John Wood Sweet’s The Sewing Girl’s Tale: A story of rape, gender, & class in late 18th century New York City

The reader will notice that a dazzling number of prizes are listed …

Dear Readers and Friends,

This in the spirit of say the TLS’s recent issue where supposedly famous people who are themselves often writers are asked what was your favorite, or did you think was the best or most important book(s) you read this year? For once I have a single candidate, and for once the number of prizes given are not in inverse proportion to a book’s merits — though I admit I am a year late. The Sewing Girl’s Tale was published in 2022.

But it’s as fresh and excellent and relevant a book as it was the day it was published, and as the story that’s recounted of a long series of connected events 230 years ago. Sweet offers a fully researched and documented account of the rape of a lower-middle class young unmarried female seamstress Lanah Sawyer by a well-connected upper class or aristocratic male — he led a life of privilege with access to opportunities for power and wealth — that occurred Wednesday-Thursday, September 4-5, 1793, in the late mid-night to dawn hours in a locked room in the brothel of Madame Carey in lower New York. What makes it doable is that her stepfather, John Callahan, a successful ship pilot (no easy job — he boarded other men’s vessels, assumed command, and guided the ships safely into or out of port), went to court to accuse Bedlow of rape; the case actually was tried at length, and much of what was said written down by an ambitious young lawyer, William Wyche. The jury’s decision resulted in angry class-induced riots and extended newspaper debates. The members of all the involved families, other individuals testifying, variously involved by proximity, family, friend, professional relationship left papers; that stage of capitalist colonialist society is already wash with property and other kinds of documents.

John Wood Sweet has studied all these to show in a rivetingly supple prose how from the outset Lanah Sawyer was at a severe disadvantage because the stance set up demanded she prove she had resisted vigorously, sustained conspicuous physical injuries, reported the crime quickly, and her “side” could not be shown to be going to court to destroy the reputation (life, career) of the male accused, especially if he was a man of property or standing. It never mattered that Bedlow lied to Lanah to lure her to walk out with him, intended to seduce and/or rape her, or any of the unfair tactics he used. All the savaging of her character that his side could do is listened to; the lies, for example, that the brothel madam concocted against Lanah are given credence after she is shown to be a liar. We see how much on top of gender-distrust of women nuanced levels of class, connections, mattered every step of the way. How important intelligent lawyers with teams of people providing evidence. Sweet remarks “the fact that Lanah Sawyer managed” to win over enough people is a “testament to her courage, to her emotional endurance, and to her ability to inspire trust and sympathy” (122). And none of it would have happened had her stepfather not been himself a man of strong determined character who would “not be circumvented.”

The case did not stop there Callahan went on to sue Bedlow in civil court (where point of view of the legal precedents were not so much about women’s sexuality as the loss of income) for seduction of his stepdaughter, damaging both her and her family’s reputation, loss of time and labor (equals money); and this time Callahan and Sawyer won an enormous sum for the time, $4,500, the payment for which landed Bedlow in debtor’s prison. So after all there were many people in the court who found Bedlow’s masculine predation unacceptable. Bedlow countersued over Callahan’s assault (now alleged) of him; more fascinatingly, one of the lawyers involved on Bedlow’s side of the case, Alexander Hamilton (himself), may have been involved (and was accused by Callahan’s lawyers) in the production of a forged letter allegedly written by Lanah retracting all she had said as lies. This takes us into one of the more sordid love affairs of Hamilton, which itself involved clearly forced “love-sick epistles” written by Hamilton’s possible mistress.

Wood’s narrative study has been widely reviewed for such a book (e.g, New York Times, Kirkus, Amazon Publishers Weekly), the Gotham Center for New York City history, with interviews on C-Span, YouTube.

Sawyer’s is not the only non-fictional case of this type to have attracted a couple of centuries of attention: another is that of Elizabeth Canning who claimed to have been brutally abducted, and kept in a locked room for a full month, beaten, threatened and starved. I found the books on her and studies a lot less satisfying as there is seems the young woman has not been fully vindicated despite Henry Fielding’s heroic attempts to rescue her (whose pamphlet I’ve read) from calumny after a Lord Mayor and judge at the trial decided they could try her for perjury and won a verdict of guilty, whereupon she was transported. I’m as relieved as Sweet to be able to say both young women eventually married and seem to have lived a calm respectable life eventually, but sorry to have to say Canning’s case was taken up by Josephine Tey in her fictionalized version of it as The Franchise Affair where class more than gender prejudice led Tey to re-smear the girl and resurrect the seemingly deathless idea that women are prone to make false accusations to cover up their transgressive sexual activity.

Moore’s book is a study in the ambiguities of all the testimonies and how what people paid attention to tells us more about them at that moment, who they are, how they relate, and the class impositions of variously prejudiced attitudes towards far more than sex itself at the time

That Sweet firmly believes Lanah’s story and sees the trial’s first outcome as the result of misogynistic and class prejudice enables his book to have the clarity it does. I think it also part of the book’s singular virtues that he does see what happened in terms of today’s psychology as it comes down to us from the eighteenth century — as for example, found in Richardson’s Clarissa, which I wrote my dissertation on and have written two recent papers, one directly on rape in the 18th century and today, and the other the film adaptation by David Nokes.


A scene from the movie where the brothel prostitutes help the rapist hold Clarissa down

Among the pleasures of this text are revealing descriptions of the places in New York City where all the different scenes take place; it is written like a mystery-thriller so we never learn what is going to happen next until it happens. So at one point we are told evidence shows that Lanah Sawyer hanged herself, and we have to read into the next chapter, several paragraphs on to discover that she survived. Sweet’s research went well past immediate documents; he discovered this act of Lanah’s by a couple of lines written by the novelist, Susannah Rowson (Charlotte Temple: A Tale of Truth, 1797), who happened to be in New York at the time of the Bedlow trial, and was the cousin of the editor the Vermont Gazette where this detail was published as “the event that provoked the riots — news of the inconsolable young lady’s suicide attempt” (219-220).


The kind of dress Lanah would have been wearing: printed cotton held together with straight pins and drawstrings — from Sweet’s book

Here, though, we do come upon the one drawback of the book: all the words we have left by Lanah herself are the testimony she gave that was written down, testimony necessarily shaped the questions put to her. We are left without any look into the real tone of her mind, the subjective thoughts she must have had; we are left to guess why she does what she does by what is left of her outward actions. We have a great deal — like who she went to directly after she escaped the locked room, and the sequence of events that transpired among her relatives and associates, but nothing of a subjective inwardness. The book is not a novel, and my guess is that Sweet decided not to fictionalize at any point on the grounds it would weaken the effect of his book, and I think he made the right decision.

At any rate, no woman reader or anyone interested in the issues the case swirls round upon, should miss this book. An appendix tells of where Sweet did his research and what he found of particular interest; the notes include full sources and are of great interest in themselves.

Ellen

Halloween/Samhain & a talk on Bookstore fiction: includes ghosts, historical fiction, mysteries


Opening episode of Outlander: Frank in the rain sees a ghostly highlander looking up at Claire through a window, he enters the room which feels haunted … (Outlander s1:E1, Sassenach)

Fantasies of the Bookstore: combine community & retail space, with meaningful location; you know you are in one when you walk in. Where it is on the planet, what’s across the street matters. The staff, which kinds of books, the atmosphere, language behavior of everyone … (see below, 2nd half of blog)


Isabella Thorpe (Carey Mulligan and Catherine Morland (Felicity Jones) in a Bath bookshop, Northanger Abbey, 2007, scripted A Davies)

Dear Friends and readers,

I’ve been meaning to write a blog for ever so long — on a foremother poet, Anne Stevenson (1933-2020), whose poetry tribute to Jane Austen I’ve put here more than once (“Re-reading Jane,” scroll down), but it is taking me time to read through her collected poems, essays on her, and essays by her (on Elizabeth Bishop, the biography of Sylvia Plath). Tonight I am only ready to share one poem by her, which relates to my eventual topic for this blog: bookstore fiction

Paper,

the beauty of it,
the simple, strokeable, in-the-handness of it,
the way it has of flattering ink,
giving it to understand that
nothing matters
until it is printed or written down
to be cherished on paper.

The way old paper levels time,
is the archive’s treasure,
is evidence talking to your fingers
when passion, two hundred years dead,
filters through the ink-net that,
pen in and, a lover once spread for his mistress,
ignorantly scooping the archivist
into his catch.

The connoisseur of wine
keeps company with the connoisseur of paper,
as the typesetter, rag-testing, rice-testing,
escapes from the glaze of the computer
to explore with a fingertip
an elegant topography
reserved exclusively for types he likes
and faces that delight him.

All the same,
the virtual truths of the TV
and the on-going game of what happens
sluice through the global drain
in a torrent of paper.
Throw it away or save it,
every day as it dies
instantly becomes news on paper.

Why, say the silicon people,
keep house in a paper graveyard?
The future is digital, clean indestructible,
the great web’s face book and bird’s nest.
No fingerprint can be lost,
no fact of identity missed.
All’s for the best
in the best of all paperless worlds.

The afterlife? To live on, on line,
without a mind of one’s own?
I can’t love these fidgety digits!
I want to go home,
I want to keep warm in my burrow
of piled up paper —
fool’s passion, dried grief, live hands of dead friends,
story I’ll keep turning the pages of,
until it ends.

You cannot have a bookstore without paper.

I had been thinking — as appropriate to Halloween — to write on the connection of ghosts to historical fiction, how the deep roots of historical fiction is the ghost, a desire to bring to life revenants who once lived and the world they inhabited, so author and her readers can take refuge there too. The best historical fiction writers, and in my view, these include Winston Graham, Diana Gabaldon (who Anne Stevenson wrote a short column in praise of), Hilary Mantel and Penelope Fitzgerald, are aware of this, discuss it, exploit it.

Only the second writes nothing but historical fiction, but all discuss ghosts in, and sometimes while they as author-narrator, are in their historical novels. Thus it is at Halloween, Samhain in Outlander that Claire is spirited away to the mid-18th century in Inverness, Scotland by means of an ancient or neolithic circle of stones. In the third episode of the first season, Claire listens to a bard sing in Gaelic, the core of the journey story she has just begun as one repeatedly met with:

[audience muttering] [singing in Gaelic] Now this one is about a man out late on a fairy hill on the eve of Samhain who hears the sound of a woman singing sad and plaintive from the very rocks of the hill.
[eerie music] [Gaelic singing continues] “I am a woman of Balnain.
“The folk have stolen me over again, ‘ “the stones seemed to say.
“I stood upon the hill, and wind did rise, and the sound of thunder rolled across the land.
” [singing in Gaelic] “I placed my hands upon the tallest stone “and traveled to a far, distant land “where I lived for a time among strangers who became lovers and friends.
” [singing in Gaelic] “But one day, I saw the moon came out “and the wind rose once more.
“so I touched the stones “and traveled back to my own land “and took up again with the man I had left behind.
” [applause] She came back through the stones? Aye, she did.
They always do.
It was a folktale, madness to take as fact, and yet half of what Gwyllyn had described had actually happened to me.
Why not the other half, the part where the woman returned home? What had Geillis said? As I told you, there’s many things in this world we can’t explain. (Outlander S1:E3, The Way Out)


Elinor Tomlinson and Aiden Turner as dream figures, Demelza and Ross Poldark (2016 Poldark season)

I know more than a couple of times Winston Graham has thoughtful discussions of how difficult it is to know the past, how much of what we think we know about it is more than half-imagination, and dreaming imagination at that. See my paper called “After the Jump.” Historical Fiction and Films seem to exist at a kind of cross-roads of remembered and researched revenants and today’s analogous worlds — sometimes inhabited by sleuths and book writers and lovers (as in A. S. Byatt’s Possession). See my blog quoting a wonderful evocation of this by Caryl Phillips (on Crossing the River).

How I love especially to go back to the 18th century and Scotland: I reveled in Naomi Mitchison’s Bull Calves and the movie, Chasing the Deer (about Culloden). I told of this in my blog on a paper (linked in) and conference and (would you believe?) actual real trip to Culloden.

Yesterday afternoon I was much stirred by books on Mantel’s fiction by Lucy Arnold: Haunted Decades and a collection of essays gathered by Eileen Pollard and Ginette Carpenter where spectral realism is the terrain re-imagined. Thomas Cromwell becomes more crowded in by ghosts as we move through his life, and that of Mantel’s stealth heroine, Anne Boleyn, whom Henry Fielding wrote a ghostly history of in his A Journey from this World to the Next. Haunted all her life, says a Slate column.


Mark Rylance and Natasha Little as Thomas Cromwell fearful as he walks up the stairs to where Elizabeth Cromwell now dead has become a ghost (Wolf Hall, the serial)

My previous blog is about my friend Tyler Tichelaar’s fiction and non-fiction, which moves between historical and gothic supernatural stories.

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Early important writer of these books in series forms

But today I was stirred by a talk I heard (on zoom) with a Book History group, the WAPG (Washington Area Print Group) I’ve long attended (though the last three years online): by Dr Eben J. Muse, who has recently written a study of the bookstore novel, Fantasies of the Bookstore. His book is partly a bibliographical tool for finding these books, for which he provides two sites on the Net: a full bibliographies of bookstore novels: https://bit.ly/bookstore_novel
And a bookselling Research Network: http://booksellingresearchnet.uk

And now I finally have a topic for blog fitting for the autumn season — and Halloween.

