| This blog explores social attitudes in Jane Austen's time, discusses her novels, reviews forgotten 18th century novels, and throws some occasional shade at the modern academy. The introductory post is here. My "six simple questions for academics" post is here. |
CMP#168 A Modern Incident in Domestic Life (1803) by Isabella Kelly
Felicity Jones as Catherine Morland, engrossed in a mysterious gothic When I finished Volume One of A Modern Incident, I was half-way through the novel and I still had absolutely no idea what was going on. No idea. So far we just had:
Page after page of characters stammering out incoherent remarks (dashes and dots in the original):
And holy snapping turtles, this had some lurid stuff; at least, lurid compared to the decorous voice of Jane Austen. This has several same-sex teases, and an incest tease, and a ghost-who-turns-out-to-be not a ghost, adultery and seduction, along with forged letters and other skullduggery. Get your smelling salts out for this one.
Page after page of characters stammering out incoherent remarks (dashes and dots in the original):
- “Thy looks! –I feel them, --they will d---n me yet!”)
- “I cannot pray! –I will not—no—Hell is but reprobation—that is mine already—or will be soon --- ---- ---- --- --- Yet, --but him [Mr. Winstanley, that is] I now hate—I know him,--he knows not me,---no, nor my deeds.—One effort yet, to cool this burning fever, to ease this secret torture, --this---this—Oh, Mortimore! –Mortimore!—Thee!—this—and if I fail! –be they blasted in all hope, --and I!—dark perdition cover me for ever—ever--!”
- “Why Mrs. Courtney uttered such a frantic shriek, or what caused such violent emotion, the reader is left to imagine…”
- “the secrets of another are not my own.”
- "I have already told you... that I never mean to marry."
- "With these incoherent and inexplicable words, he rushed with frantic impetuousity from their presence.”
And holy snapping turtles, this had some lurid stuff; at least, lurid compared to the decorous voice of Jane Austen. This has several same-sex teases, and an incest tease, and a ghost-who-turns-out-to-be not a ghost, adultery and seduction, along with forged letters and other skullduggery. Get your smelling salts out for this one.
The book got me thinking about Emma, in which the reader is kept in the dark about the Frank Churchill/Jane Fairfax romance until the end. When you get to the revelation in Emma, you realize that there were a lot of clues that you missed: Frank’s abrupt decision to go to London, supposedly to get his hair cut, Jane’s insistence on picking up her own letters at the post office, the way Frank encouraged Emma to think that Jane and Mr. Dixon were attracted to each other… Can this be said of A Modern Incident as well--can the reader keep track of the hints that are dropped?
Let's meet our main characters: a brother and sister team, Frederick and Ellen Mortimore. Frederick is empathetic, gentle, rational, and introverted and Ellen is ardent, impulsive, intelligent, and accomplished. They should arouse our sympathies because they have fallen on hard times, but it was challenging for me to stay engaged when their motivations were withheld by the author, and through various hints we learn that they are not who they claim to be.
Let's meet our main characters: a brother and sister team, Frederick and Ellen Mortimore. Frederick is empathetic, gentle, rational, and introverted and Ellen is ardent, impulsive, intelligent, and accomplished. They should arouse our sympathies because they have fallen on hard times, but it was challenging for me to stay engaged when their motivations were withheld by the author, and through various hints we learn that they are not who they claim to be.
“Try to love you!” repeated Mortimore, with irrepressible emotion….“Still!” he repeated, his eyes wild, yet fixed with strange and piercing meaning on [Mrs. Winstanley]. She was dull,--she understood not the silent intellligence.” (Join the club, sister). |
Balm? Sorry, you're on your own The other main character, Mr. Winstanley, “an Englishman of family and high connexions.. [who is] allowed to be the most handsome, sensible, and accomplished man in the Island” also didn’t arouse my sympathy because he was a selfish philanderer. He asks Frederick to tell his pregnant and discarded mistress Annette, that he (Mr. Winstanley) is going to marry a rich widow. Frederick “poured the balm of consolation on [Annette’s] wounded heart” and inspired her to renounce her life of sin. Her baby is born dead, and she disappears from the narrative. If all that's not enough, Mr. Winstanley is a plantation-owner (the story is set in Barbados) as is the kindly older mentor female figure, Mrs. Courtney. More on that later.
Do I care that Winstanley is harboring a guilty secret? “Distraction!” he shrieked. “I am –I am undone! “…………….bear thy beloved image where passion can no more………. The virtues lingering in thy bosom…..” and “They are dead! –perished” cried he, starting, “I am not human! –What can I do? –Retreat! –Perdition! –What then? –Oh, thought! thought! thought! split not my burning brain!”
How could this book get worse? That’s right, poetry. There’s some poetry. And a ghost.
