The Metaphorical Act of Translation in Austen's Work

In consulting various texts regarding the history of English translation, I have been able to understand the progress of what was considered the “proper” form of translating foreign texts. Throughout much of the 18th century, general critical and popular consensus held that the most important thing for a translator to do was catch the “spirit” of a given piece rather than to focus on literal translation. This feeling can be understood quite easily through Alexander Tytler’s seminal work on translation Essay on the Principles of Translation (1791) in which he states of many works that only deal with “literal and servile transcript”. This feeling gradually began to give way with the turn of the century and up until the end of the 19th century there was a general trend towards more literal translations. The era that Austen lived and wrote in, then, was only at the beginning of this transformation of the translational process, but as the topic was widely debated, it would be safe to assume that she had at least minimal exposure to it.

The importance that this debate has to Austen’s text is then to be understood via Inchbald’s own self-proclaimed concern with the style of Kotzebue’s work rather than any form of literal translation. She explicitly states in her preface to Lovers’ Vows that she is primarily concerned with representing his work in a proper fashion to a British audience. This act of catering a translation to an audience becomes very important for Austen in her use of the play and as it reflects the characters throughout her work.

Austen quite clearly considers the play itself as quite improper, a fact which highlights the inefficacy of Inchbald’s supposed concern over British propriety. Fundamentally, then, this may be read as Austen’s belief that no matter the type of translation proffered, the underlying “spirit” is not to be eradicated. This concern gives way to the metaphorical act of translating that each of Austen’s characters undergoes in various forms. Every character deals differently with the act of relaying unknown information to an audience. What is most noteworthy in this is Fanny’s exceptional ability (or inability) to consider only literal speech and behavior. From her very first appearance she is taken in more by Lady Bertram’s smile than by the implicitly intended graciousness of Sir Thomas (43). This behavior is manifest throughout the novel, as seen in Fanny’s objection to the play based on its actual contents rather than what her compatriots tell her is the “spirit” of the play. Equally, Fanny’s literal interpretation of impropriety of the act of Maria’s giving away her brother’s present, Fanny’s unwillingness to adhere to Edmund’s interpretation and justification of Mary’s behavior (90), Fanny’s immediate disavowal of Mary’s plea to overlook the literal aspects of Henry’s behavior (436), and many more instances all reveal Fanny’s adherence to the literal aspects of reality rather than subjective speculation and “translation”.

This analysis becomes even more intriguing when considering Mrs. Norris’s primary joy in life: relaying information of shocking events. This metaphorical “translation” to her intended audiences is the exact opposite of Fanny’s tendencies, and deepens the judgment that Austen’s narrator implicitly gives this most loathed aunt. Ultimately, it may be understood that the debate of Austen’s time regarding the nature of the act of translation has a direct effect on the behavior of the character’s that live in such a time.

Mansfield Park and the Archeology of Values

"England" is an entity ripe for accurate historical interpretation because so much cultural innovation took place in such a relatively condensed time and space. Here, I want to focus my lens on the transformation of public values in England as represented through its main works of architecture. My journey begins with Medieval England, when parish churches were first introduced, and it moves swiftly through towards the turn of the nineteenth century, when the house estate became the final locus of public activity, and thus of values.

In "Sensing and believing: exploring worlds of difference in pre-modern England: a contribution to the debate opened by Kate Giles," Pamela C. Graves' archeological analysis of church structures affords scholars the opportunity to imagine the interface between values and experience in public life at that time. She notes that "past understandings of the senses and their role in social construction, embodiment and body emplacement" can be the subject of prolonged scrutiny, and thus we learn how "sights, movements and sounds are imbued with meaning and carefully hierarchized [in Medeival eccliastic experience] so as to express and enforce the social and cosmic order." Given the extramission/intromission theories of sensation and perception, by which to sense phenomenologically is to make spiritual contact, the "ritualized...interactions with these material environments [expose] the nexus of piety, social identity, individual and institutional strategies such practices helped to create, as well as the limits of authority and dissidence." Without going into too much detail, the ritualization of otherwise everyday objects was supposed to a.) provide for the laiety, clergy, and nobility alike, an authentic interaction with Communion, and b.) to remind and enforce all peoples to look for the spiritual aspects of physical creation. The latter effort aimed for good Christians to reject outward curiosities and extraneous details by looking always inward towards their True Selves.

Fast forward to the turn of the 1800s, and we see quite a different value system, as evidenced by George Dyer's "A dissertation on the theory and practice of benevolence." In his first chapter, he establishes a variety of points which show the dramatic shift in social attitudes
1.) Humans of like mind are to seek refuge from the imperfections of the physical world in each other's social help: to live otherwise is to subscribe to the superstitions of 'dark ages.'
2.) If a man is superior in his independence, given that he is moral and rational, he may as well be his own god; he does not require the mediation of religion.
3.) It is the responsibility of the nation to ensure the stability of this way of private independence.
4.) No one of true virtue is to be enslaved in his family or to be enslaved by other families, unless of course, the original sins of despotism or corruption lurk by the wayside.
5.) Only through honesty and inward reflection can a person look through cracked customs and peer at the corruption/despotism beneath.
6.) No one is to discriminate based off of extraneous detail such as race or creed: the buck ends at universal human virtue.
7.) Self-righteousness reaches beyond the boundaries of proper inward reflection; to practice thus is to be like the Pharisees, and so mercy in its correct form is of highest value.

