In this blog post, set against the backdrop of 19th-century London, we examine Charlotte Dacker’s life and works—particularly ‘Joploya’ and ‘Desire’—and explore the questions they raised about female desire and social constraints.
Charlotte Dacker went by several names. Before marriage, she was known as Charlotte King, taking her father’s surname, and when publishing her literary works, she used the pen names Rosa Matilda and Charlotte Dacker. After marrying Nicholas Burn, she became Charlotte Burn. Today, she is primarily known as Charlotte Dacker. It is unclear exactly how she came to use the surname Dacker. However, she used that name as a pen name in her novels, and over time, readers who encountered her works appear to have become familiar with it.
Charlotte’s exact date of birth is unknown, but scholars estimate it to be either late 1771 or early the following year. Charlotte was born to her father, Jonathan (John) King, and her mother, Deborah Lara. Jonathan was a moneylender and a radical writer who enjoyed a life of financial prosperity and wielded political and social influence through his wealth.
In London society, where Protestants were the majority, Jonathan, as a Jew, engaged in a form of usury. Consequently, he was known to the public as “King, the Jew of London.” Furthermore, the description of him as a “radical writer” suggests that he was deeply interested in social and political engagement and possessed a strong desire for power. Perhaps due to this background, when Charlotte was young, her father divorced Deborah and remarried Jane Rochford Butler, the widow of the Earl of Rainesborough.
Charlotte had a younger sister named Sophia. Sophia also showed literary talent and published five novels and two collections of poetry. Given that both Charlotte and Sophia were interested in literature and wrote novels and poetry, it appears that their household fostered an intellectual atmosphere. Since her father was also a writer, Charlotte must have devoured many books from an early age.
Her father seemed to view his daughters’ interest in literature and their creative writing positively. Charlotte and Sophia published a collection of poems they had written together and dedicated it to their father. The dedication at the beginning of ‘Trifles from Helicon’, published in 1798, reads as follows: “To Sir John King. Accept these blossoms in full bloom in place of the ripe fruits of the Muses. This demonstrates that the education you supported was not in vain; we pray that, when we are older, we may serve you with something even more perfect. — Your beloved daughters, Charlotte King and Sophia King.”
As seen in the dedication, it is clear that Charlotte’s father spared no effort in showing interest in and supporting his daughters’ education. Their affection and gratitude are also evident. Charlotte was twenty-eight when this collection of poems was published, and considering that her father had remarried early, it seems he took a special interest in and supported his daughters’ upbringing.
Around 1804, Charlotte began contributing poems to ‘The Morning Post’ under the pen name Rosa Matilda, through which she met the newspaper’s editor, Nicholas Burn. Although Nicholas was married at the time, Charlotte paid no heed to this and developed a romantic relationship with him.
In 1805, she published ‘The Confessions of Sister Saint-Aumer’, dedicating the novel to Matthew Lewis, as she had been greatly influenced by his novel ‘The Monk’, published in 1796. It would not be an exaggeration to say that the Gothic romance style of Charlotte’s later novels was shaped by Lewis’s work. In particular, ‘Zofloya: A Romance of Fifteenth-Century Venice’, published in May of the following year, bears a striking resemblance to ‘The Monk’ in terms of plot structure, character development, and setting.
‘Zofloya’ enjoyed tremendous popularity, selling 754 out of 1,000 copies within six months of its publication. At the time, this was considered a major bestseller. Buoyed by this popularity, novels parodying ‘Zofloya’ were published, and pirated editions began circulating.
Charlotte continued to publish poems reflecting political trends in the ‘Morning Post’, and in September 1806, she gave birth to her first son, William, with Nicholas. At the time, Nicholas was married and Charlotte was unmarried. In 1807, she published the novel ‘The Freeman’, which gained great popularity and went through three printings by the end of the year. In November of that same year, she gave birth to her second son, Charles, and two years later, her third child, Mary. It was not until 1811, after Nicholas’s wife had died, that the three children were baptized. That same year, Charlotte published the novel ‘Desire’.
Charlotte did not marry Nicholas until 1815, and in 1822, she published her final work, the poetry collection ‘George IV’. Having suffered from illness for a long time in her later years, Charlotte passed away on November 7, 1825, at the age of fifty-nine, at Lancaster Place in London.
Although ‘Joploya’ is set in the 15th century, the novel was published in 1806 and thus reflects the social and political conditions of the late 18th and early 19th centuries. At that time, women in British society lacked independence. They had no right to vote, their property rights were extremely limited, and they were not free to engage in social activities.