His talk was about the other part of his book: in “In her Own Right: Women Booksellers in the Bookstore Novel” he described what he said was a intertwined set of tropes found across bookstore novels, especially when they are owned or managed by women, which motives seemed to me are all found in one of my favorite of all books, Penelope Fitzgerald’s The Bookshop: I’ve taught the book and film more than once, and written about it here too.

What is a bookstore today? why, it’s a cultural interaction space, combining a community with retail space, whose location, kinds of books, atmosphere, staff and customers’ behavior matters. They are usually indie stores, with the subgenre beginning in 1917, becoming more widespread in the 1980s, and reaching a high peak of numbers first between 1985-1995, and since then multiplying especially 2016-17. They are often series, combine mysteries with ghosts (Fitzgerald’s book has a spiteful poltergeist). What happens is the heroine invents an identity for herself by becoming a bookstore owner and manager, who knows how to make a profit from books, how to sell them, make them appealing. She often herself does not care for them herself as reading matter (Fitzgerald’s Florence Green does). The bookstore becomes her way of integrating with the community at a distance, and is often an act of defiance (which in the case of Florence, she tragically loses), but can also be her sanctuary. When there is a murder, it may be that the bookstore becomes a place where someone abusive is killed. There is a deep intimate tie between the place, the space, and the heroine’s role in the story. They are frequently literary fictions, often romances too. We should ask why is the central figure repeatedly a woman?


It’s in the last 30 years that women authors have begun to dominate this subgenre — though it would seem the bookseller character has usually been a woman

Afterwards the talk ranged far and close. We talked of how Victorian got Their Books (the title of someone’s paper published in a book on Victorian bookselling, buying, reading. Bookstores on Cape Cod recently where one kept a map of other bookstores. Someone mentioned The Ghost of Mrs McClure by Cleo Coyle, pseudonyn of Alice Kimberley. Peter Shillingsburg’s formidable sounding Textuality and Knowledge was mentioned: if you don’t know the original form the book took when printed (unabridged, uncensored) you are not grounding yourself in reality. So much for what passes for a book with so many people now. The way we read now.  Shorter, easily more entertaining try this book chapter: Schillingsburg, Peter. “The Faces of Victorian Literature.” The Iconic Page in Manuscript, Print, and Digital Culture. Ann Arbor, MI: University of Michigan Press, 1998. pp. 141-156.

Well, Muse just made me want to rush over to Amazon and buy some of these — in practice I have read a few — the apparently early Arnold Bennett’s Riceyman Steps (the grimness or “grumpyiness” as Dr Muse characterized its aging bookseller is another trope of such books), but mostly non-fictions, which seem not to count as they do not have this mythos at their center, though they may well tell a tale of publishing, what books are, the bookish life which has many elements found in the fantasy book. For example, Marius Kociejowski’s A Factotum in the Book Trade: A Memoir. They may tell a cultural anthropology tale.


While this bookshop name was cited as the title of a book by Deborah Myler (Stephanie Butler our heroine) — this does look like a real bookshop in Lyme Regis


And this its inside

In practice I also used to be a constant visitor of bookstores. Hours in second hand bookstores were the delight of my life here in Alexandria, in DC, in New York City, and in many places in England. I remember those blocks on Fourth Avenue, in lower New York, ancient, filled to the brim with books, some of which were rotting. The Argosy is a rare one still to be found in business (59th Street on the East Side). Blocks in Edinburgh harbored stunningly expensive ancient tomes (Renaissance) normally found in research libraries. How few are left in London; our recent visit took us to one small store, beautifully culled books, but it was the same one we visited the last time we were in London, 4 years ago. Can London be reduced down to one or two (Foyle’s) bookstores when it comes to independent ones? I enjoy the chains but the ambiance and feel and purpose of the store is quite different: they are more for casual visitors, tourists; they do not function as a home away from your library home.

My happiest hours have been spent in bookstores (as when I find a book I didn’t know existed but when I saw it, knew I would enjoy it so mightily) — and yes libraries. My favorite place in Washington DC is the Folger Shakespeare Library (or was, as I’ve no idea what it’s like in the new renovated building). It was my idea for Izzy, my daughter, to become a librarian. And she loved when she was an intern in Fairfax and worked in the children’s area of the library.

Someone at the WAPG asked if there is a subgenre of books about a heroine in a library: he said the problem is the library is usually an institution, and right away it cannot be the expression of just one person’s character or outlook, but of course (thought I) it can have a “body” in it (as do an early Agatha Christie and Dorothy Sayers book). There seems a link between the amateur woman sleuth and the woman bookseller.


This is one Prof Muse recommended — I didn’t catch the heroine’s name

So these bookstore fictions may be included in all my favorite kinds of books, first of all heroine’s fictions, second gothics and ghost stories beyond the traumatic uncanny kinds, from M. R. James to Edith Wharton about which I’ve written much here in these blogs too. And most recently women’s detective fiction. This week I’m rereading P. D. James’s even profound A Time to Be In Earnest.

Our WAGP used to meet at the Library of Congress itself, the concrete building at 3:30 and by 5 walk over to a nearby Asian restaurant and eat together. We are hoping to do that for the first time in three years this coming spring.

Ellen

Janice Hadlow’s The Other Bennet Sister


A rare sympathetic portrayal of Mary Bennet may be found in Fay Weldon’s 1979 P&P (that’s a young Tessa Peake-Jones)

‘The big and urgent human task then becomes the effort of finding a spiritual ‘home’ within the small human round’ — Josie Billington, Faithful Realism (a close reading and philosophical study of Gaskell, Eliot & Tolstoy where many final remarks apply to Austen)

Dear friends and readers,

Some time has passed, my passionate advocacy of Hadlow’s The Other Bennet Sister has somewhat cooled, and I can see this blog offers a thorough-going adequate summary of The Other Bennet Sister until near the end when the novel becomes a romantic re-write of both the ending of P&P and Henry Tilney (Tom Hayward) and Catherine Morland’s (Mary Bennet) romance.  A Mr Ryder (a cross between Wickham and Mr William Elliot) is a central obstacle to the romance because his presence makes Tom jealous and insecure and thus retreat. There is no need for me to re-do the hard work of this redaction.

I’m consciously departing from the way I have been doing reviews of books in my blogs — to, in those cases where I can find an adequate redaction (blow-by-blow account) of the story or plot-design, to no longer repeat that kind of work myself. Instead I’ll concentrate on my inner experience of the text and evaluation.

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So, as I did for Sanditon, the third season, I’ll convey my reading experience. First the reason I liked it so is Hadlow apparently reads P&P in the same spirit I do — I share Hadlow’s values and norms. This is very important in liking a sequel: it is not a large plain mirror found in an author’s spirit held up to the natural world, but an interpretative reframing mirror held up to another author’s work (either a single text or group of texts).

I am surprised to find how good it is — it has artificial enough language imitative of and evoking Austen, manages to stay within the worlds of the original, with crucial difference of developing a depth of feeling for and in Mary as the book opens. Without departing from our memories of P&P suddenly we see how indifferent Jane is to Mary, how cool and hurtful Elizabeth’s remarks, the mother hard and mean. I love the way it condemned Mrs Bennet – which aligns with how I think Austen presented her — ceaselessly mindlessly mercenary and silly too. There is more sympathy in this novel for Collins than in Austen where he is a caricature but then again as with Mary Hadlow has changed the character conception.

This would make the new book or new version of P&P more melodramatic but that the style cuts through sentiment to keep the tone of book until the Gardiners and Mary go to the lake district relatively cool. The author avails herself of patterns in language and event and ironies (ditto), which all remind me of Austen but is at the same time recognizably 20th-21st century language that too cuts down on the recognizably sentimental (there is nothing wrong with emotional feeling). Hadlow’s book is like D.W. Harding enacted in fiction — all these people surrounding Mary are outrageous in their explicit insults and transactional values — I can see what is critiqued in line with Charlotte Smith’s values and so Austen’s book w/o overt politics becomes political — set in the later 18th century of course.

It’s like reading what was left out of P&P — as was Jo Baker’s Longbourn — but from another angle. Longbourn too shows up the Bennets (as utterly class-bound, not even condescending to see the servants) but not inwardly the way Hadlow does.

We are well into the assembly where the Bingley-Darcy party enters the community when Hadlow begins to track the original P&P closely and many of the original most famous scenes or sentences make it into the narrative, only now from the POV of the humbled and awkward and (so she is ceaselessly reminded) plain Mary – how transformed it becomes. It does make for painful reading. I keep reading to see the other characters shown in this light of the indifferent, cruel and jeering, or at best neutral (that’s Elizabeth). In this version Mary had worked very hard to play well that night at the assembly, and in fact had played well, but not in the mode that was wanted; she also made the mistake to try to sing. Afterwards — the next day, Mr Bennet tried indirectly to apologize and compensate but we can see how little he does there — even Elizabeth recognize the excruciation of Mary has gone too far.

Charlotte Lucas too emerges in a different light: ever guarded, and ever harping on staying within conventions to be safe. She has also we see been led by her society’s norms make a wrong decision: she and Mr Collins are not happy as we are to feel they are at the end of Austen’s novels where they share a strong ambition “to get ahead.” Where? What we have to concede is she had no good options but spinsterhood and this book understands how awful was that for young women of this class at the time — except of course they had an income or were lesbian spinsters (which Emma Donoghue thinks Austen was and so do I as a pattern of her existence)


Claudie Blakeley’s Charlotte also resembles Hadlow’s Mary in her exacerbated self-defense shielding conventions from justifiable criticism (2005 P&P, Joe Wright)

Now at the point where Mary begins to dress herself better, do her hair, and receive kindly reciprocation from those around her, when she meets Tom Haywood in a scene directly alluding to Catherine Morland’s first scene encountering Henry Tilner.

I keep reading this, almost I cannot put it down, and this is unusual for me nowadays and even more so for a sequel — for this is a kind of traditional sequel. We are going through the Pride and Prejudice story, much as one does in Jo Baker’s Longbourne. Daringly Hadlow quotes more than you realize from Austen verbatim, which shows how her artificial language is up to accommodating 18th century style. What I like — and this will seem odd – is that the angle Mary’s experience projects turns out to be a real critique of Austen herself. You’d think a Janeite would not like that — think again. From Mary’s POV we see how cruel Austen’s favored characters can be — of course her non-favored characters have long been shown to be outrageous (D. W. Harding was showing that too). Hadlow is revealing Austen herself to be skewed — valuing Elizabeth because much of the misery of life Elizabeth simply shoves off as so much water off a duck’s back. We see the hypocrisy of many social pretenses — so Hadlow goes further than Austen.

The Other Bennet Sister thru Mary’s POV becomes a serious critique of Austen herself: Austen’s favored characters seen to be as callous as rest of the world. It rivals P&P, goes further than Jo Baker’s Longbourn in its exposure of Austen’s P&P favored characters & norms. One reason I’m so involved with this book is I identify with Mary: and this makes me say that the reality is except for Emma, I identity with all Austen’s central heroines. That is a key to my pleasure I looked at the sequels or post-texts I’ve liked and I have a bunch I’ve found unreadable or I disliked very much and the difference is I can’t identify with the central heroine and find myself alienated from the implied author.

Once in London, living with the Gardiners and persuaded to allow Elizabeth (who comes out very well here, she sends money with the awareness of she should be making compensation for how Mary was treated at that assembly ball), Mary becomes willing to go out and she meets – a Mr Tilney type. Mr Hayward is a kind of Mr Tilney to Mary’s Catherine Morland in their first encounter. There are direct parallels in the first talk of both sets of characters. We might say the journey of this heroine is to go visiting to several groups of people and out of each have a learning experience which prepares her for the next, culminating in the visit to London and the Gardiners. With the Gardiners Mary also travels to the lake district — there are moving sequences across its natural world, and also realistic ones where the group finds it is too much work and danger to climb high over a mountain and come back again. Rain and night exhaust and bring out the worst in everyone.

I’m now on the last stretch of this remarkable novel: Hadlow now has me on pins and needles worried that after all Mary and Mr Haywood (Tom) will not overcome the obstacles separating them, and what is remarkable is how closely these in type resemble the obstacles between the typical Austen heroine and the hero — Catherine v Henry Tilney, Anne and the Captain. Neither can break the barrier of manners and the being surrounded by others –these sorts of misunderstandings are the cruxes of romance in Austen’s fictions.

She has made me really care about Mary Bennet. I imagine Rose Williams as her — an updated Austen heroine.


Charlotte Heywood (Rose Williams) headed off for self-supporting work as a teacher-governess of Mr Colbourne’s daughter and niece (Sanditon, Season 2, midway)

The ending has Miss Bingley playing the confrontational role of Lady Catherine with Mary. Miss Bingley desperately wants Mr Ryder to marry her, and has come to upbraid Mary for luring Ryder to marry her; Mary denies this and in the heat of their anger (and opposed values), she admits she loves Tom. Like Lady Catherine who rushes back to tell Darcy what she has learnt and what Miss Bennet said, so Miss Bingley sends Tom a letter revealing Mary does not like Mr Ryder, but is in love with Tom (!). Like Darcy, this kind of information about what is going on in the other character’s mind is all he needs to set out to propose himself. How moved and relieved I was, how gratified that unlike several of Austen’s proposal scenes (exceptions are those in Persuasion and the recent 2023 Sanditon film adaptation between Charlotte and Mr Colbourne), the two new lovers express themselves explicitly — what they have felt, why they did what they did — at the moment of high passion and joy. In the final chapter we discover Miss Bingley is living with Ryder without marriage in Italy — and luxuriously. Ryder’s first proposal to Mary was not marriage but to come and live with him. The ironies recall the ending of Persuasion for Mrs Penelope Clay and Mr Elliot (on whom Mr Ryder is partly modeled).