What we see from Dyer essentially is a clever transformation: what institutions existed to make G-d the center of life are now reconfigured to make the beneficiary and patron the god of his own household. Mansfield Park, then, is like a living archeological record of Dyer's theories unfolding. As the characters move through space in a ritualized fashion, we see, in sharper and sharper degrees, the extent to which Sir Thomas plays the role of the indepentent benefactor. Oftentimes, his despotism and corruption overshadow his proper role, as shown through the inward-looking Fanny.

The scene at Sotherton where Fanny is disappointed with the simplicity of the private chapel is no value judgment: it is more an objective exhibition of the state of things. Given our awareness of this state and its ability to saturate the most mundane aspects of life, readers of Austen's work are to move forward and evaluate whether or not this state is satisfactory, and why.

So we have a new reading of the following exchange, and we can essentially read outwards from this moment in order to best read the rest of the novel:

***

"Very fine indeed!" said Miss Crawford, laughing. "It must do the heads of family a great deal of good to force all the poor housemaids and footmen to leave business and pleasure, and say their prayers here twice a day while they are inventing excuses themselves for staying away"

"At any rate, it is safer to leave people to their own devices on such subjects. Every body likes to go their own way--to choose their own time and manner of devotion. The obligation of attendance, the formality, the restraint, the length of time--altogether it is a formidable thing, and what nobody likes: and if the good people who used to kneel and gape in that gallery could have forseen that the time would come when men and women might lie another ten minutes in bed, when they woke with a headache, without danger of reprobation, because chapel was missed, they would have jumped with joy and envy. Cannot you imagine with what unwilling feelings the former belles of the house of Rushworth did many a time repair to this chapel? The young Mrs. Eleanors and Mrs. Bridgets--starched up into seeming piety, but with heads full of something very different--especially if the poor chaplain were not worth looking at--and, in those days, I fancy parsons were very inferior even to what they are now."

***

According to Dyer, Miss Crawford's logic would be infallible. Her sentiments would reflect a humanistic liberation from the shackles of religious slavery. The order achieved by that old system is now superimposed in a secularized realm. There would be nothing wrong with her emphasis on the aesthetics of the human form (project that Mrs. Eleanors would gaze away from the priest and turn a lusty eye towards her husband); such is her choice, so long as she is rationally virtous. Moreover, we learn in Graves that the architectural features that enforced inner reflection would often inadverntly highlite, aesthetically, class distinctions and wealth. So, Fanny could not justify her qualms with Miss Crawford's logic on purely spiritual grounds; after much inner reflection, she would arrive at the conclusion that the system of beneficience is only being mishandled at Mansfield.

Portsmouth Close Reading: Mansifeld Park

"William was almost as happy in the plan as his sister. It would be the greatest pleasure to him to have her there to the last moment before he sailed, and perhaps find her there still when he came in from his first cruise. And besides, he wanted her so very much to see the Thrush before she went out of harbour--the Thrush was certainly the finest sloop in the service--and there were several improvements in the dockyard, too, which he quite longed to shew her."

This is the best example of a shift in time in the novel, demonstrating the years since Fanny had been home last.  In narrowing a focus, it is easiest to spend time understanding changes in the closest seaport, Portsmouth. Upon examining the word "improvement" in this excerpt, one must examine the definition of said word, stating that an improvement is the betterment of space. Portsmouth during this time period was often perceived as being a place of debauchery and dysfunction and it is interesting to trace how that significance impacted the novel, especially since Fanny herself experienced a change in demeanor as well, from Portsmouth to Mansfield Park.

The Quarterly Review and Progressive Politics

During the episode at Sotherton Mrs. Norris, Mrs. Rushworth and Fanny go back to the house ahead of the rest of the party. Austen writes: “On this rencontre they all returned to the house together, there to lounge away the time as they could with sofas, and chit-chat, and Quarterly Reviews, till the return of the others, and the arrival of dinner.”

From the journal’s very first volume, the Quarterly Review adopts a strong stance against the slave trade and its prominent place in the West Indian colonies. In a review of a history of Barbados from that first issue, the QR writes that the trade “has proved a moral evil of enormous magnitude.” The publications politics are anything but ambiguous.

Austen’s reference to the Quarterly Review is made in as offhanded a manner as her references to Antigua. It is mentioned in a list with, and therefore on the same level as, lounging on sofas and chit-chatting – normalized and everyday activities for whiling away the time before dinner.

At the time of Mansfield Park’s writing and publication, the Quarterly Review was the premiere literary and political journal in England, surpassing the Edinburgh Review that it was set up to combat in both readership and influence. It is the only periodical to be mentioned by name in the novel, and any contemporaries reading Austen’s reference would be quick to associate it with progressive, abolitionist politics.

The result is the residents of Mansfield Park read one politics while relying on another for their livelihood. The disjunction could be explained as Austen equating Sir Thomas’ lack of progressive politics abroad and the resulting troubles in Antigua with his lack of progressive parenting and the problems that arise with his daughters eloping.

Edmund's Tainted Deeds

While only Members of Parliament had the privilege of franking letters, its abuse was frequent because post was expensive. Upon searching through primary documents from Austen’s era (and before and after), several documents that outlined Parliamentary privileges and also complaints about the abuses thereof surfaced. People would forge the signatures of Members of Parliament with, or without, their knowledge. In the former, even if the MP gave them permission to do so, it was still blatant forgery as in the latter case.

