Disappointed

My goal was to read 52 novels in 2009. I only read 31. I will have to do better next year.

My Own Book Club: Population One

I spend a lot of time reading what I like to call pre-Jane Austen literature. Some of the writers are actually contemporaries of Jane but there are drastic differences in the writing styles that make the stories harder to read in a modern setting. The themes and literary devices that are applied often feel dated, hysterical, and abhorrent to a modern sensibility. The reason I mark Jane Austen as a change of era is that her characters, particularly her female characters, are written in such a way that while they feel classic and traditional they don’t feel like doormats for all the other characters to stomp around on, being thrown from one ridiculous situation to another. Compare Lady Susan or Elizabeth Bennet to Emmeline Mowbray or Camilla Tyrold and the differences are so striking that one can hardly believe that the heroines were written within a very short time of each other.

After reading many, many of these stories over the years, I have a few critiques I would like to pass on to the writers of some of this pre-Jane Austen literature. Yes, I am aware that they are long dead. I am not a crazy person who talks to dead people...most of the time. But at the end of each story, I find myself thinking, “Wow that was a great story except for this, this, and this.” And the this, this, and this, have become common themes that can be found in most literature from this time and genre. And since most readers do not subject themselves to the often frustrating (but secretly enjoyable) task of reading this particular type of literature I have no one to discuss these themes with…except apparently the dead authors themselves who may take so much exception to my critiques that they band together to greet me upon my own death with critiques of their own. Being relatively young and healthy however, I have decided to put that worry on the back burner and plunge headfirst into my opinions of their work.

Open Letter to the Following Authors:

Dear Henry Fielding (Tom Jones, the History of the Foundling)-

I enjoyed Tom as the feckless, lovable hero who sleeps his way through the story. It was a little bawdy but it worked. But why, oh why, did you create such a double standard for Sophia at the end at the mere hint of a man entering the building where she was? I was so shocked and disappointed that I threw my very nice hardbound copy across the room as soon as you took that ridiculous course. My copy survived the hurl but unfortunately the story’s ending does not survive your conclusion. Badly done, Henry…and I had such high hopes after Shamela.

Dear Charlotte Smith (Emmeline)-

What is with the fainting and the hysterics? Considering your own strong character I am surprised that you left Emmeline Mowbray, your heroine, no other option other than fainting to keep herself from being carried off, dishonored, raped, and ruined. Instead of crying and passing out you should have had her screaming her lungs out, “I don’t want you!” Or, “You are a rotten uncle!” Those two simple phrases could have gone a long way.

And I was a little disappointed by the double standard of Godolphin being accepted as the child’s father rather than the true mother. I know you wrote this story in 1788, which was two hundred and twenty-one years ago, so I will not judge it too harshly but I still really feel like you could have pulled the true parentage out in a manner that wouldn’t have made that particular storyline sexist and dated in my day and time.

That being said Charlotte, I cannot believe the twists you gave to one of the heroes at the hands of Bellozane, the forward thinking story of Lady Adelina, the desirable Godolphin as a hero, and the worthy friend you provided to the heroine. Even with your faults, I suppose I will read your book several more times in my life…I mean after all, I’ve already read it a second time haven’t I?

Dear Ann Radcliffe (The Mysteries of Udolpho)-

What is with the immense detail on every page depicting every flower and every leaf that the heroine passes? I thought I might claw my own eyes out. One word: Editor. At 300,000 words, I think you over-specified and under-economized. I bet you could have done the story in 200,000 words without batting an eye at what was left on the editing room floor. And the heroine hardly seems fit for the time period you assigned to her. She would have blended better in 1794 than she does in 1584.

However, I loved the twists and turns of the story. The mystery of the black veil was satisfying and the twist with the hero near the end was truly a surprise that I did not see coming – and that, Miss Radcliffe, is saying a lot. Although I would have preferred it if Emily St. Aubert had stabbed Montoni with a dagger viciously and repeatedly and smothered his wife with one of her own dresses, I have to admit that after all the fainting and loyalty to evilness you did pull their respective demises out satisfactorily. Well done Ann. Your two hundred and fifteen year old story is still a keeper in my library.

Fanny Burney (Evelina and Camilla)-

Oh, Fanny…where do I begin. I really like the letter format for Evelina and I enjoy the twists and turns of your stories but I have a hard time loving them.

In Evelina, we know we are supposed to think of Lord Orville as the hero but at the end of the story I feel like he is a two-dimensional cardboard cutout of what a hero ought to be. I want to look behind him and nothing of substance is ever there. In some ways, Edgar Mandlebert is written better in that respect as the hero in Camilla, as he is drawn with more flavor and understanding. But somehow Sir Clement Willoughby of Evelina and Sir Sedley Clarendel of Camilla are drawn with so much more to interest a reader than the actual heroes. The transformation of Sir Sedley from a mere fop into a witty, thoughtful, engaged character was alluring and could have been carried much further. However, you chose to keep him static rather than letting his true underlying character run free. I was left wanting more with regard to him, but perhaps that is just the side of me that loves the Scarlet Pimpernel.

While on that note, it is interesting to skip to the new topic of the sheer and utter ridiculousness that your write into some of your characters. Madame Duval of Evelina may get a pass due to the fact that she is newly introduced to the heroine but the Captain who torments Madame (and you may say rightly so) and then passes for good society doesn’t pass the test. Another scene that comes to mind in Evelina is the sport that the ‘gentleman’ of the era choose to lay bets on, namely that of making little old ladies from the town race it out for the ‘gentleman’s’ pleasure. How could that ever be considered a part of good society in any society, excepting our own modern day morally empty society? In Camilla, you created Mr. Dubster, who says a lot of things of sense in a nonsensical way. I suppose he may stay as a quirky character but Lionel Tyrold is just plain irksome. His sisters love him and, in turn, he uses them in a way that they ought not to feel any wish to see him ever again. There is not a single scene written where Lionel appears as anything but cruel to his own family and yet we, as the readers, are meant to fervently believe that Camilla ought to relinquish Edgar and marry Sir Sedley as a way to settle her brother’s debts when he himself shows no remorse or redemption. Lionel comes out flat, Fanny. He ought to have been given some redeemable qualities so that we readers could understand why Camilla would even think of sacrificing Edgar for her brother. He is poorly written and bothersome to read.

So while I might (probably) read your stories again and again, I have a strong urge to skip the scenes involving Lionel, Madame Duval, The Captain, and Mr. Dubster.

In conclusion, dear authors, may I suggest that next time you write a book that is destined to be a classic, and therefore read by me, that you would skip fainting heroines as a means to avoid necessary communication, avoid the hint of outrageous double standards and sexism, and fully develop the heroes and heroines so that they may truly stand the test to be read several centuries later with much pleasure by the reader. Although, I suppose I ought to admit that even with these obvious and rampant literary defects, I have found enjoyment as a reader of all your works and will continue to do so in the future. Except you Henry Fielding…I am still smarting over your treatment of Sophia which was very, very badly done.