The last chapter is beautiful closure, our two left together for their quiet life, to pick wallpaper together for their home, him with a good job as a lawyer and her with true friends from her family group. Mrs Gardiner as her best friend and mentoress. Women’s friendship matters in this novel as much as any heterosexual love relationship — as they do more hintingly in Austen’s novels.

It’s worth noting that Hadlow worked for the BBC for many years, and her other books are all set in the later 18th into 19th century, some are sequels, some historical fiction, and some biography.

Ellen

Women scholars & journalists on twitter & face-book — & friends too — aka good company


Rose Williams as Charlotte Heywood (Sanditon 2) — I fancy this is an allusion to a well-known drawing of Austen by Cassandra where she is seen staring out at the landscape from the back in casual clothes – I am enjoying this second season of Sanditon very much

A brief blog in defense of allowing twitter & face-book to be part of my life

“My idea of good company, Mr Elliot, is the company of clever, well-informed people, who have a great deal of conversation; that is what I call good company.” “You are mistaken,” said he gently, “that is not good company; that is the best — Anne Elliot, Persuasion

“We all love to instruct, though we can teach only what is not worth knowing” — Elizabeth Bennet, P&P)

Both face-book and twitter are mostly adversely criticized in the traditional press (in paper and online), by people seeking to defend individual liberty and a right not to be surveilled by gov’t or other organizations (commercial), not trustworthy information (twitter is a place for mobs, said Obama) — and there is good reason for some of this hostility.

Tonight, though, I want to say that like most human things, the reality is more ambiguous than the above makes the experience appear, has other aspects for the ordinary person (not brought out by professional writers who are partly in competition with these social media or platforms. My idea is that these two vast cyberspace regions (I’ll call them) in experience will be for each of us the product of how we individually use or approach them. We may also weigh the inescapable negatives (like being surveyed, being put into algorithms) against a gain for ourselves.


A long time very favorite book by a scholarly writing woman — with a cover I like very much too

For me from the beginning twitter was a place where I could come into contact with my two daughters and from their tweets (knowing them) have an idea of how they were passing their day. On top of this I typed in the names of women scholars and journalists, and for years have “followed” Amanda Vickery, a historian (she puts reproductions of interesting pictures on, and sometimes a URL to a good essay), Mary Beard (yes too much self-promotion and too determinedly cheerful, but she puts URLs to her blogs, to broadcasts, and interesting essays, information), Joan Smith (a writer of detective novels, feminist, political activist on the left), Lucy Worseley (for her programs and good photos of the places she goes to for filming them), Elaine Showalter (feminist scholar and teacher, mostly personal comments but once in a while an article of interest), Katha Pollitt (The Nation, journalist on the left), Maria Frawley (who I met as a teacher, a 19th century scholar and teacher), Jacqueline Banerjee (Victorian Web edito, Rohan Maitzen (through Trollope Society in London zooms and her blogs). I follow a few friends (not many, this I do on face-book). Janeites and 18th century scholars are mostly face-book friends.

Yes I follow a few very liberal publications (the Nation) and have a few blogs I love — mostly congenial and literary people, e.g., Nick Holland on the Brontes, Samuel West (!). And a few social-public museum and library places (e.g., Gaskell and Chawton houses).


Our — in our front garden — little cherry tree, photographed by Izzy on one of her walks away from and to the house, then put on twitter

I’ve begun what I have to say about face-book: the beginning there was to be with other 18th century scholars I knew from conferences and relatives (a cousin, her daughter) and friends I made elsewhere on the Net or on face-book literary pages (The Way We Read Now, a Trollope Society FB page, once upon a time, a Poldark book page, Jane Austen), art (women artists), personal needs (I’m on two Aspergers pages with women). It’s personal connection, a shared taste or outlook. Several months ago I had stopped going to the general “feed” which was filled with commercials, but now it’s mostly friends who send mostly upbeat messages about what they are doing in life today, this week, this semester. For me it’s a comfort to chat with friends and acquaintances. I have friended more people on FB than followed people on twitter; I am followed by more people on twitter than followed on FB but I have been friended by more people on FB.

I do keep up with news this way, which seems to show on twitter first. If it’s worrying, I got over the NYTimes or Washington Post to check out validity. Once there was a shooting on the platform from the Metro into the Pentagon where I knew Izzy crosses. I first found out about it from an email from Laura, then over to twitter where I saw no tweet from Izzy; but then an email from Izzy re-assured me she had passed through earlier. I then went to AP where I saw a brief item and then went over to the NYTimes a couple of times over the day to see what news came out. I first knew about the Jan 6th insurrection through the TV! I had called Comcast because the TV wasn’t working right; the technician told me to put it on around 2:30 pm on January 6th and I was horrified and frightened by what I saw: thugs dressed in macho male outfits with chains and Trumpite signs scaling the walls, non-gun weapons in hand.


Lenu (Ingrid Del Genio) and Lila (Elisa Del Genio) reading Little Women (in Italian of course) together — 2nd episode of 1st season (My Brilliant Friend, still radiant)

There are downsides to these experiences — like being blackballed from a Poldark Book Discussion FB page, or once in a while badgered over some literary reading I’ve given something (and then accused of being uncivil when I answer candidly to stop him carrying on), or I myself lose “it” over some irritating stance (over upbeat on FB, putting pictures of the worst people in politics on twitter). But these are versions of what we come across in physical life.

What isn’t is soft-core porn (I go nowhere where I can see hard-core porn). I allow no pornography or violence whatsoever on my two feeds. I block the person or address immediately. No naked breasts, no naked men, nothing prurient in this way. I have complained to FB when I’ve seen this persistently on a couple of pages (e.g., an Outlander FB page) and I get in response how quickly to block an address.

It’s still worth to me who am alone, now that Jim is gone, to let unknown people gather my posts as metadata.

I’ll leave this topic at that. The next time you or others wonder how it is that people use these platforms, remember each person in the world or maybe me and people like me want access to others, company, companions. It was on FB the other day I discovered that the third season of Elena Ferrante’s My Brilliant Friend (and the fist two others) are on HBO Max now. So I bought a subscription at long last. While on twitter I see lovely photos by Izzy of where she’s been walking and Laura’s three beloved cats.

Ellen

Hampstead: If this be not a summer movie ….


Julie Delpy and Ethan Hawke (Before Sunrise, 1995)


Diane Keaton and Brendan Gleeson (Hampstead, 2017)

“I have nothing of value to offer anyone,” she said to her faintly condescending adult son who seems to imply she should get a paying job … “I have no [sellable] skills”

He: “You think my mother birthed a complete half-wit?”
She: “Is there such a thing as a COMPLETE half-wit?”

Gentle reader,

If, like me, you retain fond memories of Delpy and Hawk endlessly talking during a long day in Paris after they have mutually agreed to get off a train together, you will like this romantic comedy, done in something of the same vein, the walking and talking,

the sitting about

the doing things, like putting back together a shack which has been assaulted, reading, going to bed together,

eating, drinking, fishing for their food …

you will find this movie wonderfully enjoyable.

If, like me, you loathe super-rich phony people who pretend to be your friend, pressure you, undermine you, especially when they are making oodles of money more from connections to corporations, in this case, one that is pulling down a hospital, evicting a squatter (there for 17 years), and when he is gone wrecking his place

and want to feel for all endangered species (even salmon) — the young actor on the right spends his existence handing out petitions and helping other people


you will find this movie wonderfully enjoyable.

Our hero wins out against a dastardly priggish barrister seeking to humiliate and to remove him by having a decent judge (Simon Callow), wise lawyer (Adeel Akhtar), and supportive petitioning demonstrating friends (Hugh Skinner). Unexpectedly he can be allowed to stay in the park and even given the property under a medieval ordinance, as long as he can produce documentary proof he’s been there more than 12 years. He does — with a little help from Emily (and Phil Davis — see below). It is just wonderfully enjoyable to triumph once in a while.

The movie opens up with a cheerful scene in one of the meadows of Hampstead: we see a kite, children playing, adult joining in, lovers kissing. Emily (Diane Keaton) is meeting in her building with her women friends, and being told she has an enormous upkeep bill. We watch her go off to her volunteer work at a charity shop, upstairs to her attic to rummage, find a binoculars and glimpse and keeping watching “a tramp” (Brendan Gleeson) whose lifestyle is improbably picturesque, cunningly achieved, and comfortable. At moments of high and low comedy, poignancy (she and her son, played so warmly by James Norton), the score inspirits us — light, easy, life as dance. Lots of photography of Hampstead, a pretty place where elite activities go on all the time

People fly kites; they spoil their children. Emily and Donald even take time out visit a museum (as did Harvey and Kate — see below)

Towards the end of the movie, we worry our new found couple have broken up: when he gains ownership of the property, and she has to leave her flat, she wants him to sell the his house and property, and when she sells her condom, they can start “a new life” comfortably together. He says, they have a life already; a big explosion and protesting quarrel ensues. Switch to another shot and she is, with the help of her son, selling all her stuff in an auction, paying her last bills, and settling into a another picturesque place. Time passes and she has acquired a new companion, a hen (Claude). But lo and behold Donald is passing by in a houseboat, his house moved onto a moving barge and before you know it they are drifting down the stream together

The director, Joel Hopkins, has made only four films in the relatively longer time (for making more films than that) he has been working. They are original and quirky, draw on depth of feeling and thought and improvisation. This one is actually some two years old, and has only come over to the US recently, and while it may have a movie run, like other recent films, the place to find it is Amazon Prime. The one by by Hopkins closest in outline is the movie about a day-long exquisitely moving walk of Dustin Hoffman and Emma Thompson: Last Chance Harvey.


Dustin Hoffman and Emma Thompson (Last Chance Harvey, 2000)

Like Harvey Shine and Kate Walker, Emily and Donald have had long lives and real troubles; all three sets of couples (I include Delpy and Hawke) are meditations on the troubled private lives of people, intelligently put before us. What’s different here is the troubles are more probable — money. Emily’s husband has left her badly in debt; and she is at risk of being thrown out of her apartment unless she kowtows to her great friend (played by Lesley Manville) who gets through life by obeying her stealthy real estate developer husband; and unless Emily goes to bed with a creepy predatory lawyer (Jason Watkins) obtained for her by said friend. Donald’s life seems to have been rocky in different phases and he first achieved some stability when he built his shack and determined to live as modest a life as possible (grows some of his own food). The movie does not convey how Harry Hallowes supported himself sufficiently nor tell us the true ending of the saga.

The film does mean to have a serious political topic: homelessness, paradoxical because of the perpetual photography of this elite looking area. In fact in our society elite areas contain many desperate people. Emily prompts Donald to find the man (Phil Davis) who produced built his fireplace.  And Davis has saved (!) the miraculous 17 year old document to prove that Donald has been on that property all those years; he says he helped install a fireplace and has come to court because he was once homeless and knows what this condition is like to live out. Now he keeps body and soul together as a handyman.

Our central characters are a couple coming round to be more honest with themselves and one another, more tolerant and forgiving he, more assertive she. So it’s Last Chance Harvey all over again. They have witty conversations, explore how each reacts to society at large, and to one another. So it’s Before Sunrise all over again. But I think another different note is struck, one consonant the theme of homelessness and the power of a hegemonic real estate order. We find it in how they both meet with enough kind people along the way to keep them going — James Norton conveys the warmest affection as her son: it’s he who helps her sell her stuff at an auction, helps her find another apartment and is generally there around the edges of existence, on call.

As for Diane Keaton, she is channeling as they say Annie Hall in costume especially.


Brendan Gleeson is our aging Irish man who has hard some hard knocks but holds out for his dignity. The actor has a way of standing or sitting there so stalwartly you know he will not be abused beyond a certain point. As a man, you may lean on him.

I admit this movie is flawed; it is far more than treacly;there are not enough good individual lines and too much cliche; t is a long way shy from the art film that Before Sunrise is. I would say another summer movie, one from a couple of years ago, Mr Holmes was better because its underlying melancholy and bizarre wild underlife was more genuine.

Still, we have a couple coming round to be more honest with themselves and one another, more tolerant and forgiving he, more assertive she.  What distinguishes this film is its fundamental tone of kindliness. Even toward a hen. And that’s why it is appropriate for this year. I suggest we all be kind to ourselves this hot July 4th and to one another and revel in this gently humane part fantasy story, a summer movie. Let us not ask too much of one another for just now.

