This chapter finds that whether read as an example of propaganda, travel writing or Edith Wharton’s feminism, In Morocco (1920) bears out her long-standing engagement with silence. Written during the latter part of the Great War, the text situates Wharton on an international stage where she unapologetically champions French colonial rule in Morocco. Her keen approval extends to acknowledging how France benefits from its protectorate, but steadfastly refusing to question the virtue of the arrangement despite a contemporaneous threat posed to France’s own sovereignty by outside forces. Silences around Resident-General Hubert Lyautey’s policies in practice, and the extent to which Moroccans themselves seek French rule, are also perpetuated. In an evocation of Morocco that is aimed at prospective visitors and appeals to their taste for the perceived exotic, Wharton simultaneously emphasises the silences—and interplays between silence and sound—that abound at this country’s cultural attractions to create an impression of timelessness and/or unknowability. She is most vocal, though, about the perceived silencing of women encountered during a series of visits to Moroccan harems. In Morocco’s censure of the treatment of women may have served contemporary political agendas, but Wharton’s prior literary interest in women’s silences complicates this reading.

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Silences Abroad: In Morocco

  • Isabelle Parsons

摘要

This chapter finds that whether read as an example of propaganda, travel writing or Edith Wharton’s feminism, In Morocco (1920) bears out her long-standing engagement with silence. Written during the latter part of the Great War, the text situates Wharton on an international stage where she unapologetically champions French colonial rule in Morocco. Her keen approval extends to acknowledging how France benefits from its protectorate, but steadfastly refusing to question the virtue of the arrangement despite a contemporaneous threat posed to France’s own sovereignty by outside forces. Silences around Resident-General Hubert Lyautey’s policies in practice, and the extent to which Moroccans themselves seek French rule, are also perpetuated. In an evocation of Morocco that is aimed at prospective visitors and appeals to their taste for the perceived exotic, Wharton simultaneously emphasises the silences—and interplays between silence and sound—that abound at this country’s cultural attractions to create an impression of timelessness and/or unknowability. She is most vocal, though, about the perceived silencing of women encountered during a series of visits to Moroccan harems. In Morocco’s censure of the treatment of women may have served contemporary political agendas, but Wharton’s prior literary interest in women’s silences complicates this reading.