In “A Letter from a Freeholder in the Country to a Member of Parliament Concerning Franking of Letters” from 1738, the author (signed "Frank Yeoman) claims that about 1/5 or 1/7 of all inland letters are franked “one way or other” which he concludes proves the abuse of franking and that some made a profit from it.

With this in mind, my interpretation of the scene in Chapter 2 where Edmund offers Sir Thomas’s franking privilege to Fanny has altered slightly. Fanny responds to Edmund’s supposedly kind suggestion with a “frightened look” and “thought it a bold measure”, for what I now understand to be with good reason because Edmund was breaking the law—his kind gesture is tainted with the abuse of his father’s Parliamentary privilege (MP 47). Previously, I attributed Fanny’s reaction to her overly appreciative, sensitive manner. Despite Fanny’s initial negative reaction however, she so fully trusts Edmund that she offered “no further resistance” to his suggestion and gratefully accepts his help with her letter writing. Additionally, Edmund sent half a guinea under the letter’s seal to Edmund, thus doubling the cost of post were it not franked. In this scene, we are inclined, just as Fanny is to be grateful to Edmund for reaching out to Fanny.

But this theme of Edmund’s heroic kindness to Fanny tainted by a “bending of the rules” appears elsewhere in the novel. Edmund forgets that it was time for Fanny to ride while accompanying Miss Crawford hers. Fanny herself, for all her gratefulness, even acknowledges this fact, “…if she were forgotten, the poor mare should be remembered. (MP 94)” While Miss Crawford was apologetic, Edmund “added in his conviction that she [Fanny] could be in no hurry. (MP 95)” Similarly, Edmund acts against his initial better judgment when he finally concedes to take part in “Lover’s Vows.” Fanny is “more sorry to see [Edmund] drawn in to do what [he] had resolved against, and what [he knew] to think disagreeable to [her] uncle. (MP 174)” In both cases, Edmund rationalizes his decisions while Fanny still idolizes him. Like Fanny, we are tempted to accept Edmund’s rationalization and remain fond of him and his care for her.

From here, I hope to find more instances of Edmund’s “bending of rules” and perhaps explore Johnson’s references to Edmund’s “double-talk” or his opinions disguised as unselfish advice to Fanny.

Reading Femininity through Horses

In light of the fact that women riding horses enhanced cultural capital for women but threatened their claims of traditional female domesticity, the distinctions between Fanny and her cousins/Mary Crawford become clearer. Edmund’s mare factors prominently in the triangulation of Edmund, Fanny and Mary, drawing attention to the contrast between Fanny and Mary. Their different responses to horses can not only be connected with their different temperaments (which also carries significance, since positive horse attributes in the 19th century were also connected with desirable female attributes), but also with their relationship to the sequestered female sphere. Immediately after Mary receives her first lesson in horsemanship, initiated by her for pleasure, the old coachman accompanying Fanny praises Mary’s giftedness saying “I never see one sit on a horse better. She did not seem to have a thought of fear. Very different from you, miss, when you first began…Lord bless me! how you did tremble…” (95). The Miss Bertrams take especial interest in Mary’s natural affinity for riding since “her early excellence in it was like their own” (95). Horsemanship draws Mary and the Bertram girls together at the expense of excluding Fanny.

There is also the question of motivation. Fanny rides for health whereas the other women ride for pleasure. By leaving the confines of the house, symbolically leaving the “feminine roles of passivity, submissiveness, and non-physicality” (Dorre 78), the Bertram girls and Mary unbecomingly embrace independence and freedom from the patriarchal rule, making them less womanly. It is harder to make a judgment on Fanny because she, in general, has less freedom to choose what she wants to do or what she is allowed to like. There is no point in the novel where Fanny explicitly expresses her enjoyment for riding. The narrator describes Fanny’s old grey poney as a “valued friend” (64) and subsequently talks about Fanny’s “delight” (66) in the new mare calculated for her use. Most of that delight seems to derive from the “consideration of that kindness…beyond all her words to express. She regarded her cousin as an example of everything good” (66). With her delicate health, Fanny has necessity in riding, but remains a homebody. In that sense, she escapes the censure that comes from denouncing traditional femininity. She remains, in Claudia Johnson’s words, “conventionally feminine” (Johnson 95).

NB. There are a lot more readings of horses that I could pursue in the novel: 1) the relationship of ideal woman to ideal horse and how that influences female education and the reading of Edmund’s “gentling” vs. “breaking” of Fanny, 2) Tom’s obsession with horses, Mary Crawford’s jealousy, and the idea that Tom successfully replaces women with horses, 3) the economic significance of horses and the way it distinguishes class, i.e. how Fanny can’t own a horse and Henry gives a costly loan horse to William, etc.

((FRIENDLY RESEARCH ADVICE))

Dear Engl261,
I just wanted to share with you that JSTOR, which is found next to the link for EBSCO at the Van Pelt website, has just given me a ton of hits for my search: private chapel + England. I also found it particularly helpful to sort the results from oldest to newest in order to separate primary sources from secondary criticisms. See y'all tomorrow.
-Michael

Franking letters and letter-writing

While I’ve only read Pride and Prejudice aside from Mansfield Park, I remember that the information revealed in letters in the former were pivotal in Elizabeth Bennet’s understanding of Mr. Darcy. In fact, Mr. Darcy’s one letter quelled all of Lizzie’s reservations about Mr. Darcy, making him a sympathetic character to her and the audience. Similarly, in the last book of Mansfield Park, letters appear with greater frequency and at greater length from Edmund, Lady Bertram and Miss Crawford to Fanny while she is at Portsmouth to tell her of the news from her true home--Henry Crawford’s affair with Maria, Julia elopement with and Tom Bertram’s illness. The importance of letters in Austen’s novels, what they accomplished for the plot and character development in comparison/and or contrast to their usage in Mansfield Park would be interesting for biography critics and zeitgeist critics alike note Mansfield Park’s uniqueness.