Ellen

On teaching Samuel Johnson: Journey to the Western Islands, Scotland & his other writings


Joshua Reynolds’ portrait of inward nobility and sensitivity of Samuel Johnson

Dear friends and readers,

When at the first session of the class I was leading, The Enlightenment: At Risk? one of the people in the room remembered back to having had John Radner as “Study Guide Leader” (prof-teacher) twice for courses just on Johnson, and had clearly come for more, I felt I had made an effective choice of Samuel Johnson as the third of the writers we would read and discuss. Also when another man brought in his W.J. Bate biography of Johnson, an old battered and much read-looking book, and said how much he had enjoyed it, I felt vindicated. When someone had volunteered that he “liked” Johnson, after someone else said he much preferred Boswell’s Journal of a Tour to the Hebrides to Johnson’s Journey to the Western Islands, read aloud passages in which (it must be admitted) Boswell seemed the far more accessible, funny, vivid, concretely in an immediate way informative writer, while Johnson by contrast might seem so colorless and dull. Then the first man turned around to confess that Johnson in Boswell’s Life and A Tour seems a totally different person, not deep, not thoughtful, but a dense bully, by no means accurate in his pronounced assessments, coarse examples, stubborn, a contradictory egoistic, a religiously intolerant man. Were there two Johnsons? We had read Lisa Berglund’s essay on how Boswell’s presentation of Johnson’s cat-companion, Hodge, differs from Hester Thrale’s. Another man said he was reading John Wain’s biography of Johnson and agreed with me, that in some lines we seem to hear Johnson’s very tone, his meditative nobility of soul intermingling with Wain’s. Finally most of them read the supplementary reading by Johnson on line in the Ramblers, Idlers and prefaces.

Have I mentioned this is a group of highly intelligent adults more or less retired adults, have held positions of considerably responsibility in their lives? That made a huge difference in how the class went but I’m not sure how to talk about this. Also simply they seemed more able or willing to take Johnson’s point of view in than either Voltaire or Diderot’s.

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Colin Hunter (1841-1904); Good-Night to Skye (2895) (Glasgow Museums)

My second question to myself was, Did I chose the right text from among Johnson’s many? I avoided the Life of Savage because (like Boswell before me and I think Clarence Tracy too) I believe Johnson was deluded and that Savage was himself an imposter whose delusions grew to such a reinforced point, he believed them; similarly, as I couldn’t see how I could write about Johnson’s Life of Savage in as positive a vein as was wanted for a paper comparing his biographical art to Woolf’s, I couldn’t see how I could teach people over 60 that this text is a great biography even though its central information and even respectful sympathetic perspective of Savage is misleading. Johnson is obsessive in his understandable compassion and horror (because he believes that Anne Brett denied this child). In the biography Johnson believes the story that Anne Breet tried to have Savage hanged — and tries to justify his murder of someone in a violent brawl — Richard Holmes (Dr Johnson and Mr Savage as in Jekyll & Hyde) understands that one much more accurately. Apparently Anne Brett’s family had members willing to pay Savage off as long as he will agree to be silent (he wasn’t) and behave minimally decently in their houses — but he would not do that either, and after a while he was thrown out and the allowance stopped.  The key story is hers as much as Savage’s: she was subject to violence from more than one husband, hers as hard a life. What this material cries out for is a life of Anne Brett.

It turned out yes. Maybe even some chose the course because they had gone to the Hebrides! I counted four people in the class who had been to the Hebrides or at least northern Scotland. So I also showed Patrick Watkins’s stunning anti-war docudrama, Culloden, and they were gripped, or at last interested to ask questions after I sent three good essays on Patrick Watkins’s art, on its place in 20th century great films, on the problem of teaching history from written fragments, visits to relics and landscapes, from a lack of evidence, from inescapable biases and identifications I read aloud from John Lister-Kaye’s poetically brilliant The Song of the Rolling Earth.

I retold Johnson’s life, and had sent a review of a biography of Francis Barber. At the time of the death of Johnson’s wife, Tetty, Colonel Richard Bathurst whose estates in Jamaica failed came back with a white son and one black boy given apparently a common name: Quashey. Richard Bathurst the son strong abolitionist and friend to Johnson. Given name Francis Barber and sent to school for 2 years – about age 10, and then came to live with Johnson in London. At one point he ran away. A bid for freedom?but Johnson thought this choice not a good idea, and agitated to get Francis back and at age 26 sent him to Grammar school. Francis came home and became a sort of servant, married a white woman and was set up in a shop to sell books in Lichfield. It’s said he was given a generous legacy, but the shop failed. He died impoverished in 1801, a schoolmaster. He is said to have given details of intimate domestic life to Boswell.  He had a circle of African friends in London: there was a population of African black people living in London.

I also offered background on Scottish culture at the time, Jacobitism, Buchan’s Crowded with Genius: The Scottish Enlightenment: Edinburgh’s Moment of the Mind, and offered a narrative of Johnson’s life, and then we got down to going through Johnson and Boswell’s book. I found a number of the people also read a good deal of Boswell’s, which comes with most editions of Johnson’s.

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Johnson had desired to go to Scotland for a very long time, he says; he wanted to travel to another society and here was one close by, and now they were doing it: they spent about a hundred days in a place neither man was used to. Although Boswell had connections, once they crossed Inverness, he was essentially an Enlightenment lowlands city Scot whose rank and family, and father’s known position, made an opening wherever they went. This is not a package tour nor a comfortable one made very convenient and easy: they have to find accommodation where they can; they went through wildness, solitude, untamed, and as they go, Johnson repeatedly attempts to imagine the history of a object: why does a castle take the form it does? Or the landscape they are seeing.  What happened here to make this building look this way or that?  Johnson tries to analyze the economic activity that he sees and extrapolate from it to understand the economic and political systems of Scotland. His ideas about the tacksman could be applied to why communism failed as a system of exchange among people.

Johnson wanted to compare European society, to him modern, with what existed earlier; he wanted to discover a feudal society (so did Ann Radcliffe in her joural tour of a summer tour — she eventually went north too), but this was a society in the “agonies of change” to quote John Wain. Johnson was also observing two societies side-by-side — lowland modern Scotland and highlands older Scotland. Meanwhile the English were killing a way of life — and didn’t care who or what this affected. Again and again Johnson sees whole groups of people emigrating. How deeply sceptical Johnson was of claims of attribution and past glories and history. Yet he persists at each stop-over to read and write on – and at each turn Johnson is really describing what he sees, testing and verifying, an ethnography of a society in the throes of change, forced emigration and death and exploitation is what he describes to us.

To me it’s almost natural and understandable that Boswell’s book should be the one preferred by many readers as – to tell the accurate truth if like Johnson you really try to find out “which Johnson” the person is discussing – you discover often it’s Boswell’s Johnson, Johnson as described by Boswell and from Boswell’s book who is so well known or subject of fan groups not Johnson himself considered apart from Boswell. Boswell offers a comic, immediate, psychologized and prosaic talk-y language, going over the same incident with details nowhere to be found in Johnson but which support his point of view. Johnson’s is the tragic book: we see the tragedy of people’s lives, the difficulty of survival, and hard struggle each person makes to carry on. That’s the true emphasis of his book. By contrast, Boswell’s jovial filled with his real belief in hierarchy, enjoyment of good times, considerable self-esteem; he is continually name-dropping.

Johnson analyses the basic constraints and history behind each human existence or type of life he comes across with real depth of understanding. He is seriously looking at a different way of life in its death-throes and the violent history behind it. He really describes the desolation before him. His language moves from quiet to brilliant uses of general terms which capture so much meaning to magnificence and deep emotionalism of gratitude or enjoyment. Johnson ends his book on a school for the deaf. Deaf people were treated as idiots until the 18th century when two French philosophes (Abbe Sicard one, discussed by Oliver Sacks in his Seeing Voices) invented sign language. I regret to have to report this was one of those schools where the teachers were to force deaf children to learn to speak so it was not kind place but it was backward step (still not gone) in a forward movement.

Boswell gives us a good time with individual justifications as we go along. We meet individuals and rejoice in them or help or listen to or just interact with them: the old woman and her goat is to Johnson an epitome of hard-scrabble life; how admirably she uses all her resources. To Boswell, she’s a merry joke; she thought one of them would want to go to bed with her, or rape her. She seems unaware that Boswell does not find her attractive. In a frightening tempest, Boswell shows us how frightened he was, what a fool he made out of himself, how he tried to help and appreciated all the captain did. Johnson barely notices this transitory if deeply (to them as frail human beings) ephemeral experience of life. What does Boswell end on their last agreeable days –- how Johnson was feted, what they saw, what they laughed about where they stayed and that he deserves the credit for having gotten Johnson to go, taken him through and so the existence of Johnson’s book. Boswell’s book is an advertisement for the coming biography which he was already diligently at work at.In the Footsteps of Johnson and Boswell — there are a number of such books, I brought in Israel Schenker.

I cited some months ago Johnson’s Journey to the Western Islands, with or without Boswell’s A Tour to the Hebrides, as one of ten that had the most influence on me in my life. I quoted a passage where Johnson tells us how he came to choose to want to travel to Scotland even now in his old age. Now I’ll emphasize Iona, which island experience (and others) we went over carefully in class. I read Henry Hitchings’s redaction in his The World in 38 Chapters:

An inscription over the door, to show what kind of a Book this is

A scrap of land, a speck in the sea’s breath. On an OctoTuesday, two travellers arrive after dark. The sea has been rough, and their craft’s four oarsmen can find no easy place to disembark; it seems they must carry the visitors to dry land, though one of them chooses to spring into the water and wade ashore. In the moonlight the two
figures embrace. It is late to be inspecting monuments, so they retire for the night — sleeping fully clothed in a barn, nestled in the hay, using their bags as pillows.

The next day they explore the island. Its buildings have been battered by storms and stripped by locals needing materials for their homes; now they are ruins, caked in filth. The old nunnery is a garden of weeds, and the chapel adjoining it is a cowshed. The two men walk along a broken causeway — once a street flanked by good houses — and arrive at a roofless abbey. Its altar is damaged; islanders have carried off chunks of the white marble, believing that they afford protection against fire and shipwreck. A few intricately carved stone crosses still stand.

Later, the visitors will write about what they saw. One will comment that the island used to be ‘the metropolis of of learning and piety’ and wonder if it ‘may be sometime the instructress of the Western Regions’. The other will reflect that ‘the solemn scenes of piety never lose their sanctity and influence’: ‘I hoped that, ever after having been in this holy place, I should maintain an exemplary conduct. One has a strange propensity to fix upon some point of time from whence a better course of life may begin.’

This is a sketch of Iona, where in AD 563 the energetic Irish exile St Columba founded a monastery. Today, the island’s great sites have been restored and are often mobbed with day trippers – a mix of Christian pilgrims and happy­snapping tourists. Yet in 1773, when Samuel Johnson and James Boswell visited, few people went there. It was Johnson who reflected on the island’s lost role as ‘the metropolis of learning and piety’, recalling how, as he experienced its decay but also its tranquillity, he was transported into the past — to a time when it was ‘the luminary of the Caledo­nian regions, whence savage clans and roving barbarians derived the benefits of knowledge and the blessings of religion’. This was a place where earth and heaven seemed only a finger’s width apart. Somehow it cheered the soul.

‘Whatever withdraws us from the power of our senses,’ Johnson wrote, ‘and makes the past, the distant, or the future predominate over the present, advances us in the
dignity of thinking beings.’ This is a rallying cry, an appeal for historical understanding. He doesn’t mean that we should refuse to live in the moment, ignoring the pith of the present to spend our lives dwelling on how idyllic the past was or how ambrosial the future might be. Instead he is arguing that we are dignified by our ability, through the operations of our minds, to transcend our circumstances, to reach beyond the merely local, to appreciate difference. It is an insight typical of Samuel Johnson, a heroic thinker whose intelligence exerted itself in a startling number of directions. A poet and a novelist, a diarist and editor and translator, as well as the author of numerous prefaces and dedications, h produced the first really good dictionary of English, invented the genre of critical biography …


There is more than one edition of the original two copies as In the Footsteps of Johnson and Boswell (Israel Schenker from the NYTimes wrote one and now lives in Scotland).

Hitchings led to talk of  journeys people in the class had taken to the Hebrides and even  Iona and how “spiritual” it had felt. I used Matthew Arnold’s old touchstone method — I quoted Johnson: in the midst of telling how the Highlanders are fleeing the place, and that there are some “lairds of more prudence and less rapacity [who] have kept their vassals undiminished,” Johnson writes: “From Rasaay only one man has been seduced, and at Col there was no wish to go away” — because of the good man running the place. It’s that “at Col there was no wish to go away” that captures the dense concision of understanding in the man’s texts.

We then went over a number of individual passages. What Johnson is interested in? the past, meditation of what was, on generalization about humanity trying to survive in hard and various conditions: looking upon human life; passionate student of history, and of geology, geography, culture in general and that’s what he puts in his book. Sudden affection. Universities are decaying, on Canongate. Inch Kenneth, high point. How he spontaneously, inspired, wrote poetry in Latin. How he admires people: Col, so well educated trying to help his people, spends such time with them, drowns suddenly, Macquarry emigrating. Topics included his interest in castles and dungeons and the violent past they reveal. Mountainous people and their cultures. His Sardonic humor. But also merry and unself-conscious; can imitate a kangaroo. They spend a long time in Sky, Ostig: Johnson talks of what really corrodes people’s minds. Power overcomes law but money has power to abrogate law. When guns appear, non-human animals decrease. The fight over the Ossian poems: James Macpherson claimed to have found and just rewritten slightly these epic fragments in ancient gaelic and Johnson challenged him to produce the manuscripts. Of course there were none; people wanted ancient poems and unscrupulous writers produced them – it was a kind of watered down Miltonism style that appealed – tremendous international popularity but Johnson stubbornly held out. The man, thug-like threatened him, and Johnson said he’ll carry a big stick and protect himself Boswell often quotes Johnson, and works passages in, like this.

