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Article written by Jen Campbell. First published 25 April 2023.

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Article written by Jen Campbell. First published 25 April 2023.

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With a focus on Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, Jen Campbell examines how historical beliefs about disfigurement and disability are explored in Victorian Gothic fiction.

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Illustration from 1930 edition of Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde.  Public Domain.

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Illustration showing man looking in fear at mysterious shadowy figure#.

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Until the late 1800s, anyone born with a disfigurement or a disability could be medically referred to as a ‘monster’, or as someone who came from a ‘monstrous birth.’ As a disabled person myself, I find this both a difficult and interesting subject to investigate: why were these things believed, and how did writers explore these beliefs in their work? Let us examine this in conjunction with Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson: a Gothic novella from 1886 about Dr Jekyll, a well-respected, ‘smooth faced’ man, whose drug use transformed him into his alter ego, a ‘deformed’ murderer by the name of Mr Hyde.

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The theory of physiognomy

Historically, so-called ‘monstrous births’ were tied to ancient ideas of physiognomy, preformationism and original sin. Physiognomy is the belief that a person’s outward appearance reflects their inner character and the condition of their soul, specifically how ‘whole’ that soul is. In Stevenson’s novella, Jekyll explains how his ‘good’ and ‘evil’ personas change his physical appearance. In his confession, he notes that ‘even as good shone upon the countenance of the one, evil was written broadly and plainly on the face of the other. Evil …had left on that body an imprint of deformity’ (p. 58). Likewise, other characters in the book remark that there is ‘something wrong with [Hyde’s] appearance… He must be deformed’ (p. 10). Utterson describes Hyde as ‘pale and dwarfish’, saying his voice is ‘broken’ and that his face has ‘Satan’s signature’ (p. 58). Contrast this with the description of Jekyll’s appearance: ‘a large, well-made, smooth faced man of fifty, every mark of capacity and kindness’ (p. 41). Even Hyde’s house is personified for us: it has a ‘blind forehead of discoloured wall… [and] bore in every feature the marks of prolonged and sordid negligence. The door… was blistered’ (p. 6). All of this encourages the reader to judge appearance when assessing moral character – the aforementioned physiognomy.

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We can trace the idea of physiognomy as far back as Ancient Greece, when during theatre performances it was expressed with the use of masks – an image that is central to The Phantom of the Opera by Gaston Leroux, first published in 1909–10 and later adapted for film and the stage. In Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, Hyde himself wears a mask while tiptoeing through Jekyll’s house. The ‘theatre’ where he keeps his drugs not only refers to his medical experiments, but also the performance of selfhood. Similar imagery regarding physical appearance and duality of self would appear four years later in The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde, as well as in other Victorian Gothic stories.

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To this day, Stevenson’s Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde is cited as an influence for many modern-day fictional characters, including the Hulk/Dr Bruce Banner (Marvel Comics) and Doctor Poison (DC Comics). It should be noted that even though, both morally and scientifically, most people no longer believe in physiognomy, it remains a widespread literary device used in books and films with harmful consequences for the disabled community. In this article from 2021, I wrote about the harmful effects caused by the disfigurement-villainy trope found in the James Bond franchise and other films.

Preformationism and original sin

Preformationism, a concept that was losing steam in the late 19th century due to the theory of evolution, was the belief that God simultaneously created man and woman and the cells of all future human beings in one moment. Hal Hellman summarises preformationism as the belief that ‘all embryos existed, preformed though infinitesimally tiny, in either the egg or the sperm’ (Great Feuds in Science). This would make every generation a series of nesting dolls, constantly revealing themselves over time. One of the issues with preformationism was that it did not explain those born with disabilities, so it was decided that in instances of ‘monstrous births’ either human action was to blame, such as pregnant women having overactive imaginations; or there was changeling involvement; or disability and disfigurement were appearing as proof of original sin.

In some cases, it was believed the latter could be changed with ‘good’ behaviour and prayer. This punishment-redemption trope is used widely in fairy tales, such as in Beauty and the Beast. Likewise, ‘bad’ behaviour is often connected to bodily punishment in Victorian Gothic fiction (such as in the example of Mr Rochester in Jane Eyre, who at the end of the novel is visually impaired and has a hand amputated after the fire at Thornfield Hall). We also see, in Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, Mr Utterson remarking: ‘Poor Harry Jekyll… he is in deep waters! He was wild when he was young… it must be that; the ghost of some old sin, the cancer of some concealed disgrace: punishment coming’. Here, Utterson is speculating that Hyde and his disfigurements are the result of some sinful behaviour, displayed in bodily form, for all the world to see.

How does this connect to Victorian popular culture?

Speaking of bodies being displayed for all the world to see, when Stevenson wrote Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, the Victorian ‘freak show' was an extremely popular and controversial phenomenon. Part of these shows involved disabled people performing on stage or being displayed in cages for paying customers to look at. Circus owners, such as PT Barnum, claimed that disabled people were proof of evolution – part man, part animal – and performers were given names to reflect that, such as ‘The Dog-Faced Man’ and ‘The Bear Lady’. In Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, it is therefore interesting to think of Jekyll’s drugs cabinet as a possible reference to the cabinets of curiosities so often displayed alongside ‘freak shows’. It is also worth considering Jekyll’s experiments and bodily transformations in the context of a Victorian society that sensationalised, mythologised and exploited disabled people of the time.

Page numbers above are from The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde and Other Tales of Terror by Robert Louis Stevenson (Penguin Classics, 2003).

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Article written by Jen Campbell

Jen Campbell is an award-winning poet and bestselling author of 12 books for adults and children, spanning poetry, nonfiction, short stories and picture books. She is also a freelance editor, disability advocate, and she reviews books online, in print and on the radio. Her most recent book Marceline: Defender of the Sea is out now from HarperCollins. Find out more at: www.jen-campbell.co.uk

The text in this article is available under the Creative Commons License.

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