Letter-writing was also personally important to Austen, which was a reflection of her own character and also of the times. She wrote letters over the course of several days to keep her friends informed of her shopping details, gossip, visits and progress on her latest writing project. During Austen’s lifetime, the British post improved greatly from mounted postboys to a system of armed mailcoaches. Despite such an improvement though, post was relatively expensive and was only free for Members of Parliament and Members of the House of Lords who could “frank” letters. Around 1813, the recipient of letter paid four pence for letter from 15 miles away. The price of the letter varied with weight, distance, whether it was paid for on dispatch or on receipt. Because of the cost, resourceful methods of letter writing to conserve paper arose like folding the letter into its own envelope as well as turning the paper sideways to write in the opposite, intersecting direction. Also, letter-writers crammed as much text as possible into one sheet of paper by writing very small texts with very little space between the lines—such letters would contain news of what had occurred over the past few days.

With all of the cost-saving methods in mind, I am interested in researching how this affected the nature and prominence of letter-writing/epistolary relationships in Mansfield Park and other writings of the Regency Era. Perhaps so much information was contained in each letter that moved the plot along quickly in the final five or so chapters of the novel because of cost of sending a letter.

The Quarterly Review

The Quarterly Review was founded in 1809 as a liberal-conservative political and literary journal to combat the Edinburgh Review. While the Edinburgh Review espoused the ideas of the Whig Party and supported a laissez-faire economy, the Quarterly Review identified with the Tories and the gradual abolition of slavery.

The journal was not necessarily helpful in influencing actual government policy, but it quickly surpassed the Edinburgh Review in readership and exercised a strong influence over the opinion of the majority of the reading public. The same went for literary influence. In fact, the Quarterly Review was the journal that published the scathing review of Keats’ “Endymion” that Shelley blamed for his death. The publication printed influential reviews of Jane Austen’s work as well.

There were several reviews and articles published in 1811, the year Austen began writing Mansfield Park, that concern works about plantations and slavery in Jamaica and the East Indies.

Austen's Use of "Lovers' Vows"

So much of modern criticism regarding Austen's use of Inchbald's "Lovers' Vows" focuses on the emphasis the acting scenes place on the immorality of the Bertram children and how this reflects their impropriety. I decided to research the reviews and critiques of the play upon its first performances in English and compare these comments with the idea that "Lovers' Vows" was a horribly scandalous play for the time and featured very provocative subject matter. I consulted the database of 18th century newspapers and searched for "Lovers' Vows". The majority of the results were from October of 1798, which corresponds to the plays first performances in Covent Garden. I was surprised to find that almost all of the reviews proclaimed it to be a marvelous adaption and very properly and tastefully done. Even more surprising perhaps, was the mention of "Kotzebue's considerable partiality for this country". Many of the critics praised the preface that Inchbald added to her play, as it justified her morality. She herself, in the preface, states the necessity of alteration because of its "original unfitness for an English stage" and that it would have been "revolting to an English audience". The newspapers even mention specific alterations, like the removal of a smoking scene, that Inchbald thought necessary. I then briefly researched the public perception of smoking during this period and found that it was indeed considered a vice to Christians, though not so horrible as to warrant open criticism. With these discoveries in mind, I am beginning to believe that Austen used the play not so much to emphasize the individuals' immorality, but rather to show the excessive priggishness of certain characters. There were a number of more "scandalous" German plays of the time, famously Goethe's Faust, that would have provided Austen with a considerably less ambiguous symbol, if that was her goal. Equally, in considering the assertion that it is not so much the content of the play, but rather the idea of these women acting that was improper, I came upon a series of Austen's work known as the "Juvenilia". These were written in her youth, for supposedly home performance, and often featured rather "racy" subject matter. Though I still intend to review the Anti-Jacobin perceptions of the play, it is beginning to seem to me that the play's tremendous success upon its introduction to England and the critics' praise of Inchbald's alterations reveal Austen's intentions as wholly those of satire. Even further, I quickly looked at the character that Fanny was supposed to play, the cottager's wife, and this is one of the most moral and praiseworthy characters. This may even further this idea that Fanny's actions were misguided to the extent of near inarticulateness by the excessive prudishness of her family's expectations.

Church Interiors: Parish vs. Private

In Chapter 9 of Mansfield Park, Fanny is disappointed upon entering the private family chapel at Sotherton.

"I am disappointed," said she, in a low voice, to Edmund. "This is not my idea of a chapel. There is nothing awful here, nothing melancholy, nothing grand. Here are no aisles, no arches, no banners. No banners, cousin, to be 'blown by the night wind of heaven.' No signs that a Scottish monarch sleeps below."

"You forget, Fanny, how lately all this has been built, and for how confined a purpose, compared with the old chapels of castles and monasteries. It was only for the private use of the family. They have been buried, I suppose, in the parish church. There you must look for the banners and the achievements."