Johnson provides somber, Boswell the prosaic thought. The two of them talking, different perspectives, Johnson goes about to show us how different the re-tellings of history and concludes how little Boswell’s tour he just complains he can’t learn anything from oral tradition. In the mornings Boswell would bring what he wrote to Johnson and Johnson fix what he had written, rewrite, plan in his mind. They were making books together.

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The Yale edition of Johnson is now complete and online, open to the public

I assigned a few other texts found online. We went on to the Rambler and Idler, etexts online. We read the history of Misella (Nos 170-71) How she was drawn from her parents’ house with promises, never given the advantages claimed; then seduced by the benefactor, removed from the house when pregnant and gradually abandoned and her life as a prostitute now. Then Idler No 22 the mother vulture teaching her children — how 18th century readers liked allegory of this type in the period – an outgrowth of Aesop’s Fables. The vulture thinks man made for them and Johnson approaches Voltairian satire. We turned for an example of Johnson at his most witheringly sardonic: the review of Soames Jenyns. The malevolence in the idea that extending education to all is dangerous, will make people discontented, rebellious. The notion that human and animal sufferings produce good effects made Soames imagine that immortal beings enjoy watching us for their diversion and those in heaven derive satisfaction from those in hell. Unforgettable. Idler 22 similarly against debtors’ prisons. Idler No 81: native Americans discussing behavior of European armies and how they can use these killers.

Lives of the poets: constitutes a history of English poetry across the long 18th century, a discussion of the nature of poetry, even in this different style, lives of writers, and he is at his personally involved or make political points. He chooses some of subjects because booksellers told him to (they had the man’s works – no woman I regret to say) and others because he knew the man. Great compassion for some: William Collins. He added names he thought should be included, but one can be very disappointed because a poet today thought important isn’t there: Christopher Smart who died raving in a prison when he should have not been put in their in the first place.. Famous for a long poem on his cat Jeffrey who kept him company. I went briefly over Boswell’s, Hawkins, Thrale’s and Murphy’s biographies of Johnson himself. His letters. I read a couple to Warton, one to Mrs Thrale, part of the one to Chesterfield.

As editor of Shakespeare’s works: he did not idolize the man and some students reading the preface are surprised to find critical and evaluative comments. He puts Shakespeare in the context of his time, looks at his ultimate vision. His observations on passages are like close readings of Shakespeare’s texts. From Measure for Meausre. They did not have novels the way we do and what they read often were bound up groups of plays sold as books. Shakespeare’s plays could be read as realistic novels, so on Macbeth …

Lastly I offered a bit on Johnson’s politics. I recommended Donald Greene’s Twayne book. Thoughts on the Falkland Islands is his most anti-colonialist. But he supports gov’t sometimes because he fears chaos and who might rise to power. Oddly it has been rumored and whole essays written to show Johnson as Jacobite because he supported the Tory party and in context, from Boswell he seems sympathetic but anyone who knows the realities of Jacobitism and he did would be hard put to go that far. In his own day some accused him of this — he was often corrosive over the Hanoverian gov’t – more anti-whig than pro-Tory. Wrote Swiftian parodies. He did support expulsion of John Wilkes seen as this ultimate patriot at the time. England had the right to tax the colonialists without their permission – because they defended the colonialists against the Native Americans (but why did they so?), he attacked the anonymous Junius – a kind of Deep Throat writing eloquent diatribes exposing corruption.

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Another depiction of Johnson by Reynolds — a more familiar one

Every spirit passing through the world fingers the tangible and mars the mutable, and finally has come to look and not to buy. As shoes are worn and hassocks are sat upon … finally everything is left where it was and the spirit passes on — Marilynne Robinson, Housekeeping

I had assigned Isobel Grundy’s irreplaceable essay on Johnson’s depiction of death in his biographies. She says he shows both the older views and the modern towards death: it’s a rounding off and leaving a meaning, but also confusing, ambiguous, making one feel that the life had no significance beyond for the person and for most of us the few people who we’ve been meaningful to. We still see the older attitude in churches and religious places, and in people who plan their death, care about their will, make due preparations. Pope did. She says that Johnson repeatedly fails to find this significance or meaning in the deaths he recounts or describes, asked what he felt while dying: he wanted to live” deaths ironic, horrifying, show a lack of concern in reality; jarring and shocking. Did they die as they had lived? He again and again refuses to draw a moral. More: he deliberately puts before us the ironies, casual comedy, inappropriateness of what happens, the grotesqueries. In his essays we find death is the great leveller, what is the case for common humanity, avoids religious talk or judgement; early lives he does offer exemplary deaths; he looks into legends: Hermione Lee who has written a number of even great biographies says the most problematic of chapters is often the last because so many lies, distortions, agendas come in – we hear what the survivors of the scene want to tell us – yet you can’t avoid it and so recent biographies tend to scant it. He moves from seeing death as a kind of testing to part of common humanity – ridiculous, frailty of human body, not dignified not in control. The person or people comforting the dying can try to help the dying person feel he or she has that control over the last if that’s what the person wants or cares about.

Grundy’s was the last text I talked about and then I did wish I had assigned the Oxford Authors volume of Johnson, edited by Donald Greene, because we could have read some of the Lives of the Poets as then the people in the room would have read some of these texts.

The three to four sessions were about as successful as I’ve ever been with a “older” more difficult author. More successful than the Voltaire and Diderot sessions I felt. I asked if I tried to do this theme again, did they think it was a good idea? They said they did. I said I would try to substitute other authors: Jean-Jacques Rousseau for Voltaire (Reveries of a Solitary Walker as it needs to be a shorter text), Goethe (either The Sorrows of Werther or Elective Affinities). Mary Wolstonecraft for Madame Roland (The Rights of Women, Residence in Sweden), but I thought to myself I can probably not find an analogous substitute.

Ellen

Dena Goodman’s Becoming a Woman in the Age of Letters

Wybrand Hendriks (Dutch painter, 1744-1831) Old Woman Reading
Wybrand Hendriks, Old Woman Reading (Dutch, 1744-1831)

Dear friends and readers,

I almost made a Freudian slip and typed as the the title of Goodman’s bok, Becoming a Woman of Letters in the 18th century, for that is what this book is about. It’s just the book I needed to put together a paper on Anne Grant, Elizabeth Grant Smith and if not Anne Home Hunter, Anne Radcliffe — who also wrote a journal book and left a journal-diary whose entries are letter-like. I may substitute Radcliffe for Anne Home Hunter if my emphasis moves from Scots women to women forging connections as such. Naturally,I recommend it.

The cover picture of Goodman’s book is the same tired image I’ve seen on so many 18th century books about French women, Adelaide Labille-Guiard‘s Portrait of a Woman, so despite its appropriateness and lovely colors,

PortraitofaWoman

I led with a much less familiar image of a woman avidly reading — as if her life depended upon this.

A review of Goodman’s book appeared in the latest issue of Eighteenth-Century Studies, 48:4 (546-47). I want to emphasize from Aurora Wolfgang’s brief account, that writing was for women of the 18th into 19th century “a transformational practice,” where they both developed a consciousness for themselves (an identity we might say) and spoke to both private and public worlds out of their own private world (writing self) and public knowledge. Goodman debunks the stereotype of women as reading and writing love letters primarily; she developed her role as a teacher, mother and legitimized active participation and autonomy. The writing desk, her closet, the learning what are one’s innermost thoughts through the use of language, using reason, knowledge (her reading), and sensibility. Sensibility is only one part of this even if this is a “gendered sense of subjectivity.”

Goodman covers the manufacture of supply too: pens, paper, furniture for the modern person (like a desk), books of illustrations to study.

The writer and reader reached out to embed themselves in social networks of friends and family and book illustrations too.

ElizabethShippenGreen
Elizabeth Shippen Green (1871-1954) — and woman illustrator

Goodman analyzes over a 100 such illustrations; her central women writers are Genevieve de Malboissiére, Manon Phlipon, Catherine de Saint-Pierre, and Sophie Silvestre.

Other reviews: Maire Fedelma Cross, French History 24:2 (2010):292-93; from Cornell’s website.

A small connection which may seem foolish but is a defense of good historical. In Graham’s Poldark novels when Demelza learns to write and uses her skill to connect Verity to Blamey, to communicate with others, to be herself, she is enacting what Goodman claims for women of this era. I regret to say I’ve not been able to locate any snaps or stills of Eleanor Tomlinson teaching herself to read (they are probably fleeting). These are taken from Graham’s book. What is emphasized in both historical films is Demelza teaching herself to play the piano. Reading is still a suspect activity?

I’ve bought the book used from Amazon, and await its arrival eagerly.

Ellen

Widowed Worlds & Women Living Alone in Austen & the long 18th century

MillaisIrishMelodiesAnExcludedWoman
John Everett Millais, Irish Melodies

Westron winde, when will thou blow,
The smalle raine downe can raine.
Christ if my love were in my armes,
And I in my bed againe.
    Medieval English Lyric

Dear friends and readers,

I expect it will come as no surprise to my readers I’ve been thinking about, reading and making notes about, and have written a panel and paper proposal for the coming EC/ASECS in Delaware (now accepted) about the above linked topics. What I wrote comes out of years’ of reading Austen and 18th century texts and pictures, my recent experience and a few books and articles recently read. This blog is about this recent reading and two proposals.

I would have preferred to begin with the book I took most extensive notes on — though it was a disappointment because it relied heavily on documentary evidence, and as B-B says, until recently the history of widowhood has been badly served, distorted by what has been written down: Être Veuve sous l’ancien régime [To be a widow in the ancien regime] by Scarlett Beauvalet-Boutouyrie. But before that I feel I have to suggest why the documentary record ignores dominant realities: it’s heavily due to the intense hostility on the part of the majority of people towards a woman living alone independently, having power and (until recently) usually old. So instead I’ll present my panel proposal which partly explicates this hostility.

KateWinslett
Kate Winslett as Mildred Pierce (one phase of her life as widow)

The Anomaly: the single unmarried adult woman living alone, spinsters, divorced and widowed women

According to Mrs. Peachum, “The comfortable estate of widowhood, is the only hope that keeps up a wife’s spirits.” According to Chudleigh’s “To the Ladies,” the most frequently reprinted poem of the period, the only way to know any pleasure or liberty is to “Shun that wretched state,” i.e., marriage. But notwithstanding the misogynistic infamous type of the frustrated unhappy lascivious or power-hungry widow and a real woman’s in ability to own property until she is widowed (though her jointure), and some well-known examples of (usually independently) wealthy women who throve (Mary Delany, Lady Granville; Hester Thrale Piozzi); like other women of the era who might end up or try living on their own without a man of their class and type (when respectable kin), modern studies suggest spinsters (lesbian or not), separated and divorced and widowed women had a hard time of it financially, socially and psychologically. I call for papers exploring and discussing depictions in art and literature and/or the realities of life for a women from the long 18th and into the early 19th century (if that’s of interest) who lived on her own or with another woman or women. Salonnières, bluestockings, businesswomen, the down and out and vengeful (as seen from the fictional Moll Flanders and Roxana, “’Tis better to whore than to starve,” to Mrs Dashwood’s lack of adequate resources to Madame de Merteuil’s rage), women who never quite recovered and made the experience of marriage central to their writing (i.e., Francoise de Graffigny, a victim of legal violent abuse when a wife), women without families to take them in, governesses, companions without vows, housekeepers, agricultural and city- and sex-workers – how were they depicted and how did they depict themselves, how did they survive, create viable existences for themselves, find pleasure, when they chose not to re-marry or marry in the first place.

Here then Être Veuve sous l’ancien regime by Scarlett Beauvalet-Boutouyrie. The fundamental assumption of many of the quotable quotes famous still is that marriage is an unhappy business and when expressed from the male point of view (as it usually is) is that a second marriage is (Johnson’s famous quip) “the triumph of hope over experience.”

18th Century Fashion Plate
Fashion plate for supposed wealthy widow

Preface – Jean Pierre Bardet

B-B asks if this sizable group of women constitutes a coherent social group with determined shared traits – they are mentioned as widows and orphans with connotations of vulnerability and poverty but do not they have diverse circumstances? BB analyses the literary representations as reflecting views of the era (problem of numbers, problem of subjectivity) and finds a mostly unacknowledged distinct group.

she suggests there are three ways of seeing this group of widows: 1) that of the clerics: a dangerous state, risks of sinking into sensuality (!), rumor hurting her and greed attacking her or her being caught up by. So she is pressured to become chaste, devoted to charity, submitting to religious order. At bottom this is hostile to the widow, to her remarrying; 2) that of secular literature: does not contradict the above, just another direction with the same “risks” in mind demands that she act with dignity, fear of her frivolousness, her duty to remarry dramatized; 3) that of her memoirs – there must be a time of affliction, but readers dreads the inconsolable widow; they must put themselves in agreeable circles; they are heavily closely controlled: think of the effect of the demand for mourning clothes. (I add that poetry is one place where some liberty can be found and the greatest poetry by women in the Renaissance is often that of the grieving widow or woman living alone).

These groupings importantly, do not include some realities at all: the education of the children she was typically left with – so we see immediately how the published typology presents a false sociology, a sociology badly served and predetermined by the documents which erase central realities.

In 20th century living longer has produced more widows; in the past marriage did not last that long (mortality heavy; fragility of coupling real and for women without social protections. Yes she did have legal rights, more autonomous than other married women; she had arrangements over her dowry and portion (jointure) – but very often the family did not permit her to dispose of these things freely at all – (as I recall even get her hands on the money); but some Parisian contracts show widow’s social and customary positions improved in the long 18th century – when they were rentiers; they carried on the husband’s economic activity – the choice of a religious life was rare (8). Widows with means in minority.

