History: Q. K. Philander Doesticks & A Lesson on Hypocrisy

Mortimer and The Witches: A History of Nineteenth Century Fortune Tellers by Marie Carter uncovers the misunderstood and forgotten stories of fortune tellers living in New York City through the lens of Q.K. Philander Doesticks' The Witches of New York. Written in 1859, The Witches of New York documented the accounts of Doesticks who visited various fortune tellers undercover in pursuit of exposing them and their trade. Doesticks' ill perception of fortune tellers, many of whom were women living in poverty, informed much of the book. Despite his disdain for fortune telling and the women who practiced it, Doesticks' life in and of itself sort of parallels the very thing he condemned. Ultimately, the gimmick that was Q.K. Philander Doesticks would yield to the pressures of being Mortimer Thompson. 

Mortimer Thompson was a fascinating and rambunctious person who treated life with a sort of whimsy. He was born in New York and would later move to Michigan where he was mostly raised. He would eventually be expelled from Michigan University as a result of dabbling in secret societies, an early indication of his rebellious and reckless spirit. His pseudonym, Q.K. Philander Doesticks, P.B.  is short for "Queer Kritter Philander Doesticks, Perfect Brick" - what a mouthful. 

Thompson penned various pieces throughout his career, one of his most notable being The Witches of New York which dissected his personal encounters with tarot readers living in New York City during the 1800s. Tarot card reading and fortune telling was seen as a scandalous profession, riddled as nefarious and shady.

A printed portrait of Mortimer Thompson.

There was a gross misunderstanding of the profession that was fortune telling. Society often thought of fortune telling in the same vein as prostitution, or even as a form of it. During the Victorian era, fortune telling was a feminine profession with women at the center of the helm. It was for this reason that the profession was highly scrutinized; it went against the traditions and expectations of what women ought to be doing with themselves and with their time. 

What Thompson, and many of his peers failed to understand, was that fortune telling was more than quackery and gimmick - it exposed a larger issue that plagued women during this time. Many of the fortune tellers exposed in Thompson's book lived in abysmal, crowded conditions often in most impoverished neighborhoods of New York City. The lives of these women (and handful of men) were characterized and dictated on survival and making ends meet.

​During the mid to late 1800s, lower class women had very little opportunity to support themselves financially. They were limited to certain specialities, often ones that were painful, demanding, and physically laborious. Fortune telling, in comparison to those other occupations, was less punishing and gave women flexibility in ways they wouldn't have otherwise. For instance, being able to tell fortunes without ever having to leave home gave women the ability to care for their children while also earning money. Fortune telling also provided women with autonomy and agency over their own earnings, especially for those whose husbands were lacking in stability as breadwinners. There were many instances during that time of women who were abandoned by their husbands who couldn't keep up with the economic demands of living in New York City - think immigrants who just arrived, and had to make ends meet somehow.

Thompson was very critical of fortune telling, and more-so of the women who participated in it. He did not have a contextual understanding of the reasons why someone might be driven to the profession, rather he judged them before he ever even gave them a chance. 

What's fascinating about Mortimer and The Witches: A History of Nineteenth Century Fortune Tellers is this emphasis on how Thompson describes these women's attributes and physical appearance. He truly does depict and see these women as witches - decrepit, dirty, and brittle. You get the sense that he is somewhat disgusted by them, and is, from the beginning, detached from his interactions with them. Thompson went into these readings under a guise, never fully indulging details of himself or his life. Before he even gave them a chance, he was skeptical and that followed throughout his life.

Thompson's life was less than idyllic in comparison to his witch counterparts. Although he was wealthier and had some social standing, Thompson was just as scandalous as he spent money frivolously, was not the most present father with his children, and unfortunately dabbled in alcohol as a form of comfort. Needless to say, he had faults of his own. In Carter's book, Thompson isn't this magical humorist who seizes the day with his wit and pen; he is an imperfect human being, just like the women he judged. 

Thompson's own downfall during his later years might be a reflection of his inability to cope with the reality of his life. Perhaps it goes to show that there isn't much of a buffer when it comes to suffering. All of us have to face it, and even when we think we're far from the noise, it might just be creeping up on us at any moment. Thompson may have been no better than who he was judging. 

The women who survived New York City during the 1800s are deserving of more nuance than those who misrepresented them. In alignment with this sentiment, the Tenement Museum in New York City does a fabulous job at showcasing the lives of these women in a raw and empathic way - many of whom existed during Thompson's time. Even in our society today, who are we to judge what people are doing with their lives? This ridiculous focus on detail rather than zooming out to see the wider picture is the greatest folly of mankind.