-Fanny's emotions relate space, vision, and values: the layout of the family chapel signals to Fanny, at the very least, an absence of value in the religious sphere. Now, whether Fanny is simply disappointed that the chapel is not as pretty or interesting as its Medieval counterpart is not so important. Generally, the parish church carries some special import that is missing in the Sotherton chapel.

My research will spring from C. Pamela Graves' article "Sensing and believing: exploring worlds of difference in pre-modern England: a contribution to the debate opened by Kate Giles." This article explores the relationship between church space and the phenomenological experience of the Medieval subject as he his situated in a social hierarchy. The belief was that the specific construction of the church interior allowed the laiety to touch the Lord by viewing carefully contrived images, sculptures, and structures depicting Divinity. Essentially, the masses felt that when they entered the church at Mass, they were entering a space where Divinity resides.

In contrast, the plain layout of the family church sends a quite different message about space and divinity. This space is not G-d's; it is the family's. Such a distinction in church usage is rooted deeply in history, specifically in the short rain of James II and the Glorious Revolution. As the chapel was built during this reign, it carries extra symbolic import for this discussion. Furthermore, as the chapel is part of the estate, it is viewed merely as a branch of a larger entity. The chapel loses its position as the House of the Lord, and instead the space bends to the wills of its legitimate owners.

An application of this historicization to the text of Mansfield Park should lead to interesting conclusions. What I would like to specifially address: how do the spatial and visual constructions of buildings and estates within the novel clue us in to the phenomenological experience of early 19th century Britannia? Further, how do these experiences point to values inherent in that society? Finally, what can we surmise is Jane Austen's evaluation based on these findings, or if she means to espouse no opinion on the matter, what does this mean?

Historical Research: Portsmouth & Navy

On October 21st, 1805 the Battle of Trafalgar brought victory to the British fleet, specifically gaining a win over Spanish and French troops. Tension continued amongst both British and United States troops, increasing the need for naval officers in their fleets. In 1812, around the time that Austen was going to begin Mansfield Park, the United States invaded Canada. Between 1793 and 1815 the Royal Navy had lost 344 of its vessels and more than 100 seamen. It seems William Price was lucky to have entered the navy at the tail end of a somewhat disastrous era for the Navy. 

Fanny's relationship with William as well as Austen's own relationship with her brother's (who were both serving in the navy) often circulated around the area of Portsmouth.  Not only did it serve as a major port for those training in the navy during the time, but it was also Fanny and William Price's hometown. Austen would often meet her brother's in Portsmouth when they came home from sea. The atmosphere in the military town was notorious for being dysfunctional - riots, debauchery and gang violence were some of the few delinquencies that the area was most famous for. The naval dockyard specifically mentioned in Mansfield Park was actually located in a nearby town called Portsea. Many sailors during the time would wait in the Isle of Wright for orders, five miles from Portsmouth, blockading it from the English Channel. 

Historical Research: Horses

Almost fifty years after the publication of Mansfield Park, Queen Victoria’s physician prescribed her fresh air and exercise by means of horseback riding. This began a long and intimate relationship between the queen and her groom (who was later promoted to be her personal attendant). Gina Dorre, the author of Victorian Fiction and the Cult of the Horse, attributes part of the scandal that arose in court to the “provocative collusion of gender and class issues that the horse [engendered] in the nineteenth century” (Dorre 3).

Both before and after the creation of the railroad, the horse was important to English society. It was the main power behind transportation, whether by horseback or by some kind of horse drawn carriage. It, as well as the dog, was considered among the most noble of animals. Representing nobility and aristocratic values, the horse ennobled humanity by its servitude to an even more noble creature, man. The kind of horse was tailored to the kind of work it was required to do. As a noble beast, the horse and his relationship to man came to illustrate the model relationship between man and compliant servant. By opening acknowledging masterly superiority, the horse set an example among animals for men to follow.

Practically it was very expensive to keep a horse. Stabling, feeding, and maintaining horses was reserved for people with capital, which explains its early associations with aristocracy and landed wealth. Horse racing was very popular in the nineteenth century, more for the gambling aspect than for love of the animal. Women could ride horses, but horses were always initially associated with the masculine. On one hand, horses were seen (as in the Queen Victoria story) as ideal for exercise and fresh air. On the other hand, it took women from their culturally assigned place in the home and away from the idea of the passive, meek, non-physical angel in the home. Exemplary horse qualities were also involved in discourses of female desirability throughout the nineteenth century, including posture, gait, breeding, class standing, and disposition. From these traits, monetary market value was determined in the respective marketplaces, for the horse, in the literal marketplace and for the woman, in the marriage market.

Historical Detail 2 Posting

This week, we learned how to use a variety of databases to do historical research. By midnight on Sunday (3/22) please post a summary of what you have discovered about your chosen (or newly chosen) historical detail from Mansfield Park. For models, you might look specific paragraphs (and footnotes) within the selections we've read by Edward Said or Marilyn Butler in which Said and Butler synthesize and analyze their own historical research.