Most poor but hard to delimit- problem of survival crucial – taken into Parisian alms-houses but they were not old all the time, didn’t say, so what became of them and their children?

B-B did not investigate the remarriage state, a great number did not remarry (as opposed to widowers), what they say of themselves now confirms but then contests usual characterizations: in another book will be history of poor widows, remarriage, and solitude.

BB: her Introduction

Recent studies want to escape masculine lens, the axis of domination or subordination/oppression; Ida Blom little done on widows because women researched in roles as mothers; they also are often inactive and feminists don’t want that annihilation – old women past menopause so no one interested – she says first widowhood not synonymous with older years as it is today; women have numerous family, money of some kind to handle or wholly w/o resources – why have historians ignored it when he shows changes in laws over time – is she always pathetic, alone, in black, isolated; or someone whose very existence disquiets, at risk – a woman living alone outside of marriage and religion (15). So you get these codes of comportment to deal with these myths – she proposes to see what is common in these ideas and the realities.

She needs numbers: when on average was a woman widowed, how many children did she have, what strategies did she use against the rupture the death caused – early death so common, unions brief often – much prepared in law and custom for this expectation of death; upon widowhood women became responsible for their actions
How to organize a life alone. First there is no wandering widow – she does use documents she has from Paris, contracts of marriage – favorable cases and isolated widows; some way of navigating between widows with children, affairs, and the one struggling to survive – there were some institutions which provided a little assistance – history of widowhood is a social history – how death leads to solitude and mobilizes energies of widows confronted with their future

The Mythic Figure

Chapter 1. Women written about as such by men, a being who fascinates and frightens; aim to establish norms of conduct and confine her in them (21); she’s given virtues like sweetness, pity, docility; others around her role as mother. They want to contain the widow who has autonomy (and has had sex), put her back under “tutelle”

1. Make them choose the church and charity; comes as part of advice to married women; the work of Francois de Sales who gives a whole chapter to this; God must have wanted this; at risk of seduction when alone: she is to consecrate life to family and children; pray, practice good works

2. Second marriage tolerated but not wished for (p 38) – solitude again a danger, 39; you are told to refind your husband in God

Chapter 2: she writes a series of biographies of holy women; quite a number (56) – but these represent a small minority but one there are many documents on. (To me this was a waste of paper.)

Chapter 3: we meet the independent woman: through the lens of different sources we may decode a system of values and representations (p 101): beyond arranged marriages and validation or condemnation of love romance, stories tell of intrigue, how marriages happen, a multiplication of obstacles – all witness the desire for liberty of choice; intrigues and rebounds. It’s elite texts addressing elite people – what function and what category does someone belong to. Widowhood presented as temporary; will remarry.

What are the dominant traits we find in stage comedy? — most often presented as young, w/o children, with money – little consideration given to older woman.

First she must dress as a widow (for prescribed time); the widow a la mode (La Veuve a la mode), Duneau de Visee uncovers hypocrisies to show us what is funny and what pathetic. Other women characters in arranged marriage glad the man is dead and want to seize money and papers – so we get a theme of false affliction – the mourning a short moment, sometimes just the result of convention (107). Women who sacrifice happiness for children regarded as rare (107). In Le Paysan parvenu, the widow does not know how to take care of her money and she ends having to retire to a convent, p 108. Voltaire’s tale insists women are consolable.

For women, widowhood is a means of acquiring liberty (109): “Vous etes veuve et vous ne dependez que de vous:” Celimene in Le Misanthrope by Moliere – another theme now she can choose someone she likes: La Mere coquette (110): Madame de Merteuil quoted, p 111 as not wanting anyone over her actions. Those presented as greedy and ambitious are not pardoned (p. 117) (She has done a survey of French plays.)

In the novel we find widows who love and want to find happiness ( p 121); she does not marry for money now, she seeks sincere love and “le bonheur”. Diderot writes a novel where a widow genuinely longs for sincere love but is betrayed after her marriage (p 122). In a book of 18th century novels a number of stories of widows remarrying who seek sincere love and are betrayed, hurt in various ways, one dies. Madame Riccoboni, Juliette Catesby: arranged marriage, widowed at 18, now at 20, determined to marry for love but he leaves her to marry another, when he is widowed at first she will not forgive and then she does: lesson, women must accept men are unfaithful

Diderot: “Cette femme avoit ete si malheureuse avec un premier mari, qu’elle aurait mieux aime s’exposer a toutes sorts de malheurs qu’au danger d’un second mariage” (p 124) (from Jacques le fataliste)

Some of these stories are quite poignant: one woman surmonts all the mockery preferring to have a lover to a husband – a lover no one knows of – he wearies of her and she wants revenge but he is pardoned by his wife so she is left “seule et trahie” (p 124)

Is love in remarriage impossible? Colle, La Veuve, a Madame Durval was miserable in forced marriage, cannot get herself to remarry even if she loves man; she cannot believe love can survive a union in which she becomes a servant once again; she does marry him when he loses all his money p 125; another story a woman who had suffered much in insists on marrying someone who is a misalliance; it turns out terribly.

“La veuve, rarement decrite common une victime, attire peu la commiseration” (p 126). In literature presented in marriage plot (because anything else disquiets), it’s acceptable to be young in love not old and greedy, p 127. Sources cannot conceive of a woman who prefers to be alone. Neither comedy nor novels show a woman alone and independent; only a conditional liberty and she is presented as feeble and dependent. No matter what she does she’s criticized: stay home alone, morbid and risks losing her goods. They want the widow self-contained, p 128.

Madame de Sevigne does not approve but describes Mme de Vaubrun’s grief, p 128-29; some go into convulsions, p 130; a century before Madame Campan suspects falseness when dauphine grieves too much; there are some rituals especially in rural areas allowing for strong grief expression p 132

That ritual mourning clothes a social convention, not always black; tells about rank; idea of black, no jewels is to symbolize chastity, purity, modesty; time requires varies with who you are, who died … said to turn into a fashionable habit, p 138.

Again BB comes back to how Sevigne does not credit excessive grief; that she had opportunities but choose not to remarry, p 139; sexuality a weakness; widows obtain their liberty, long ; long marriage and love are incompatible; how a niece longed to be a widow and rejoices at how much she now has, p 140; she writes of a group of widows: her social life with other widows essential part of her life; none of her friends remarried. Many axioms in period follow suit: St Evremond: “La plus grande douceur qu’on trouve au mariage/Ne vient que de l’espoir qu’on concoit du veuvage” (a Mrs Peachum sentiment, p 141)

B-B reprints a typical poem of the era, one which shows women get over it; and how they are to put themselves at the service of God & families.

Chapter 4: widowhood, the demographic reality

Death omnipresent so unions brief – yet more than 1/3 of couples in 18th century France were married for more than 30 years; people moved about so hard to get firm statistics –in Normandy 18.7 years a mean (1650-79), 23.3 (1700-49) – a gradual increase over the long century; to marry early or to marry late ends up similar statistics; more men die even with mortality of women in childbirth; younger women have more young children (well duh). Moving about again gets in way of figures for women remarrying or remaining widows, p 164; older widow less likely to remarry

How do they organize their household? – she discusses them these ways: do they live in solitude or with amiable families and friends. There is some information: we can now where heads of households are widows, 17 to 15% – living with them how old are they? Who are servants? Who relatives or friends? Pp 168-72 – in one place less than 10% of places have 5 people – not common to live all alone, p 173; sometimes it’s women with children. Towards end of period structures of families evolving more to modern individualist model – -and it remains hard to generalize if widows are a solitary species or living in midst of others

Chapter 5: About Laws seen as protecting and constraining women; the way married women are treated influences the way widows are in custom. Whole idea is women are not capable of fending for themselves in areas like law; woman considered a person incapable; while married, all laws give husband control over everything.

Now widows do get a re-found capacity: but laws and customs at the same time set up so that her inheritance does not leave the family she married into or was from; problem if you marry a widow. You marry the debts from the previous marriage; she is supposed to be accorded a dowry which enables her to carry on with the status of her husband. And the widow and family went to court over these things.

Chapter 6: the woman in black gets a conditional liberty? Rules and customs about how long she must wear mourning, she must be provided with money for it – all modes of control; she could lose her dowry if she did not behave according to codes of respectabilty; punishment often inflexible; for some conditons for remarriage

Chapters 7 and 8: ways they were allowed to exercise responsibility, places the state or societies tried to help indigent. Full of numbers.

Conclusion: the favorite image of a woman without children is unreal, nor are they sad religious women or frivolous salacious fools, but caught up in milieu of family life (this is what we see in Austen except for Mrs Smith).

So why did these hostile or repressive images emerge? There are societies where they don’t. – she puts it down to fear of the autonomous woman – in societies where some autonomy is allowed such images emerge.

A further worthwhile essay: Lionel Kesztenbaum on The Decline of Life. Old Age in Eighteenth-Century England by Susannah Ottaway, in Population (French Edition), Vol. 60, No. 5/6 (Sep. – Dec., 2005), pp. 858-862. 10 superb pages in French. He says that the aging poor older couple where both lived did do better, but when the man died especially the widow was in great trouble. Contrary to what might be thought, being old was not thought an excuse for giving someone help or alms until the later 19th century. It’s not true that the aged were more respected in the century previous to ours. If you were rich and if your children were good to you you would fare well — but class, status, money trumped all and the old were really left to starve or die if they had not “earned” some right to a pittance say as a servant. Kesztenbaum says evidence shows that even in the 18th century all these elder people insofar as they left records desperately tried to maintain their independence.

There are many many more images of widows in 19th century illustration and painting than in the 18th or 20th century, and a sizable percentage contain children. A sentimental type:

Widow_Kennington
Benjamin Kennington, The Widow

Here we have the woman embedded in her family, but she is clearly well-to-do, James-Jacques Tissot images are today often used as cover illustrations for Trollope novels:

james-jacques-joseph-tissot-a-widow

And how do Austen’s writings fit in here: I’ve blogged most recently about widows and widowers in Austen; on “previously married woman”,, how the treatment of widows today resembles the treatment of the disabled, but not on how women living alone in many modern communities (let alone traditional ones) are still treated as an oddity, an anomaly, there she is with her cat. See Jenny Diski (“However I smell”), LRB, 8 May 2014:

there is a special dungeon for women alone, mad old bats, pathetic creatures talking to themselves and their cats, waiting out their lives …

With Être Veuve, and the other scholarly texts I cited elsewhere, I have now looked enough in the English texts to say that Austen is unusual for the variety and lack of stereotyping found. Vastly superior to the era’s drama in English — which by the way whose misogynistic and snarky strains I don’t like at all at all. But I don’t know enough about the French — the French have deep psychological and philosophical currents, especially the memoirs — which Austen apparently read.

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Jemma Jones as Mrs Dashwood, pushed out of her house (1995 S&S)

Widowed worlds in Austen’s fiction and letters

Jane Austen’s writing is replete in widows, and not a few widowers too. This demographic in the semi-realistic fiction of the 18th century is not uncommon; what is uncommon is she presents widows and widowers in all their economic, social, and even psychological variety. In most fiction of the long 18th century the author presents only a few narrow stereotypes whose characteristics work to stigmatize the character hostilely, and, except when seen from afar, the author imagines these within a narrow band of the gentry class. Austen’s widows cover a spectrum from the wealthiest and highest status to impoverishment and near unacceptability. We will see how aware she is of central aspects of widowhood, sees widowed people as part of a distinct group, uses aspects of the condition in her stories, and without writing sentimentally, delves into their inner lives of memory. In all this she
anticipates developments in 19th century fiction and 20th and 21st century costume dramas.

In the texts I’ve read thus far (and that includes women playwrights, like Elizabeth Cooper in her The Rival Widows; or the Fair Libertine) and the texts about texts, there are usually only a couple of stereotypes and very often the development of the character has little to do with her or him being a widow per se — the being the widow is just part of what helps stigmatize the person. If you think about all Austen’s widows she does continually taken into account a full economic status and an attitude of mind as part of the condition. Indeed if you include her letters one could argue that she certainly singles out women living alone, then older women and widows as a group.