Stable jobs were mostly held by men, and women supported themselves by engaging in domestic handicrafts or performing menial tasks such as laundry and cleaning. Women who had received even a modest education could hold positions such as governesses or housekeepers, but in general, it was considered taboo for women to receive an education. Since opportunities to enter the workforce and secure a stable income were limited, women typically chose to marry once they reached a certain age. Marriage was a means of ensuring a stable life for survival, and upon marriage, a woman’s entire estate became the property of her husband.
Women’s studies scholar Barbara Welter summarized the status of women at the time with four keywords: “chastity, piety, family, and obedience.” To that extent, women’s lives were male-centered, restrictive, dependent, and religious.
Although ‘Zofloya’ was published in London, its primary setting is Venice. This choice of setting appears to be an attempt to avoid criticism of contemporary society. Since the novel’s content is quite scandalous and challenges social norms, the author opted for a setting distanced from reality. Novels with provocative content at that time often used settings from earlier eras or locations outside of England—typically in Europe, particularly Italy.
The effort to avoid criticism as a scandalous novel is made even clearer through the narrator’s ethical and moralizing remarks. The narrator expresses his opinions at the beginning, end, and throughout the novel, asserting that the purpose of the narrative is to warn readers against falling into similar temptations. For example, at the end of the novel, the narrator says:
“Readers, do not think this is merely a fictional tale. No matter how tightly one holds the reins over human desires and weaknesses, it is never enough. Evil progresses gradually and is imperceptible. That cunning enemy waits ceaselessly to profit when humanity stumbles. The ruin of humanity is his glory!”
At one point, the narrator even intervenes unexpectedly in the novel’s plot to express an opinion as if he were a character himself. This occurs during a scene where Leonardo is worrying about the future. At that moment, the narrator speaks directly to Leonardo:
I said, “Good heavens, for the heir of Loredani to suffer such disgrace! Perhaps you’d be happier if you stayed in the shadows. You might even be respected. But if you try to step into the light of betrayal, you’ll be despised and ignored! [……] Ah, no, Loredani, there’s no place for you in this world. Your reputation won’t allow it. I hope you never show your face in public!”
This intervention by the narrator might seem like a mistake caused by the author confusing the narrator with himself, but on the other hand, it can be read as a clear example of how cautious the author is regarding the (scandalous) plot. The author steps in directly to criticize the Loredani family’s adultery and disgrace. The narrator’s intervention is even somewhat exaggerated.
Perhaps the author wanted to make it clear, through the narrator, that Victoria and Leonardo’s lives were immoral and antisocial. Otherwise, the novel would have been regarded merely as a sensational story designed to titillate. For the novel to appeal to readers in a conservative era—especially female readers whose sexual desires were suppressed—it had to provide them with a “legitimate” reason to read it. Charlotte created that legitimacy through the “moral teacher” narrator.
However, ‘Jo-flo-ya’ should not be read merely as a didactic novel that emphasizes ethical living to readers. As mentioned earlier, the “moral teacher” narrator is merely a shell that wraps around the author’s essential message. So what story did the author actually intend to tell? Looking at the protagonist, Victoria, the true nature of the story becomes clearer.
Victoria is the embodiment of desire. At first, she desires Berenza, and later, she desires Enrique. Her desire stems from her mother. Witnessing her mother, Laurina, abandon her devoted husband to run off with Adolfo, Victoria envies her mother’s boldness in acting to satisfy her own desires.
It’s hard to explain, but at the time, Victoria viewed her mother’s union with Adolf as enchanting and blissful. Whenever Berenza showed her particular attention or courted her with words of love, she was overcome by an intense desire and longing to be like her ill-fated mother.
“I wanted to be cherished like my mother, to be swept away by sweet words and the passionate gaze of a lover.”
Seventeen-year-old Victoria felt a romantic attraction toward thirty-five-year-old Berenza. Despite the significant age difference, Berenza was a charming man.
As a “gentleman of exceptional sensibility and outstanding dignity,” he “had a stately bearing, and his face, though stern, was imbued with a captivating expression that drew in and delighted the gaze of others.”
Berenza became the idol of many women, and Victoria, consumed by a competitive spirit, sought to claim him first. She ultimately proved her passion by injuring herself and ended up marrying him.
However, once the competitive situation subsided, Victoria no longer desired Berenza. Her attention shifted to Enrique, who already had a fiancée, Lila. Lila is more youthful, innocent, and elegant than Victoria. Faced with such a formidable rival, Victoria feels an even more intense impulse, which ultimately leads her to commit murder.
