I Am Bewhiskered! Respect Me!

As a Facially-Haired American, I thought I’d set the record straight on the traditions of my people.

The words ‘beard’ and ‘whiskers’ connoted distinctive styles in mid-nineteenth century America-and contemporaries used the words differently than we do. The word ‘whiskers’ typically referred not only to bushy cheek growths-to massive sideburns and muttonchops, as it does in the present-but to what we would call a ‘wreath beard’ as well: to facial hair configurations that met beneath the jaw. Edgar Allan Poe, for example, described one fellow writer as having “[t]hick whiskers meeting under the chin,” and another whose “hair and whiskers are dark, the latter meeting voluminously beneath the chin.” One might even use the word whisker to refer to what we would call a moustache. Writer Edward L. Carey, for instance, referred to a character with a “whisker on [his] upper lip” in a story entitled “The Young Artist.”

‘Beards,’ on the other hand, were more unruly affairs. In an article in the American Phrenological Journal entitled “Wearing the Beard,” for instance, the anonymous F.W.E. instructed beard-wearers that, contrary to the practice of bewhiskered men, “Thou shalt not cut it off at all, but let it grow. Let it grow, all of it, as long as it will.” What often distinguished beards from whiskers, then, was neither facial real-estate nor the length of one’s hair-one might wear a short, untamed beard-in-the-making or a long, carefully-sculpted set of whiskers-but rather one’s relationship to the work of men’s grooming. Hairy men who continued to visit the barber, trim their mustaches, or wax their locks wore whiskers; men who let their facial hair grow unrestrained sported beards.

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  1. I live in Alaska and I too wear a beard. A good portion of the males in this state wear beards. They wear them for protection against the cold in winter, and mosquitoes in summer. Both are good and valid reasons to wear a beard, but I wear one mainly because as far as I’m concerned…shaving sucks.


  2. Huh. All this time I thought I had a beard, but I guess it was just whiskers (my normal facial hair situation is neatly trimmed arrangement very like Commander William Riker’s on Star Trek: The Next Generation.

    Of course, right now, I really do have a beard. Haven’t shaved or trimmed since April 15th, and I won’t do so until my Penguins are either eliminated or bring the Stanley Cup back to Pittsburgh.



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