One problem in 18th century for widowed people, especially women (who fare badly as most were poor) is to be recognized as a legitimate group with group needs. Austen is coming near that almost explicitly in Persuasion. she will not give us the grief-striken interior life — she has Mrs Norris mouth that as cant but I think there is room enough to feel it — in Mrs Dashwood, Mrs Smith, probably Mrs Blake from The Watsons.

the-widows-tale-jacket
21st century image, but not by a woman

Ellen

ASECS, Williamsburg: how law treated women, The Wanderer & Anne Finch; Benjamin Lay & re-enactments

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A masquerade: The Ball of the Yew Trees

Friends and readers,

Herewith my third report on the past ASECS conference at Williamsburg. The morning after the masquerade ball, I was up by 7:30 am as I knew two sessions included papers I did not want to miss. Without intending it, I spent a morning listening to papers about the unjust treatment meted out to women by law and custom — if we include the actual content of Burney D’Arblay’s The Wanderer, a session alive with the excitement of the individuals with their text. After lunch I met the editors of the coming complete edition of Anne Finch and heard some of her poetry sung aloud — not for the first time; I had myself participated in writing a script of her songs for a musica dolce group using later 17th and early 18th century musical instruments in the 1990s. And there was a walk along Colonial Williamsburg where people read aloud from documents either read aloud at the time of the revolution or delivered and read silently as momentous and (for the participants) dangerous events went on.

annfinch
Anne Finch, Countess of Winchilsea

“Paper Cuts: Criminality, Violence and 18th century Judicial Reform” turned out to have three papers whose focus was violence and economic injustice inflicted on women as permitted by laws and customs. Peter Mello’s “Searching the Garrett: Jane Barker, John Stanhope, and Religious Law after the 1715 Jacobite Rebellion:” in going through archives from 1714/15 Prof. Mello discovered on 20 July a marquis received a letter from Stanhope: the pretender’s forces were aroused, and he outlined measures to take against recusants. The inhabitants of Lincolnshire for the previous 60 years had seen action taken against local matters: prostitution, theft, having a babies born outside marriage. Now state matters like demanding people take oaths against the pope began to be enforced. Inaction had been the rule on anti-papal laws; in 1715 the Papist Act forced registration of papists. Overt acts of persecution ensued. So just before the rebellion began parliament had begun practices which anticipate modern methods of control. Jane Barker was Catholic and feared inclusion; her property could be hurt; to have a stable and horses taken from you was a substantial loss. She went silent for about 8 years. From a hopeful Jacobite waiting for the return of her king Barker became a writer about the anxiety and results of living as a Catholic in England. These stories were held together as a patchwork quilt. Her heroine, Belinda, was at risk, as she tried to “pass”. Marriage in this collection is used as an analogy of political behavior: those who don’t marry are at risk of prosecution or imprisonment; when she marries, she ends up in disaster and calamity.

AllinghamFruitStallVenice
Helen Allingham, Fruit Stall, early 20th century Venice

Ana Maria Diaz Burgos’ “Slanderos words and violent deeds: Female victims and perpetrators in 18th century Peru:” from 1543-1821 many cases of misery and violence inflicted on women and women trying to defend themselves under siege and gain some social standing in Lima records. There were 151 cases where emotional and physical violence were imposed on women. In one case of physical violence the female victims were allowed to sue; women themselves uttered violent words to gain attention and protection. Prof. Burgos looked at who were the witnesses and how the events were portrayed, how women explained relationships they had with attackers. She told of a case of attempted rape and homicide where the woman denounced the brutal regime itself: the woman was badly injured; the man thought he had the right to beat her; the law required 6 indigenous witnesses and she had only 4: he said these witnesses were relatives and friends and thus biased; She said he had chosen a day when she was relatively unprotected. In the second case an altercation arose between women who had a history of quarrels; we get a picture of the narrow alleys, small houses, the squares where neighbors hung out; one dangerously accused the other of whoredom and witchcraft and one of them had to pay restitution; one had more witnesses, the other a daughter of under 25. The words are not quoted (as too defamatory). In these records we can hear the voices of lower class women.

Clarywashingrapeaway
After the rape, Clarissa washing herself (1991 Clarissa, scripted David Nokes, Saskia Wickham)

Mary Trouille’s “Evolution in Rape Laws and Attitudes towards sexual assault in the 18th century:” Men have often imposed sex on women through violence; the crime is now more visible than it once was, but one can construct a history of rape in pre-revolutionary France. Women were not considered as actors in their own right; if she came from the lower ranks she was ignored. Age, social status, reputation all played a role in whether a rape could be prosecuted. Forcible rape among the haute bourgeois and aristocracy was taken seriously; seen as a crime against the property of a father or husband; women as property were damaged as this threatened the sure legitimacy of the heirs born to them (modern variant: honor-killing). Punishments could be severe: burning at the stake; you could be drawn and quartered on a wheel, and less gruesome forms of capital punishment. Rather than risk shaming someone or a family the charges would be downgraded. Gradually attitudes shifted so rape seen as a crime against a person who has right to autonomy, and the focus begins to be the rape victim. There was a gap between the reality and heightened attention; the law did not distinguish between kinds of consent; less weight to testimony than medical records; when rape committed on a pre-pubsecent girl it was regarded as a crime and prosecuted more vigorously. People began to require examination of the victim. From 1791 the Napoleonic code demands proof of rape, unequal strength, cries for help, traces of violence on the body. 1803 there is a move backwards; hard to have 4 witnesses.Rape cases accounted for little more than 1% of what was prosecuted. We see a turning point in attitudes towards dissolute aristocrats: the public was apparently distressed to see a horrible crime go unpunished because the perpetrator was a high status male. There is still a popular belief in the untrue idea that in custom a lord had the right to deflower a girl who lived on his property on the first night of her marriage; it was in the 18th century these false beliefs took hold. There was greater determination to prosecute violence.

Prof Trouille then went over some high profile cases of sexual assault involving aristocrats. 1733 a chambermaid attacked by a marquis and his brother who broken into the house; the man was angry when he was ignored by the prosecutor; in the end there were royal pardons and the woman was imprisoned for taking money from her attacker (a bribe to be silent). In a second case of a Duke’s abduction and rape of a Parisian shopkeeper’s daughter, he followed her from church, gave her gifts, went after her mother. It reads like an episode from a Sade novel: he had a rape machine which held her upside down with her legs tied; the behavior of the libertines cold and calculating. The judicial procedure was suspended after the Duke offered money. In another case a count’s wife paid the victim in another case where the man raped his chambermaid in a carriage (perhaps Valmont modeled on this). Sade as emblematic dominates the landscape of these stories: the most notorious case (1768) when on a Sunday a girl was abducted, raped, beaeten, hot liquid poured over her wounds and she fled to and reached magistrates with her story. Sade said she was a prostitute, and she that he had offered her money after she lost her job in a textile factory. The story was elaborated into a myth — Sade supposed to have used a crucifix; it’s still being discussed by Deffand and Walpole. Charges were withdrawn in return for payment of a substantial sum of money, but Sade’s mother-in-law used a lettre de cachet to imprison him; he would be imprisoned for life. Booksellers provided indignant accounts as an illustration of the impunity enjoyed by the high placed male. Sade’s wife helped him escape to Italy; she was among the strangely complicit wives (eventually divorced).

The talk afterward was instructive. A legal historian asked Prof Mello about the non-enforcement of the laws against Catholics before 1715: among other things said: after the Monmouth rebellion there was a reaction against the savagery inflicted on the suspected; and after 1715 we see an attempt to put “the right” people into office. Prof. Burgos said Lima was a port where there was much corruption in the markets. As to rape, someone talked of a recent article in Past and Present where the figure of 80-90% acquittal was claimed; to prove rape you had to prove ejaculation; those who won had help from witnesses; repeatedly there were partial verdicts on lesser charges; the sexism is seen in the way women’s low status made them not believed. We see Richardsonian complexes of feeling; when a brutal male like Charteris was successfully convicted, he was pardoned by the king. Prof Trouille said middle class males were able to get cases dismissed completely because the magistrate was reluctant to prosecute harsh laws. We see minor differences between states but the same patterns emerge. The panel moderator talked of the difficulty of proving spousal abuse; midwives did testify to abusive husbands; bruises then had to be aggravated. It is true that parishes drove women from one parish to another in order to avoid supporting them or their children.

MasqueradePrint
Anonymous print

The experience of the masquerade the night before seemed to seep into the session of Francis Burney’s D’Arblay’s The Wanderer. I was not alone in remembering Cecilia that night. I found myself sitting next to someone who recognized me from the night before but I had not recognized her as the woman who told me about her paper on tuberculosis and women’s beauty.

To the papers: Tara Ghoshal Wallace spoke of how the real history of the era is reflected in The Wanderer, a text conceived during the height of the French revolution. In FBDA’s writing outside this novel she insists that politics remains outside her sphere, yet she writes a recusant narrative, and in her diaries of how she rescued her papers as she was crossing the channel. Prof Wallace talked of “rupture” in the novel as history entering through the margins of the novel; e.g., the text punishes those who travel to France as frivolous tourists who want to find favorite famous spots. Diane Boyd talked of how The Wanderer conveyed paranoia, commenting on key scenes of intense anxiety and discomfort for the heroine. Shen then told of her study mapping the text using computer programs finding clouds of words and diagramming their frequency. The graph for Book I shows violent ambivalence over women working: Juliette had trouble finding a place in the shop, networking. Hired as musician, she is reluctant to perform in public and stays with private families, hoping to pass unobserved and yet she attracts intense attention. The graph shows violent swings over aging, public performance. Juliette is in a double bind: she must pay to learn so go into business; we see how inadequate her learning because she lacks theoretical knowledge; her working conditions sound terrible, she is often anxious about her inability to support herself. FBDA has a source information about a famous French milliner. Juliette flits from place to place: liberty is a source of difficulty. Juliette a kind of female Robinson Crusoe and her novel one which keeps some realities of work for money for women before us.

Wanderer
Francis Burney D’Arblay, The Wanderer; or Female Difficulties (as edited by Margaret Doody)

Elaine Bander’s paper was rather different: she went over the comedy of The Wanderer, expatiating on Sir Jasper. She argued for the influence of Pope’s Rape of the Lock. We see a complex of characters’ relationships evolving over the novel: Jasper’s inconsistency enables him to read Juliette’s character subtly; he is a guardian as the sylphs are guardians over Belinda; he tells her not to take an aversion to him; under her redemptive influence, Jasper helps her. Prof Bander also talked of the ending of the novel in Stonehenge and an Abbey. (Later Diane Boyd said the word cloud for “Harleigh” the hero was huge.)

Lastly Catherine Parisian discovered from the history of sales and descriptions of costs of printing The Wanderer that the book actually did well; the problem was how large it was and the costs of printing it; the book failed to meet the publisher’s high expectations & outlay. She offered fascinating details (who got what sums, how many copies of a book printed, typical length) that enabled her to compare the various earnings for The Wanderer with how a novel by Anna Maria Porter and Alicia Lacey (a novel) did. At the same time Burney D’Arblay wrote her brother that she had never read or chanced to meet with one word on the subject, and she never expected the book to find favor in the world or enjoy “the partiality” its “Elder sisters” had enjoyed. We know that she was energized by her obsessive suspicion the publisher was cheating her (as the publisher for Cecilia had, she felt) and got a good price.” It’s a book that resembles books of the 1790s; Napoleon had just abdicated when it was published so the publisher had over-estimated “how the market would perform” at that juncture.

There was not much time for talk afterward as a group; I did talk and sit with the organizer of the session, Cheryl Clark, who sat with me to listen to the Clifford lecture and then came with me to the luncheon where we sat together and talked of Burney studies some more.

Benjamin_Lay_(1681-1760)_colored_(Alter_Fritz)
Benjamin Lay (1677-1760).

There are just a few notes from Marcus Redicker’s rousing (almost preacher-like) talk on the remarkable abolitionist, Benjamin Lay. Prof Redicker opened with an anecdote typifying Lay’s behavior, outlook, status (or class): in 1738 he took a look walk to attend an annnual meeting of Quakers, which would include many slave-owners, where he decried slavery and performed a theatrical act which got people’s attention. He was thrown out. Prof Redicker emphasized how Lay used forms of guerilla theater to call attention to his causes, e.g., he kidnapped a couple’s child and arrived at the distraught parents’ cottage, he said to all who were there this is what it is to be a slave who can be sold at any time. Another time he smashed delicate tea cups in a market place to point to the connection between these and the mistreatment of slaves. 1677 Lay was born to Quaker parents in Colchester England, he worked as a shepherd, and active on behalf of the revolutionary people after the Civil War; he was a farm laborer, a seaman until he was 33; in 1717 ex-communicated by the Society of Friends (he would go to services and be disruptive); he and his wife lived in Barbados for 14 years: there he came into direct contact with half-starved, wretched slaves who would steal and he remained haunted by what he saw. He lived a long time in Philadelphia, he died 1759 at the age of 82. In physique he was a dwarf, 4 feet 11 inches high with a large head, and might be called disabled; his wife was a dwarf too and an active abolitionist. Benjamin Franklin published Lay’s vehement uncompromising anti-slavery, All Slavekeepers That Keep the Innocent in Bondage, Apostates. He paid small attention to genre, so this work combines autobiography, tract, bibliography, scathing denunciations of quakerism as really practice, quotations from his commonplace book. The absence of sources (people don’t write down the terrible things they do) never bothered Lay who liked also to point out analogies between slaves’ lives and that of the workers in English mills. Lay opposed the death penalty, refused to eat meat (animals are God’s creation), boycotted sugar. Writers who influenced him included Edward Burrow. He was known widely and in his last years was something of a hermit and lived in a cave with a huge library. During the discussion Prof Brycchan Carey (who has researched into Lay’s life and works and written about him) brought up Lay’s significance for vegetarianism (Lay was far ahead of his time in his understanding of the politics of consumption). He has been a subject hard to research.

It was then time to go to the women’s caucus lunch. I can report the women just rejoiced at the terrific success of the evening before, the amount of money gotten, and made plans for next year: the 40th anniversary of the caucus deserved a party. All the tables were filled and we picked topics for next year, and good conversation was had.

Mask

For the afternoon sessions and “re-enactments” and walk in the set of blocks that make up Colonial Williamsburg, see comments.

