Take Your Choice:  Mezzotints of Naughty and Nice Girls after Thomas Spence Duché

A favorite subject in the  eighteenth-century was the parallel lives of a pair of boys whose lives diverged after childhood and went in radically different directions.   Probably the most famous one was William Hogarth’s Industry and Idleness (1747), a narrative in twelve engravings about two apprentices, one who rose to be Lord Mayor of London, the other hung as a murderer.

Because girls do not figure so often in stories of this kind (leading much more circumscribed lives than boys), Cotsen was delighted to acquire a pair of mezzotints contrasting the exemplary behavior of an industrious and an idle girl after Thomas Spence Duché, a pupil of Benjamin West who moved from Philadelphia to London during the American Revolution.   They were published by the London printseller Benjamin Beale Evans.

Thomas Lovegood (an imaginary name if there ever were one), dedicates the first engraving “To all sweet tempered industrious & obedient children.”  A perfect example of such a girl is shown seated to the right of a table, holding open the crisp pages of the writing book to show her beautiful copies of round hand italic capitals.  Tight blonde ringlets frame her sweet, mild face and the sheer dress is arranged gracefully over her lap and modestly closed knees. The caption,   “Who would not be GOOD to look so lovely?”  holds out the promise that exemplary behavior will make beauty to bloom, and as we all know, all things come to a fine-looking girl with agreeable manners.

Badness, on the other hand, is always supposed to put on an unattractive face, so Mr. Lovechild has dedicated the second print “To all pouting lazy illtempered lying & disobedient children.”   This little miss certainly embodies all those disagreeable traits.  The wretched girl wears the same dress as the other one but sits in an ungainly and immodest pose, skirt rumpled, knees akimbo. Her book, open to the pictures, has the tell-tale sign of neglect, folded and creased pages.  Next to the book is a switch, which has probably been applied to her bottom The engraver is one Henry Birch, which Richard Earlom used as a pseudonym, but context suggests was a joke.  She stares out of the picture at the viewer while one hand plays with the tousled, messy hair on her temple.  “Who would be NAUGHTY to look so ugly?”  asks the title. Around her neck is a string threaded through a leather strip reading “Lyar.”  She is crowned with a dunce’s cap.  She ought to look ashamed for being publicly humiliated this way, but she doesn’t look particularly sorry for whatever it was she did to deserve this punishment.

Miss Sulky is not wearing the tall cone made of paper associated with schoolroom shaming of pupil or master.  Hers is a truly magnificent specimen, modelled on the cap and bells traditionally worn by Folly on the left of the cut below. (Minerva is seated to the right, holding out a book to the boy, who has to chose between the two of them.)  I have no idea what the meaning of symbols above the label on which “Dunce” is printed might be.St. Nicholas’ Day has already flown past, but there’s still time to clean up your act before Christmas Eve.  Which little girl will you remember?  Whose example will you take to heart?

It’s in the Box: French Promotional Giveaways for Children about Africa

Once upon a time, cereal shopping was an adventure. While mother made the circuit of the aisles, her child disappeared to the cereal section to decide which one had the best giveaway.  The cereal manufacturers were hoped to make the child pine for all their promised prizes so he or she would ask to buy more boxes of their products, supposedly creating brand loyalty. When mother arrived, negotiations began about what brand her darling wanted versus what she was willing to buy, having given in before and seen boxes of untouched cereal stripped of the prizes going stale on the shelf.  We can give thanks to the Kellogg Company of Battle Creek, Michigan for putting the first promotional giveaway for children, Funny Jungleland Moving Pictures (1909), in boxes of cornflakes.

European corporations also have used this diabolical advertising strategy in the promotion of food products to children.  Several ambitious examples of collectible premiums about Africa were added to Cotsen’s collection of advertising ephemera because they looked like an underused source for studying how corporations doing business in particular countries presented to children those cultures formerly under European control.

Africorama was a promotional giveaway ca. 1967 for Petit-Exquis cookies by the L’Alsacienne brand, which had been baking the buttery treats since the 1920s.  The cookie box contained a color enamel metal flag of an African nation. There were two sets, 20 representing the Muslim countries of Africa, and 28 for the “pays noirs” or Black countries. The set in Cotsen has all of the flags except for the Rhodesian one.  Most of the copies coming on the market are seriously defective, so it is unusual to have one so complete.  On the picture of the cookie box to the left, the metal tabs of the flags can be seen. The metal flags were supposed to be displayed on a  folded, perforated cardboard sheet illustrated by Wilquin.  The flags came with the cookies, but the child-collector had to write away for the sheets if they were to be displayed.  The set for the Muslim countries features a full-length portrait of a Berber Tuareg warrior, a Bantu warrior on the Black one. The back of the cardboard display has a big illustrated advertisement for Petit-Exquis cookies, but no clues why L’Alsacienne was issuing such an elaborate giveaway.

The second example of a French promotional giveaway, La collection La Vache qui Rit, also dates from the 1960s.  The semi-soft cheese had been sold in Africa since the 1930s and the continent remains a big market for the product.  Tucked into the little circular cardboard packages containing the cheese were illustrated cards the same size and shape. The child determined to acquire a complete set had to convince his mother to purchase over 200 boxes of cheese. I suspect many mothers were of two minds about that unless her family consumed a great deal of La Vache qui Rit anyway.  Similar to Africorama, single cards and one or the other of the display sheets are not hard to come by, a set as large as this takes persistence and time to accumulate.

The cards, none of which are signed by the artist, are in French and Dutch.  They illustrate in rather attractive detail African animals, arts and crafts, indigenous costumes, and relations between the European colonizers and native Africans in the Belgian Congo. The cards could be stood up for display if cut along the indicated lines on the front and folded as directed. The pictures are captioned, but there is no explanatory text on the back: they are blank. The subjects are quite intriguing; surely many children would have been curious to learn more about what they saw. To look at these cards, no one would have any idea that the Congo had been roiled by political turmoil since it was granted independence by Belgium in 1960.To understand why these two French corporations produced such attractive, elaborate promotional giveaways, one needs to know something about the history of European corporate investment in Africa during the twentieth century.   Have economists studied this phenomenon to learn more about how corporate strategies for increasing market share at home and possibly abroad devised these sets?  Who came up with the ideas?  Who was responsible for the projects, which could not have executed quickly or cheaply.   Was there a motive other than an economic one for making these giveaways?

How might the presentation of Africa in these promotions might have affected French children and African children living in France or abroad?  When were French children taught about the history of their country’s colonization of Africa?   Would they have been exposed to news about Africa in the press, radio, and television? What attitudes towards non-European people were reflected in the illustrations? How would they have compared with those in school books, leisure reading, or the media?  Would children have heard similar or different views expressed by the adults in their families?   And do reminiscences of collecting promotional giveaways as children survive?  Is collecting this kind of ephemera bound up with nostalgia in the same way as it is in America?