The Sandy Whiskered Gentleman and His Foes
Three Images of Masculinity in 'Jemima Puddle-Duck'
Jemima is a very foolish duck. The arena of her folly is a good desire. It is one that matches her created end (to be a mother), nevertheless, she is motivated towards it by pride and vanity. Neither are her motherly instincts paired with much sense of motherly wisdom, she never did know how to sit on a nest.
I don’t know what Beatrix Potter’s ‘purpose’ was in writing her short story ‘Jemima Puddle-Duck’. Perhaps she wrote an unknown-to-me letter explaining the depths of her authorial intent (and someone will make it known to me after they read this piece: ‘Aha’ they will say, ‘you’re wrong, Ms. Potter actually wrote the story to express her disdain for industrialist post-patriarchal understandings of Cumbrian village life’.) I imagine she simply wanted to tell a charmingly illustrated story about a duck to a child.
Nevertheless, in this story we are presented with three portraits of masculine characters. It might seem a little strange to give so much attention to painted ducks and dogs, but my hope with this post is that, in some small way, these three images will help to fill out our moral imagination. That they would help us to put just a little more flesh on the figure as Christian men (rightly) pursue the rejuvenation of masculinity in church and society.
I’ve included some clips here from the 90s BBC adaption ‘the World of Peter Rabbit & Friends’. These animated retellings are wonderfully faithful to the originals, and leave in all the bits an even more modern production would be very tempted to leave out (Benjamin and Peter receiving a thorough bout of discipline comes to mind…)
The Sandy Whiskered Fellow
Goaded into vanity by her own pride and the words of her sister-in-law (Rebeckah Puddle-Duck), Jemima determines to raise a clutch of eggs by herself. She knows that if she does it in the farm, the eggs will be taken from her, so she sets off into the countryside to find a place to raise her brood.
Flying over a nearby wood she spies a promising spot, and as she waddles through the foxgloves to find a dry place, she comes across a smartly dressed fox (reading a newspaper). And thus, we are introduced to the first image of masculinity in the book’s few pages.
Mr. Fox is dashing and charming. He strikes Jemima as impressive and handsome. He listens with much sympathy to her woes and agrees wholeheartedly with her anger at that miserable sister-in-law of hers. He goes out of his way to help her out, providing a warm spot in the woodshed to lay her eggs. So gentlemanly, so helpful, so empathetic to the plight of vain ducks.
There are warning signs of course, his house is dingy, and his woodshed is surprisingly full of feathers, but Jemima is very impressed by his oozing charm, and so she overlooks it all. Oh, foolish duck, who has bewitched you? An elegant fellow who indulges your vanity.
Of course, we readers know the fox’s game.
He appears to care for Jemima. He is very charming, very ‘understanding’. But really, he is a predator that wants to devour her and her children.
I think we can all recognise the smooth man, the cad, who cons women into thinking he cares, that he understands her plight. The kind of man who simply makes a woman an object of desire and appetite, and in the end will convince her that it was all in the interests of her rights that he encouraged her to kill her children. Jemima sought the protection from him, but will be betrayed by his base selfishness, and his desire to devour.
This twisted man is an enemy. A wise duck would see through him, but Jemima is not a wise duck, and his disguise is very cunning.
Perhaps the problem is with men, with looking to masculine protection. Perhaps we should smash the patriarchy and tell our daughters to be ‘strong independent women who don’t need no man’.
But the problem in this fairytale isn’t masculinity, and Mr. Fox with his perversion of masculinity is not the only man around.
The Steadfast Collie
Foolish Jemima has been taken in by a false man, by false protection, and by a sense of security that will get her killed. She could strike out on her own, but that’s what got her into this mess in the first place. No, Jemima needs to be rescued. And in Jemima’s story, she is rescued by an image of true masculinity: Kep, the farm collie dog.
Kep is a wise dog, he knows his charge well. He understands the proclivities of ducks alongside the temptations of all the other animals in his care. He’s seen Jemima take advantage of quiet moments to sneak off, out the gate and down the path. And he is well acquainted with the dangers that lurk in the woods.
One afternoon, Mr Fox has convinced Jemima to gather her own garnish ready to be eaten. As she exits the kitchen with onions and sage, Kep approaches her and with a good deal of wisdom, patience, and forthright kindness, he proceeds to question her. Jemima is in awe of Kep; he has gravitas.
In contrast to Mr. Fox, Kep is a true gentleman. Despite Jemima’s vanity, and the deception it has led her to, he knows that she is his responsibility. Her safety is his duty. His conversation is calm, masterful, skilled. And though he knows that Jemima is foolish, he isn’t resentful or angry. Perhaps he wishes to be looking after wise ducks, but he knows that he isn’t and as long as this is his domain, he will guard it with affection and strength.
His calm restraint with Jemima shouldn’t be mistaken for softness though. Kep knows how to deal with those who are his, but he also knows how to deal with those who are a threat.
Once the danger is revealed Kep is swift to action and peace is decisively traded for war. Kep, along with two fox hound pups (more on them in a moment) race to the clearing and attack Mr. Fox with ferocity, who is never seen again.
As ridiculous as it feels to write this sentence about a fictional dog: There is much to emulate in Kep. Those of us who would like to be truly masculine ought to aim for similar things; understanding, wisdom, sober mindedness, rightly directed ferocity, patience, affection, decisive action and a sense of sincere duty (which is not the same as being morose).
But despite the true protection that comes to Jemima from Kep, there is still tragedy waiting for her. And so, we turn to the final of our three images of masculinity.
Eager Young Pups
I have already mentioned that Kep enlists the help of two young fox-hound pups. These two pups are the third of our pictures of masculinity. They are energetic and ready for a fight. But they are not yet tempered by sober mindedness.
After the scrap, Kep opens the door of the woodshed to let out Jemima, who has been trapped inside. As soon as the door opens the pups rush in and, in their frenzied energy, trample Jemima’s eggs and eat the remains.
The pups have the ferocity they need, they have energy and zeal, and they are ready for the fight. These are all very good things, and these pups are immensely useful to the older Kep, who needs their help in the scrap against the fox (a tough fight that has taken its toll on him and the pups, who are wounded and limping.) But their strength isn’t honed and directed by wisdom and self-control. Jemima has her life thanks to them, but sorrow has come as well. If their masculine strength and zeal is going to make the world safe for ducks, they are going to have to get wisdom. If they want the righteous gravitas of noble Kep, they have a lot to learn.
Thankfully they have someone to learn it from.
These pictures of masculinity are not complete pictures, and it would be a mistake to push them too far. They are after all, characters in a story that is not meant to be naked allegory. Mr Fox is a fox before he is a stand-in for the cad. Kep is a farm dog, and his life is a farm dog life (with a little more talking than the average farm dog.) He isn’t a cardboard cutout, a one-to-one stand-in, for fathers or patriarchs or kings etc.* Nevertheless, these characters, acting in their stories in righteous or unrighteous ways do help to flesh out our moral imagination.
And My hope is that this small character study will help to flesh out yours.
…And your children’s. After all, this is a story for them.
*Jemima certainly isn’t a bare allegory for women generally either, she is simply a foolish female duck, who’s temptations run along feminine grooves. A foolish duck, as opposed to a wise duck, makes the stakes of the tale clearer, and so makes the story better. One supposes that there may be many wise female ducks in the farmyard, but they aren’t the sort of ducks that get themselves into danger the way that Jemima does.
Spot on. I have taught on this wonderful metaphorical story before and you’ve highlighted several things I’d missed. Well done.