Ellen

Austen letters 138A&D: Wed, 27 Mar, Mon 1 Apr 1816: Stanier Clarke

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Marine Pavilion, Brighton, with 1801-2 ground plan

Dear friends and readers,

We can understand these two letters most clearly by reading them as a pair, utterance and answer, antiphony. We are in danger of accepting and then justifying the lack of any sense of what makes for honest art in Clarke’s previous and this letter as “what everyone does,” unless we have before Austen’s direct rebuttal. So let’s start with the two texts in tandem and then read them as a conversation inside the conversation on Janeites about them:

138(A). From James Stanier Clarke, Wednesday 27 March 1816, Pavilion

Dear Miss Austen,

I have to return you the Thanks of His Royal Highness the Prince Regent for the handsome Copy you sent him of your last excellent Novel — pray dear Madam soon write again and again. Lord St. Helens and many of the Nobility who have been staying here, paid you the just tribute of their Praise.

The Prince Regent has just left us for London; and having been pleased to appoint me Chaplain and Private English Secretary to the Prince of Cobourg, I remain here with His Serene Highness & a select Party until the Marriage.’ Perhaps when you again appear in print you may chuse to dedicate your Volumes to Prince Leopold: any Historical Romance illustrative of the History of the august house of Cobourg, would just now be very interesting.

Believe me at all times
Dear Miss Austen
Your obliged friend
J. S. Clarke.
Miss Jane Austen
at Mr Murrays
Albemarle Street
London

38(D). To James Stanier Clarke, Monday 1 April 1816

My dear Sir

I am honoured by the Prince’s thanks, & very much obliged to yourself for the kind manner in which You mention the Work. I have also to acknowledge a former Letter, forwarded to me from Hans Place. I assure You I felt very grateful for the friendly Tenor of it,
& hope my silence will have been considered as it was truely meant, to proceed only from an unwillingness to tax your Time with idle Thanks. —

Under every interesting circumstance which your own Talents & literary Labours have placed you in, or the favour of the Regent bestowed, you have my best wishes. Your recent appointments I hope are a step to something still better. In my opinion, The service of a Court can hardly be too well paid, for immense must be the sacrifice of Time & Feeling required by it.

You are very, very kind in your hints as to the sort of Composition which might recommend me at present, & I am fully sensible that an Historical Romance, founded on the House” of Saxe Cobourg might be much more to the purpose of Profit or Popularity, than such pictures of domestic Life in Country Villages as I deal in — but I could no more write a Romance than an Epic Poem. — I could not sit seriously down to write a serious Romance under any other motive than to save my Life, & if it were indispensable for me to keep it up & never relax into laughing at myself or other people, I am sure I should be hung before I had finished the first Chapter. — No — I must keep to my own style & go on in my own Way; And though I may never succeed again in that, I am convinced that I should totally fail in any other.-

I remain my dear Sir,
Your very much obliged & very sincere friend
J. Austen
Chawton near Alto,” April 1 st – 1816-
[No addressJ

Diana Birchall chose to deal with each letter separately; here she is informative about the first:

It’s a little confusing to deal with Deirdre’s numbering of the letters.  Letter 138A is Rev. Clarke to Jane Austen, written on 27 March 1816, and  Letter 138D is her reply, written on  1 April. Where are B and C I don’t  know. But let’s look at this exchange.

James Stanier Clarke writes from the Pavilion at Brighton. Remember that the domes we associate with the Pavilion had not yet been erected at that date. The structure was still a rather grand farmhouse, with huge stables and some Eastern art, but the work of turning it into a palace was barely begun. Still, it’s where the Prince Regent’s court was at the moment.  Clarke wrote to convey the Prince’s thanks for the handsome presentation volume.  “Lord St Helens and many of the Nobility who have been staying here, paid  you the just tribute of their Praise.” Actually the Prince had just left for London, and perhaps the real purpose of the letter was for Clarke to announce to his friend his new appointment as Chaplain and Private English Secretary to the Prince of Cobourg. This of course was Prince Leopold of Saxe-Cobourg, about to come to England to marry Princess Charlotte, the Prince  Regent’s daughter, which happened on  5 May  at Carlton House. Here Clarke  makes his famously absurd suggestion, “Perhaps when you again appear in  print you may chuse to dedicate your Volumes to Prince Leopold; any Historical Romance illustrative of the History of the august house of Cobourg, would just now be very interesting.” Finishing with an effusive flourish, he directed the letter to Jane Austen c/o Murray, and it had to be forwarded to Henrietta Street, and then Chawton.

Will look at Jane Austen’s reply later –

Diana

Then my commentary: Austen’s response to Stanier Clarke’s letter shows that if his suggestion is not to the ambitious author who can churn out what’s wanted for money and fame “what everyone would do if they could,” it is wholly intolerable to Austen — which he should know. He has spent time with her, she has said in a previous letter and perhaps face-to-face, my dear Sir, these themes are not themes I can write on nor am I comfortable with, he has presumably read the passages on how justifying the church as a career requires real work awakening moral and social consciences alike.

Imagine your self with a friend and a friend makes plain some attitude she has: do you blithely ignore it and repeat your urgent suggestion as if she had never spoke.

I hope not. If you do, you in effect (unless you’re a parent and moralizing or think you have the authority to urge something which goes against your child’s character because the child cannot break off relations, is younger, possibly dependent) are careless of your friend’s feelings or whether you irritate him or her. It does not make me doubt the sincerity of Clarke’s friendship in the sense that he really thinks one can churn out novels: it makes me wonder if he paid any attention to Emma , which it is right to point out he does not even name. In his previous he admitted he had not begun to read it or read very little thus far. His descriptions of her novels show some understanding of their value: he anticipates Scott’s main praise — “there is so much Nature — and excellent Description of character in everything you describe.” But his likening MP to slightly idiotic or vacuous descriptions of his own of clergyman makes one wonder if he really thought these were serious books — or just woman’s romances. 

So to his suggestion:

Perhaps when  you again appear in print you may chuse to dedicate your Volumes to Prince Leopold: any  Historical Romance illustrative of  the History of the august house of 
Cobourg,  would just now be very interesting.

Austen replies (and the honesty plainness and fullness of the reply is poignant since she so rarely does give herself away like this: she has it seems given him the respect of a friend:

You are very, very  kind in  your  hints as to the sort of Composition which might recommend me at present,  & I am fully sensible that an Historical  Romance,  founded on the House  of Saxe- Cobourg might be much more to the purpose of Profit  or Popularity, than  such pictures of domestic Life in Country Villages as  I deal in – -but  I could no more  write  a  Romance  than an Epic Poem. — I could not sit seriously down to write a serious Romance under any other motive than to save my Life, &  if it  were indispensable for me to keep it up  & never relax  into laughing at myself or other people, I am  sure  I  should be hung before I had finished the first Chapter. –No — I must  keep to my  own style & go on in my  own Way;5  And though I may never succeed again in that, I am convinced that I should totally fail in  any other.- 

Austen is not treating him the way she does the Countess of Morley; in her “your Ladiship’s,” she shows she regards herself as of a much lower rank and does not expect the countess really to regard her as an equal. She apparently did expect Stanier Clarke to listen to her. She here gives one of the most valuable of all her statements about her fiction.

Why doesn’t he? I suggested to a man like him the life of sincerity and integrity is unreal; he can’t conceive of it. I now suggest on top of his maybe finally he didn’t respect her art. We must return to his first paragraph: He may have been the kind of person who respond intensely to his surroundings so we have to remember (as we shall see Jane does) he is in this courtier like place where for a person like himself (in effect a sort of upper servant, equivalent of a governess), who has just achieved a post and salary and place with Leopold of Cobourg, the man who was to be married to Princess Charlotte Augusta of Wales, the girl who it was thought would be queen, and so father of the next royal set. In the event she died from a horrible childbed experience. He is just full of pride, and has been puffed up as he has puffed others up for several days. I’ve no doubt one of his purposes was to boast about his new place – which as we shall see she tells him point blank she regards as one demanding such a sacrifice of thought and feelings that (it’s implied) barely worth it.

Here again is his boasting intended to make Austen feel all is not over with the list-servs (though a friend of hers has just died):

Lord St. Helens and many of the Nobility who have been staying here, paid  you the just  tribute of their Praise. The Prince Regent has just left us for London;  and having been  pleased to appoint me Chaplain and Private English Secretary to the  Prince of Cobourg.

Her reply was originally from a religious perspective much harsher than the one she sent.

She sent this:

Under every  interesting  circumstance which  your  own Talents & literary Labours have  placed  you in, or the favour of the Regent bestowed,  you have my best wishes. Your recent appointments I hope are  a step to  something  still  better.  In my opinion, The service  of  a  Court can hardly  be  too  well paid,  for immense must be  the  sacrifice  of  Time  &  Feeling  required by  it. 

Given that Clarke’s a literary man (who wants to be published) to get the favor of such a person is a guarantee of it, so good. She hopes he will get something better — which if he read her words carefully (which I doubt he did) would seem strange to him. How could he get anything better than the prospective husband of a queen. Maybe she thinks chaplain is not that respected an office really (remember how Mary Crawford looks at it and says others do), but also it’s not likely to further a writing career. Finally that last line – I take it to mean that like Fanny Burney she regarded time at court as a death in life, preventing her from doing what makes life worth while

The original version points to the continual hypocrisy   these positions required: For once LeFaye tells us something to the point:

In my opinion not more surely should They who preach Gospel, live by the Gospel, than they who live by a Court, live by it – & live well by it too; for the sacrifices of Time & Feeling they must be immense.

In other words, at a court the central of religion to be truthful and moral is not possible because you must continually be lying in some way or other so outside the court they had better live by the gospel for real to make up for the Immense sacrifices of time and feeling.

Time shows this is a literary thought for the Bible emphasizes truthful feeling not time. Austen would hate to give up her writing time to be living at that Pavilion. 

Austen is aware of how much she disliked his letter and how hers contradicts his at every point and sometimes deeply so her opening is very courteous, courtier-like one might say, but not untruthful. In her opening she excuses herself for putting off writing back — she thinks that to him this several month interval between his letter of December (still unanswered) would be slightly insulting: after all is he not chaplain to … living with these big shots, did he not tell these great people paid tribute to her book. (I am not so convinced as others appear to be that the court group liked Emma — would they really? come now, a book where nothing happens but an old man eats his gruel and his daughter copes with him — would they even grasp the satire on her snobbery? her use of Harriet would seem to them nothing wrong at all. So what does she say? does she believe it. Not quite. She thanks him “for the kind manner in which you mention the Work.” She is aware she never answered his previous much more decent letter where he offered her a place to visit at the library; now 5-6 days have gone by since this last one and she just forces herself.

I assure You I felt very grateful for the friendly Tenor of it, & hope my  silence will have been considered as it was truely meant, to proceed only from an unwillingness to tax your Time with idle Thanks. —

She is not lying in the sense that he did praise her and repeat praise of her. She was grateful for his stance of friendliness but knows better than to listen to him literally.   He meant well, he means well by his materialistic point of view to her. But all she can offer are “idle Thanks” of a woman who can do nothing for him (that’s why her thanks are idle).

It matters not if the average ambitious person would understand Stanier Clarke’s offer, Jane Austen is not such a person, her books do not come out of such outlooks and she realizes he can’t get that. Yet she does forgive him as she knows there are far worse fools and meaner people. He has after all paid her the compliment of using her to flatter the Prince Regent by connecting him to an author who was being recognized however slowly as having something fine in her books – that’s why Murray took her and keep the relationship up as best a busy publisher could.

From Diane Reynolds’s reading of the first and second letter:

The ostensible reason for this letter is to thank JA for the advance copy of Emma sent to the PR. Oddly, he refers to it not by name, but with the generic boilerplate, “your last excellent novel.” Does he even remember it’s called Emma?

All through the letter, Clarke’s worldview shines through, leading to the question: how sincere is he in his “friendship" towards Austen? Does he really admire her works or does he sense, with the instinct or calibration of a professional courtier (or in our world, marketer) that the wind is blowing in her favor, and he wants to be on board  with a rising star? Or is it both admiration and calculation? … Clarke does sound uncomfortably like Mr. Collins in this letter in his language towards higher-ups …

I couldn’t agree more with what Ellen’s interpretation says, which certainly echoes my own: that regarding her vocation (what she was supposed to do with her life) Austen had a rare integrity, a singleness of purpose. She knew what she was meant to be–a writer– and what kind of writer she was meant to be … When she says she could only begin such a romance if her life depended on it and even then probably not get beyond the first chapter, she is not joking.

Another voice in this conversation (written earlier) appeared on WWTTA: Fran to whom we may give almost the last word:

I can’t help feeling the fact that she wrote this letter on All Fools’ Day may have been an example of her warped sense of humour as well. She’d gone as far as dedicating Emma to the Prince that year, but I’m rather glad she finished Persuasion before her untimely death, rather than attempting the kind of sycophantic potboiler Clarke suggested.

To be fair, Austen did write a parody version of the sycophantic potboiler, which has been typed out on Republic of Pemberley and includes a father modeled on Stanier Clarke whose adventures

comprehend his going to sea as Chaplain to a distinguished naval character about the Court, his going afterwards to Court himself, which introduced him to a great variety of Characters and involved him in many interesting situations, concluding with his opinions on the Benefits to result from Tithes being done away, and his having buried his own Mother (Heroine’s lamented Grandmother) in consequence of the High Priest of the Parish in which she died refusing to pay her Remains the respect due to them. The Father to be of a very literary turn, an Enthusiast in Literature, nobody’s Enemy but his own …

Novel-plan_1-2

As Chapman’s notes show (interestingly, from Austen’s own marginalia), Stanier Clarke is not the only acquaintance and friend Austen burlesques in this parody

Ellen