​As many scholars of Austen have long pointed out, Jane Austen intended to use Sanditon to explore the social and moral consequences of capitalism. Sadly, Austen laid the manuscript aside during her final illness. Interrogating Austen through a critical lens reveals that she was a committed anti-capitalist who was determined to fight back in the only way she could--through her pen.
    I am not referring to Austen's well-known portrayals of the landed gentry and the lesser nobility, but rather, her subtle attacks on the pernicious influence of consumerism. To a startling extent, the buying and selling of things and the rise of the urban bourgeoisie forms a backdrop to her so-called marriage plot novels. Scholar David Daiches called Austen "a Marxist before Marx." 
      It is no exaggeration to say that Austen shows us whether a character is good or bad by their reaction to consumerism. Two of Austen’s heroines never step inside a store--Elizabeth Bennet and Fanny Price. And, significantly, the heroines who do go shopping always live to regret the experience. It is only the fops and fools who like to shop, as we will see. Austen’s message could not be clearer: Capitalism is the root of all evil. Let’s critically take the novels one by one...

    ​In an earlier blog post, I referenced The Banker’s Daughters of Bristol, or, Compliance and Decision (1824) as a prime example of a novel which portrayed the Bristol mercantile class as avaricious and eager to rise in society. 
     But most of the novel has nothing to do with Jane and Maria Milsom, the titular characters. The central heroines, representing Compliance and Decision, are Louisa Gordon and Fanny Woodville. Louisa lives in a rustic cottage with her genteel but impoverished mother, and Fanny is the orphaned daughter of  a star-crossed love match. 
       The Banker’s Daughters of Bristol is a strange mixture of hackneyed prose ("pellucid waters," “woo danger in the tented field”) and conventional morality punctuated with strong editorial outbursts. The narrator and some of the characters randomly exclaim against the government, the church, the army, and British society at large. That surprised me, since the novel is a product of the Minerva Press, printers of popular romance and gothic horrors for the reading public.
​    I wonder, did the publisher even notice these little protest speeches? Maybe he just gave the manuscript a brief glance--

• young man from good family is friendly with a poor family who have a beautiful young daughter whom he is forbidden to marry, check,
• brother kidnapped by Algerine pirates, check,
• another young man from good family is friendly with a poor family who have a beautiful young daughter whom he is forbidden to marry, uh... okay, check,
• dissolute old nobleman tries to force heroine into mercenary marriage, check, 
• long-lost brother shows up under an assumed name but drops some exceedingly broad hints that he's not who he claims to be, check,
• hero returns from the dead, check,

--but he missed the political parts. I am surprised at how openly critical these remarks are. We are told female authors could not express bold political opinions in these times--right?
​    And another strange thing about this story: we open Volume I with “Lady Waldegrave” and her bratty little boy, then, without explanation, we turn to a completely different cast of characters. Not even a dividing line--

    In my last post, I discussed the plot and themes of the 1796 novel Edward, written by the Scottish author John Moore. Moore’s novel featured a large cast of characters who often discussed current events and serious topics; in addition Moore inserted his own brief editorials directly into the narrative. As mentioned, he touched on quack doctors, unrest in France, and the poor pay given to England’s soldiers. His plot incorporated social criticism of foolish spendthrifts and vain coquettes. And he unequivocally condemned slavery.
      Now, I’m back to banging the drum about the fact that many, many, 18th-century authors discussed slavery more extensively and explicitly than Jane Austen, yet modern academia has focused a giant microscope on references to slavery (or imputed references) in her novels. The opinions of the beloved author are a matter of intense investigation and speculation. I believe this is because some people can only read Austen with a self-approving conscience if they can say she was an ardent abolitionist. As professor Patricia A. Matthews wrote, some of her "students who were Jane Austen fans felt instantly complicit for liking stories where slavery might be present without an explicit critique." 
     Well, Moore is explicit. You don't need the aid of scholarly divination to understand John Moore's position on slavery. His attitude doesn't have to be sifted and searched for. He condemned slavery in his first novel, Zeluco, and he wrote a bold and shocking conversation about slavery in Edward. The tone of his criticism is as harsh as the writer (Jonathan Swift) that he invokes. In fact, it will be difficult reading for some, so be forewarned...

     My article about the connection between Jane Austen's unfinished fragment Sanditon and Elizbeth Helme's novel The Farmer of Inglewood Forest appears in the September/October 2021 issue of Jane Austen's Regency World magazine. Here is more about Elizabeth Helme.​

      Elizabeth Helme's writing career spanned almost thirty years. She wrote gothic novels, historical novels, and sentimental novels. Her sentimental novels are: Louisa, or the Cottage on the Moor (1787), Clara and Emmeline, or the Maternal Benediction (1788), The Farmer of Inglewood Forest (1796),  Albert, or The Wilds of Strathnavern (1799), and Modern Times (1814). These books have everything: virtuous heroines, dauntless heroes,  suffering orphans, dastardly villains, rich uncles, dissipated aristocrats, untrustworthy foreigners, loyal servants, scheming servants, duels, runaway carriages, surprise inheritances, fainting, blushing, frenzy fits, life-threatening fevers, abductions, seductions, amazing coincidences, and.... some things that also show up in Jane Austen novels, too.