Victoria’s behavior appears to be a variation of the Oedipus complex described by Sigmund Freud. Freud posits that a boy views his father as a rival and a threat, believing that without his father, he could have his mother all to himself. Meanwhile, fearing rejection or punishment from his father, the child maintains a tense relationship with him while simultaneously striving to emulate him. This gives rise to a psychological drive to secure his relationship with his mother.
Victoria’s process of identification is similar. She drugs Enrique, causing him to mistake her for Lila. Although temporary, by becoming Lila, she steals Enrique’s love. Just as a young boy tries to emulate his father to win his mother’s love, Victoria seeks to emulate her rival in order to win the competition.
Such lust, adultery, and crimes of passion can be seen, to some extent, as representing Charlotte’s own desires—and, by extension, the repressed desires of women of that era. Charlotte’s father abandoned his first wife and remarried the Countess. The fact that her wealthy Jewish father remarried the Count’s widow appears to have been an attempt to move into the upper echelons of mainstream society. In other words, marriage was likely a tool for social advancement for him.
Charlotte herself also fell in love with a married man. She bore him three children even while his wife was still alive. Although Charlotte’s affair was shocking in the conservative culture of London at the time, she did not seem to care much. When the man’s wife died, Charlotte had the children baptized and, four years later, married him openly. Her life was like a drama.
Charlotte’s desires should not be limited to simply the infidelity of one woman. She can be viewed as an avant-garde artist and women’s rights activist who revealed the repressed desires of many women at the time. At that time, women’s sexuality was regarded as a means of preserving the human race and a tool for male pleasure, and it was considered a sin for a woman to feel or express sexual desire. As Welter pointed out, a virtuous woman was expected to preserve her chastity, care for her children at home, and support her husband. Women’s autonomy was disregarded, and asserting their freedom and rights was viewed as sinful. Charlotte lived a life that challenged these sociocultural norms.
The novel must also be read within this context. Although a “moral teacher” narrator was introduced to provide a neutral perspective, what Charlotte ultimately sought was the expression of women’s autonomy, freedom, desire, and human rights. Although there is some exaggeration for dramatic effect, Charlotte sought to project this femininity through Victoria. In this context, then, who is Jofloya, and what does he symbolize?
On the surface, Jofloya is the “arch-enemy of all creation”—that is, Satan. At first, he appears before Victoria as a slave and servant—that is, a figure of the lowest social standing. He arrives at the Palazzo in Berenza alongside Enrique, but Victoria does not recognize his presence until he appears in her dreams. Zofloya emerges alongside the object of her desire, and as her desire intensifies, his very existence takes on meaning.
Zofloya stirs Victoria’s desire, covertly guiding her and actively supporting her in fulfilling it. To Victoria, Zofloya was a being who was at once wicked, terrifying, mysterious, and beautiful. “The Moor’s form shone brilliantly with elegant beauty, and his face was imbued with a sweet charm. His luminous yet affectionate gaze pierced her very core with intense tenderness.” Victoria gradually falls under Joploya’s spell and comes to rely on him; she begins to serve him—who was initially her slave—as both her lover and master. Victoria dedicates “her heart, body, and soul” to him forever, and ultimately meets a tragic end after falling victim to the insidious curse of Satan.
It was not as though Victoria had no chance of salvation. Before she was finally abandoned, an angel appeared to warn her.
“Leave the Moor, who is disguised as a liar, at once. Then heaven will guide your path. [……] But remember! [……] If you continue on the path you are now taking, death and eternal ruin will soon come upon you!”
Victoria ponders the angel’s warning for a moment but accepts that she has no other choice.
The angel’s appearance revives the classic “rewarding good and punishing evil” motif found in traditional fairy tales and embodies the theme of religious salvation. As an agent standing against evil (Zoploya), the angel reenacts the dichotomous moral concept of good and evil, while simultaneously confirming that human history is a narrative shaped by the clash between good and evil. If Zoploya is the manifestation of the unfaithful desires inherent in the human heart, the angel is the voice of conscience that upholds social norms.
Some scholars did not view Zoploya and Victoria as separate entities. Instead, they regarded them as a single subject and interpreted these two characters as projections of that subject’s duality. Every human being possesses two minds—one of good and one of evil—and is sometimes dominated by the good mind and sometimes by the evil mind. From this perspective, Zofloya embodies the evil mind.
Freud divided the psyche into the conscious and the unconscious. Unfulfilled desires accumulate in the unconscious; these desires, which Freud called the “id,” remain unfulfilled because they transcend the boundaries of social conventions and norms. These desires lie dormant in the unconscious and surface into consciousness through dreams or semi-conscious states.