The historical area I would like to examine is located in Chapter 5 of Mansfield Park, and pertains to the bringing up of young women and the concept of being "out," as Miss Crawford asks Edmund of Fanny and her behavior as a young eighteen year old woman. This seemingly was very typical of society at the time, and the chapter seems to focus on the appropriate behavior associated with being a woman of society. This particular section interested me particularly because of Fanny's role as a confused part of her family structure, and particularly because Sir Thomas makes it very clear in earlier chapters that Fanny should always remember that she is not a Miss Bertram, despite her upbringing with their family. however, Miss Crawford seems fascinated by how Fanny is expected to fit into the social strata, especially because her two cousins are considered to be the most "handsome" girls in the county, attending balls and considering suitors to wed. Edmund does not want to speak for Fanny. They discuss how women are "ill brought up" which is also definitive of the time period, the expectations young ladies were inclined to uphold as an obligation to their family names. The quotation that was most interesting is spoken by Edmund:

"The error is plain enough," said the less courteous Edmund; "such girls are ill brought up. They are given wrong notions from the beginning. They are always acting upon motives of vanity, and there is no more real modesty in their behaviour before they appear in public than afterwards."

This "appearing in public" could ruin a young ladies entire image and her upbringing was a direct reflection of being "out." This is why this particular historical moment strikes me as it does.

"There is nothing awful here, nothing melancholy, nothing grand."

Chapter 9:

"They entered.  Fanny's imagination had prepared her for something grander than a mere, spacious, oblong room, fitted up for the purpose of devotion...'but I have not yet left Oxford long enough to forget what chapel prayers are.'"

Such a passage discusses the revolution in consciousness that had undergone in British society.  Grace, salvation, and authority lay no longer in Christ, but in the pound.  In Jane Austen's time, the gradations of society and its well-ordering seems now to lay against a wholly secular template, as evidenced by the opinions of Miss Crawford, as well as the exacting, monetary language that courses through the entire text.

A study of the shift from non-secular to secular society, as presented in Mansfield Park, can raise interesting topics in the close reading of mythological language specifically.  A lot of talk in the novel is focused on harmony and distance: with more distance, temporally (and perhaps spatially), characters in the novel are able to better understand the processes of harmony that characterize points of deferance [should I be using difference here, or should I leave Derrida alone, refresher please?!].  Likewise, we read MP from a vantage point of differance; our more liberalized state exposes the monetary myth latent in Austen's language.

This myth surfaces powerfully in the way that the narrator is not necessarily omniscient; while the narrator cannot really read private thoughts, the narration makes assertions which would depend on wholly submitting to a certain mythological system of reading the world.  By not making this recognition explicit, the mythological status of the language and the thoughts employed by the characters becomes ever stronger.  Oftentimes, disharmony arises when they, the characters, become lost in the heat of myth and are unable to take a distance from social norms and recognize the harmonizing attempts of that system.

So, in the initial disharmony between Edmund and Mary, we see Mary unable to step outside of her time and place and recognize the harmonizing effects of the church in a bygone Age.

Coming Out

In Chapter 3, on page 58 of Mansfield Park Mrs. Crawford raises the question of whether Fanny is out or not. Fanny, the reader assumes, is not out. To an outsider like Mrs. Crawford, however, it is difficult to discern because of Fanny’s quiet nature that conflicts with the fact that she dines along with her cousins who are. The state of being out is an important one to establish because in this era marriage is a given for all women, lest they be social pariah. While mention of out-ness appears a few times throughout the novel, there is never a formal coming out for Fanny. This reader was surprised to discover in Chapter 22, that “her being out was known only to her two aunts.” I had assumed that there were formal “coming out” parties during the Regency Era, just as there were popular just a few decades ago in the upper crust of American Society (my friend’s mum, for instance). The closest sort of coming out occasion that we see for Fanny occurs at the Mansfield ball that Sir Thomas throws for her and William, where she and Mr. Crawford led the dance. The question of Fanny’s outness coincides with her growth in personal constitution and courage. With further research, I’d hope to find the particulars of the coming out ritual (if there was one during the Regency Era) and how this was to affect the behaviors of women and potentially interested men.

"Lovers' Vows" in Austen's Work

A significant part of the text is taken up with the intended performance of the play "Lover's Vows". Having very briefly read the synopsis of the play, and considering the "scandalous" nature of the play in the eyes of Austen's characters, researching contemporary criticism on the impropriety of the play may offer interesting interpretations on what the characters in Austen's work think of as improper. Furthermore, in looking at the actual plot and meaning of the play, the casting of certain characters, like Edmund as Anhalt might provide further insight into Austen's portrayals of the characters. My research then would consider the play itself, and perhaps the reception it received upon its initial release and in its subsequent translation into English. The edition of Austen's text that I was given also has a footnote revealing that the supposedly improper subject matter of the play was typically perceived of German plays of the time. As each of the characters in Austen's work have varying degrees of perception on what is proper, notably those of Henry and Maria vs. Fanny and Edmund, the actual perceptions of Austen's day may reveal much about the logic of their oppositions.

Fanny's Coming Out

At the end of chapter five, Ms. Crawford and Edmund have a conversation about whether Fanny is “out” or not. Based on Fanny’s class, age, dress, and sense of propriety, Mary Crawford seems to be confused about Fanny’s status in the family and society. The fact that Fanny has never been to a ball affirms to Ms. Crawford that she clearly is not.

The question of what it means to come out seems to be strongly related to social class, since it implies that the young lady is marketable for marriage or at least independent enough to make her own decisions about her behavior in public. For Fanny this is more complicated since, on one hand, she must always see herself as lower than her cousins, and on the other hand, she attracts the attentions of upper class men like Henry Crawford and eventually Edmund Bertram. The narrator also neglects to ever specifically tell us whether Fanny is officially “out” or not and at what point she makes that shift.

