Zoonomian

Like any normal person, I decorate my bathroom with Victorian engravings of anthropomorphised monkeys.

Monkey Brand Soap adverts from The Graphic 1897 and The Illustrated London News 1901. Monkey Brand aficionados might note that between the two pics ownership changed from Benjamin Brookes to Lever Brothers - an early incarnation of the giant Unilever business we know and love today. (Photos of original prints in Tim Jones's collection)

These ones depict the kind of half ape / half-monkey used by Benjamin Brooke and Lever Brothers to promote Monkey Brand soap, a super-popular cleaning product at the turn of the twentieth century.

There’s an intriguing little strap line at the bottom of these simian vignettes, that catches the eye and, in those contemplative loo moments, piques the interest for further research.  But it’s a fleeting urge, that, probably down to the familiarity of the visit, is seconds later flushed from thought – the cycle repeating hundreds of times a year.  Which is why I only now know why Monkey Brand “WON’T WASH CLOTHES“.

'Won't Wash Clothes' Monkey Brand Advert (Photo of original print in Tim Jones's collection)

It was spotting these chunks of the real thing at the Museum of London recently that shocked me out of lavatorial mind-lock and prompted an evening of Googling proper research.

Monkey Brand Soap at the Museum of London (Photo: Tim Jones)

Never mind the technical stuff on soap making, which in the detail is surprisingly thin on the ground for this brand, digging around reveals a keen interest by social and cultural historians, public relations types, and advertising scholars.  They’ve dissected the what, why, and wherefore of a marketing strategy curiously underpinned by these pseudo-human creatures.

Monkey Brand Advert 'The Graphic' Christmas Number 1897 (Photo of original print in Tim Jones's collection)

Essentially, the gist of these socio-cultural and commercial analyses is that the monkey was used (consciously and unconsciously) as symbolic commentary with respect to contemporary issues around race, gender and class; representing an idea of change in the Victorian mind that went beyond the obvious clean-dirty associations.  The tens of different Monkey Brand ads produced at this time – and that you can easily find floating around the web today – are a semioticians dream.  For more on this aspect, check out this post at the ‘Notes on the arts and visual culture blog’, and this essay (pdf file) ‘Soft Soaping Empire’.

Back at the technical front, it seems the reason Monkey Brand ‘won’t wash clothes’ was because it was loaded with an abrasive mineral – probably pumice (volcanic ash) – which would almost certainly put a hole through your favourite bib and tucker.  Pumice contains shock-cooled glassy particles, consistent with the abrasive properties of the soap.   I thought it might have been alkaline, acidic, or poisonous – but apparently not so.  And while mostly used on dirty grates and rusty bicycles, there’s a hint of an endorsement for use as an occasional toothpaste, although this story from 1908, of an old lady wearing a hole through her denture plate, suggests that’s not such a good idea.  Ah, the good old days.

So maybe it’s called Monkey Brand because it’s scratchy, and monkeys scratch themselves – right?  So much for my valuable addition to Monkey Brand research.

You can still get something along the lines today: like this LAVA soap, with ‘Pumice Power’ no less.  Fantastic: “The hand cleaner of choice for do-it-yourselfers, coal miners, and oil rig workers“.  Just hope they rinse well before pawing their iPads.

Get serious (Wikicommons)

I was a young kid in the 60′s, when the only pads we knew were of the Brillo variety, but I don’t remember having pumice impregnated soap around.  Although I’m a bit confused thanks to a conversation I had with my mum when I was an embryo (well,  five or six), involving a bar of soap and her talking about ‘lava’, when what she probably said was ‘lather’.  Then again, I must have got this ever-youthful complexion from somewhere.