Zoploya’s first appearance in Victoria’s dream can be understood precisely in this context. Zoploya’s emergence was the manifestation of the id inherent in Victoria’s unconscious. Consequently, Zoploya is another aspect of Victoria’s self—that is, the manifestation of desires that are not permitted by social conventions and are defined as sins by religion.
However, there is a problem with this interpretation. If Zoploya and Victoria are a single subject, and Zoploya represents evil desires, then Victoria must represent goodness. Yet the Victoria in the novel already possessed a wicked disposition even before meeting Zofloya. Therefore, interpreting Zofloya solely as the id of the unconscious warrants reconsideration.
“Zofloya” is commonly classified as a Gothic romance. While today “romance” typically refers to a love story, in the Middle Ages it signified a heroic narrative in which a hero overcomes hardships to rescue a lover. Looking at the novel’s content, “Zoploya” is closer to a love story, and in modern terms, it could even be described as a “soap opera.”
To elaborate further on the “Gothic” aspect, “Gothic” refers to the grand architectural style of the Middle Ages (12th–15th centuries). This style was primarily used in the construction of Catholic cathedrals and monasteries. As the influence of Catholicism waned alongside religious conflicts in the 16th century, many Gothic buildings were destroyed or fell into disrepair. Gothic novels use this historical and environmental context as the backdrop for their stories.
Gothic novels have several characteristics; summarizing the keywords listed in a class handout, they include: ancestral curses, anti-Catholic sentiment, cemeteries, claustrophobia, disguise (masks), demons, doppelgängers (identity confusion), dreams (nightmares), traps and confinement, supernatural phenomena or artifacts, exorcism, female archetypes, ghosts, the grotesque, haunted castles, evil spirits, the Inquisition, wonder and mystery, masochism, sadism, fog, mystery, spiritism, necrophilia, obsession, the protagonist on the run, ambiguity, mimicry, revenge, sleepwalking, sensitivity, grandeur, superstition, horror and dread, perversion, metamorphosis (transformation), unreliable narrator, vampires, anti-heroes, the Wandering Jew, werewolves, witches, and sorcery.
While “Zoploya” does not encompass all of the above characteristics, it reflects many of them. Among these, what modern readers should pay particular attention to are the majestic and sublime aspects of nature, such as “wonder and mystery” and “grandiosity.” In the face of vast nature, humans become insignificant beings, and the Creator and creation are symbolically contrasted. The Creator warns of human depravity through nature, but humans, having fallen into evil, ignore this warning.
For example, Victoria, after locking Lila in a cave prison and striving to claim Enrique for herself, sets off into the forest. The late-evening sky is covered with dark clouds, and thunder rumbles. Though blue-black lightning flashes and splits her path, she is consumed by inner conflict and pays no heed to nature’s warnings. A short while later, Victoria meets Jofloya to devise a scheme to deceive Enrique, and even then, “lightning split the sky and flashed vividly.” Jofloya warns her of the storm, but Victoria completely ignores nature’s warning, saying, “Oh, don’t worry about some storm!”
The grandeur of nature appears with increasing frequency as the novel nears its conclusion. In Volume 3, we see Victoria gazing upon the vast wilderness, her diminutive figure set against the awe-inspiring forest; the fantastical Alpine landscape she glimpses after killing Lila and teleporting there with Jofloya’s help; the mysterious natural scenery encountered on the way to Leonardo’s cave fortress, and the final description of Victoria struggling on a cliff while in Zofloya’s grasp—all of these serve to highlight the insignificance of humanity in the face of nature’s grandeur.
In addition, various elements of the Gothic novel can be found. For example, the anti-Catholic sentiment revealed through Madame Modena, the religious trial by the Council of Ten that Victoria fears, Joploya’s supernatural abilities, Victoria’s sadism toward Lila, Victoria’s doppelgänger disguised as Lila and the doppelgängers of Cato and Victoria, and the feminine exemplar of her mother Laurina—all these aspects reveal Gothic elements.
Even if not strictly Gothic elements, the racial issues surrounding the Moorish character Jofloya are also difficult to overlook. Motifs such as Black people, demons, sorcery, slavery, obscenity, and miscegenation frequently appear throughout the novel. The premise of a Black male slave having a relationship with a white aristocratic woman was extremely provocative at the time. On the other hand, it was sometimes viewed as a kind of fantasy by white aristocratic women who dreamed of transgression. Therefore, the relationship between the Moor and Victoria is controversial in many respects. As a reader, keeping these points in mind and searching for directly related passages or implied descriptions adds another layer of enjoyment to the reading experience.
