the cry to be let up: ʻA girl! There is a girl, here, in boy's clothing!ʼ" (194). Although not overtly stated, being revealed as an imposter may have dire consequences for Nan. As Butler mentions, disturbing the heterosexual matrix of intelligibility is often met with punishment, and a woman such as Nan, who fails to 'do' gender correctly, may experience violence as a consequence of stepping out of line.
At the end of the novel, however, Nan finds a safe haven in the working-class environment at Quilter Street. Since the people in the community do not mind her dressing in a masculine fashion, she soon loses the awareness that she is simply performing masculinity and starts to develop a more stable sense of self. This once again shows us how gender always depends on the dominant conventions of a certain society, culture or class.


References

Butler, J. (1990). Gender Trouble - Feminism and the Subversion of Identity. New York: Routledge.

Hall, D. M. (2006). Space and Sexuality in the Post-Victorian Fiction of Sarah Waters. Master's
thesis, The School of English, Journalism and European Languages, University of
Tasmania.

Neal, A. J. (2012). (Neo-)Victorian Impersonations: 19th Century Transvestism in Contemporary
Literature and Culture. PhD thesis, University of Hull.

Waters, S. (1998). Tipping the Velvet. London: Virago Press.

Wilson, A. C. (2006). From the Drawing Room to the Stage: Performing Sexuality in Sarah
Waters' Tipping the Velvet. Women's Studies: An Interdisciplinary Journal, 35(3), 285-305.

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