Historically, what does it mean to be “out” or not? Does it only apply to women? As long as you’re out does that put you on equal footing with other women who are out? Is Fanny even qualified to be out given her poor background? Ms. Crawford is often very flippant about her opinions and so far, we only have her opinion. Knowing the context would help explain the gender politics active throughout the novel and shed light on where exactly Fanny fits in her community. Can the novel be read as Austen’s critique on “coming out” as societal norm?

Circulating Libraries and Their Influence on the Publishing Industry

In chapter 40, while living with her parents in Portsmouth, Fanny uses some of the money she was given by her uncle to purchase a subscription to a “circulating library” for her and Susan. My edition of Mansfield Park includes a note on circulating libraries, writing that free libraries were rare and books prohibitively expensive to purchase. Therefore these circulating libraries “exerted enormous influence over the kinds of books that could be published.”

The proprietors of these libraries being in control of what literature was made available to the public would have certainly affected the form and content of Austen’s writing. It may be fruitful to examine the author’s background and beliefs as well as those of the library administrators.

The mention of the reading of Quarterly Reviews as a typical evening activity could further elucidate the leanings of the novel’s characters from researching the topics and stances taken on political issues by the publication during the period.

"her strange severity, her extreme courtesy" vs. "the image of stark and uncomprimising severity"

Spotlight on James:
"Since he belonged, even at the age of six, to that great clan which cannot keep this feeling seperate from that, but must let future prospects, with their joys and sorrows, cloud what is actually at hand... he appeared the image of stark and uncomprimising severity, with his high forehead and his fierce blue eyes, impeccably candid and pure, frowning slightly at the sight of human frailty"

Spotlight on Mrs. Ramsay:
"She was now formidable to behold, and it was only in silence, looking up from their plates, after she had spoken so severely about Charles Tansley... her strange severity, her extreme courtesy, like a Queen's raising from the mud to wash a beggar's dirty foot, when thus she admonished them so very severely about that wretched atheist who had chased them--or speaking accurately, been invited to stay with them--in the Isles of Skye."

OED on Severity: 1. Strictness or sternness in dealing with others; stern or rigorous disposition or behaviour; rigour in treatment, discipline, punishment, or the like.

In the opening passages of To the Lighthouse, the concept of 'severity' is placed between Mr. Ramsay, his wife, and his son James, and this placement creates interesting spectra and paradoxes.

Mrs. Ramsay exemplifies the first kind of severity mentioned in the OED.  She strictly adheres to English customs, making sure always to display chivalry by allowing many of her husbands fans to stay over.   She likewise keeps a tight hold on her daughters so that they will receive and reflect this English severity.  Her strict adherence to custom paradoxically leads her towards circumstances of high judgement and criticism; hence, she judges Tansley severely, though her customs bid her keep him at her guest house.  Thus we may read 'severity' through Mrs. Ramsay as pure and almost fanatical attachment to chivalrous tradition, even when this attachment is contradictory.

James Ramsay exemplifies severity from the opposite spectrum.  At his young age, he yet displays childish wisdom by belonging to that 'great clan' of young wizards.  They understand, sans accuracy, that 'the moment at hand' is fleeting and cannot ever quite be captured, and that it is the prospect for the future that will always shade the present moment.  He frowns severely in his judgement upon the frail figures of the recent past--his father, the analytic philosopher--for attempting to capture reality exactingly and with public language.  Thus he exemplifies the third kind of severity mentioned in the OED, and he hopes to punish--with a hot poker perhaps--those calculating souls who are 'stern or rigorous in disposition or behavior.'  

"He was incapable of untruth..."

On page 11 of "To the Lighthouse," Woolf describes Mr. Ramsay as being "incapable of untruth, never tampered with a fact; never altered a disagreeable word to suit the pleasure or convenience of any mortal being, least of all at his own children, who, sprung from his loins, should be aware from childhood that life is difficult..." The entirety of the first chapter revolves around this "untruth," as Mr. Ramsay informs James that he will not be able to go to the lighthouse like he had planned before, even though his mother had promised him that this would be a possibility. The OED provides several definitions for the word "untruth," including "unfaithfulness, unbelief, falsehood, and inexactness.  Mr. Ramsay's character believes in the "inexactness" aspect of these several definitions, which is what makes his own children despise him. Childhood should be about celebrating that life then, isn't as difficult as Mr. Ramsay makes i t out to be, but he is overbearing and convinced that informing them of life's future pains is the best way to go about it. This definition of "inexactness," is one of the newest and most evolved definitions of untruth, as one of the first was the idea of "unfaithfulness." In a way, Mr. Ramsay is doing this to be faithful to his children in the way he feels is the most effective, to refrain from telling lies about the plausibility of events. Knowing that definition adds depth to the word and sentence, as he is not only incapable of being unfaithful but he is also incapable of inexactness, much to his children's dismay.

Ramsey's Reliance on "Nonsense"

In chapter VIII Mr. Ramsey considers the fleeting nature of human presence and unavoidability of human ignorance. While weighing these lofty ideas in his mind, he is guiltily lead off topic to consider the “trifles” of his own life that give him genuine happiness. The narration begins to list off the many seemingly trivial sources of this happiness: “he had his wife; he had his children; he had promised in six weeks’ time to talk ‘some nonsense’ to the young men...all had to be deprecated and concealed under the phrase ‘talk nonsense,’ because, in effect, he had not done the thing he might have done” (44-45). Mr. Ramsey’s reliance upon this concealment leads to a questioning of his character: whether the criticisms of William Bankes and Lily Briscoe are properly founded. The OED provides two primary definitions for “nonsense” and suggests that both have existed concomitantly with little historical precedence given to one or the other. “Nonsense” can be defined as either that which is lacking sense or absurd; or as foolishness, silliness, lacking proper behavior. Thus Mr. Ramsey’s use of “nonsense” may either instill the reader with a sense of pity, insofar as Ramsey is unable to reconcile his philosophical life with his corporeal life and is forced to rely on the deprecation of his philosophy, or merely as William and Lily see him as too “timid in life” to do “the thing he might have done”. The former reading is undoubtedly the more generous, as the narration presents him as an eminent philosopher that is just short of greatness. Perhaps it is his unavoidable reversion to the absurd form of “nonsense” that both enables him his familial happiness and hinders his advancement in thought. If, however, “nonsense” is read as silliness or foolishness, then Ramsey is no longer foregoing what he may indeed have been capable of for the appreciation of his family, but is rather mentally unequipped to deal with the unconcealed “all”.

"she holding her parasol erect"

On page 25 of “To the Lighthouse” by Woolf, is (at least) the second mention of the erect parasol. Upon my first reading, I understood the word “erect” to have the denotative meaning of “upright,” to reflect the proud air with which Mrs. Ramsay carries self—self-confidence that all of her male guests seem to, in addition to her beauty, be so attracted to. The choice of the word erect is unusual for in literature, umbrellas or parasols are usually described as being held “upright.” Today’s strong sexual connotation of erect though, clouded this reader’s initial interpretation. By Woolf’s second usage of the word, we see that erect is very appropriate indeed in reflecting Charles Tansley’s invigorated romantic feelings for Mrs. Ramsay. Following the description of erect parasol, Tansley “for the first time in his life [he] felt an extraordinary pride” a phrase which is repeated twice in the paragraph. Erect also connotes the erect tail or tuft of feathers of animals. This secondary connotation compounds the peculiar sight of Mrs. Ramsay with her erect umbrella. Umbrellas are generally held against the shoulder so that they may rest there and protect the back of the head. So, instead of being seen as confident, perhaps Mrs. Ramsay appears arrogant and bizarre like a rooster strutting about with her male friend holding her bag. The animal connotation of erect adds a texture of irony for it is Tansley who feels proud walking beside this seemingly beautiful woman.

"Some one had blundered."

This line is uttered by Mr. Ramsay and reiterated multiple times in the first few sections of To The Lighthouse, so it is worth giving extra attention. The two most recent quotations in the OED for the verb "blunder" correspond to the definition "To bring or cause to fall into a state by clumsy or inept behaviour." This is the common usage we encounter, with a blunder being a mistake resulting from carelessness or some other oversight.

However, the older definitions of "To confound, distract (in understanding)," and " To confound (in one's mind) stupidly," offer a much different meaning of the sentence. The implication is of being mentally overthrown, destroyed. In this case, there is no clumsy behavior. The blunderer is simply overpowered in his or her understanding.

Reading this statement coming from a character who is a philosopher may shed some light on the episode that takes place in the beginning of the novel. "The Ramsays were not rich, and it was a wonder how they managed to contrive it all." Mr. Ramsay raised his eight children on philosophy alone. If he were to suffer a defeat in his reasoning or understanding, it would be catastrophic to his livelihood. If the blunder was perpetrated by some other philosopher whom Ramsay based his own work off, it could create a philosophical crisis for him -- what he based his life on could be disassembled at a moment's notice.

"exceptionally able" young men and the Ramsays

“…she could not bear incivility to her guests, to young men in particular, who were poor as churchmice, "exceptionally able," her husband said, his great admirers, and come there for a holiday.”

In describing the numerous house guests that Mrs. Ramsay brings in, Mr. Ramsay uses the word able. At first glance this would sound like a compliment, since now the word is used as a synonym for someone who is competent and has a high capacity for achievement. In context, this would make sense, since Mr. Ramsay uses it to describe his own admirers. By complimenting them, he indirectly compliments himself. However, according to the OED, able in the 14th and 15th centuries meant facile—simplistic, shallow, or easily attained—and complaisant. Other obsolete meanings encompass the idea of decorum (including suitable, proper and appropriate) and advantageous possessions such as wealth, influence and power.

Knowing these definitions makes Mr. Ramsay’s usage of it both ironic and reinforcing. It’s ironic because Mr. Ramsay is indirectly showing himself to be a self-centered authority, surrounding himself with weaker men to make himself look relatively better. The wealth and influence part is especially ironic considering that these men are “poor as churchmice.” The men themselves might not be very impressive, but they fulfill a need in both Mr. Ramsay and his wife. For Mrs. Ramsay, the hint of her male guests’ complaisance and simplicity justify her need to protect them. For Mr. Ramsay it explains the kind of admirers he attracts. He describes his guests the way he would like to be perceived, powerful, influential and proper, but the word carries much more.

Week 7 Posting

By midnight on Sunday (3/1), please post about Virginia Woolf's To the Lighthouse. Look up a word from the novel in the Oxford English Dictionary (type "OED" into the library search engine and it will come up in the electronic database section). How does understanding the word's meanings (and the historical shift they have or have not undergone) inform your interpretation of the novel, or at least the portion we've read so far?