Do I care that Winstanley is harboring a guilty secret? “Distraction!” he shrieked. “I am –I am undone! “…………….bear thy beloved image where passion can no more………. The virtues lingering in thy bosom…..” and “They are dead! –perished” cried he, starting, “I am not human! –What can I do? –Retreat! –Perdition! –What then? –Oh, thought! thought! thought! split not my burning brain!”
How could this book get worse? That’s right, poetry. There’s some poetry. And a ghost.
Spoilers from here on:
I’m introducing the spoilers early, to avoid going through the plot of the book twice: Mr. Winstanley changed his name from Fitzalvan when he left England with his mistress, erroneously thinking that his wife was in love with another. He abandoned Ceceline and his children without a word and he changed his name. The young man Frederick Mortimore turns out to be Ceceline in disguise, and Ellen Mortimore is really his son Arthur. They cross-dress throughout the story, so the author can give us scenes like the lovely young Antonia Courtney declaring her love for Ellen:
I’m introducing the spoilers early, to avoid going through the plot of the book twice: Mr. Winstanley changed his name from Fitzalvan when he left England with his mistress, erroneously thinking that his wife was in love with another. He abandoned Ceceline and his children without a word and he changed his name. The young man Frederick Mortimore turns out to be Ceceline in disguise, and Ellen Mortimore is really his son Arthur. They cross-dress throughout the story, so the author can give us scenes like the lovely young Antonia Courtney declaring her love for Ellen:
Image generated by Bing AI “I cannot leave you!” cried Antonia. “Dear, dear Ellen can you leave me! –what will you do?”
“I shall run wild—distracted!”
“Run wild!” repeated she, “let us run any where, so as it is together.—to leave me now, now when I have learned to love you, learned to be almost like you—”
“In pity say no more, Antonia,” interrupted Ellen, her cheeks in a conscious glow, “I cannot bear it.”
“Promise me then to stay with me,” [Antonia pleads, asking Ellen not to take a governess job she’s been offered, fearing that her employer will fall in love with her], you will marry him, and then—”
“Marry him!” cried Ellen, interrupting her, “no, Antonia, I will never marry anyone that would divide me from you,--do not fear,--do not think it.”
“I shall run wild—distracted!”
“Run wild!” repeated she, “let us run any where, so as it is together.—to leave me now, now when I have learned to love you, learned to be almost like you—”
“In pity say no more, Antonia,” interrupted Ellen, her cheeks in a conscious glow, “I cannot bear it.”
“Promise me then to stay with me,” [Antonia pleads, asking Ellen not to take a governess job she’s been offered, fearing that her employer will fall in love with her], you will marry him, and then—”
“Marry him!” cried Ellen, interrupting her, “no, Antonia, I will never marry anyone that would divide me from you,--do not fear,--do not think it.”
The revelation that Frederick Mortimore is Winstanley's wronged wife explains this once-incomprehensible speech: “Oh, this, indeed, is insupportable,” cried [Mortimore], staggering against the wall, as he entered the house, “to see it! –hear it! –what, in my very sight! – Oh, Annette, Annette, little do you know –who—Distraction!—What is this?—I cannot bear it!”
Later, Mr. Winstanley is deathly ill and the doctor declares the only possible cure is for somebody to use their human body heat to snuggle in bed with him all night and break his fever. Winstanley’s new wife refuses to do it, his mistress Harriet refuses to do it, so Frederick volunteers to do it. He sends everyone out of the room, then: “He hastily undressed and stepped into the bed, raising his eyes to Heaven… He clasped Winstanley in his arms, and folded him to his throbbing breast….”
We have Mr. Winstanley trying to proposition Ellen, unaware that he’s hitting on his own son. We have his mistress Harriet making a play for Frederick, unaware that it’s her old best friend Ceceline who she betrayed.
We have Mr. Winstanley trying to proposition Ellen, unaware that he’s hitting on his own son. We have his mistress Harriet making a play for Frederick, unaware that it’s her old best friend Ceceline who she betrayed.
"Frederick" finds "Ceceline's" wedding ring. Bing AI generated image. What makes all these teasers acceptable is that it’s all a morality play, it’s all a don’t try this at home, kids. Or this, either. Or things like this. Don't worry, Antonia has really fallen in love with a man and Frederick is the long-lost, heroically forbearing, loyal wife of Winstanley. The author injects a sermonette: “Turn, youth!—turn, innocence, and view the picture!—and should your unwary feet, unguided by prudence, unsupported by rectitude, have taken one little step towards error, look back, and, oh. Retreat! –Consider, dishonour is the wreck of peace,--the blight of every hope,--the canker of every joy;--like a malign fiend it pursues through every path in lie,--it goads on to the very bed of death itself—and even there forsakes not, for it survives the grave.”
Mr. Winstanley survives the fever, thanks to Ceceline, but she catches it and her true identity is unmasked on her death bed with more incoherent stammering; “Oh, mourn not me! –look—your son, as Ellen, he sustained—watched his mother! –Now—now—my latest—only love, I die—dying for you! –Oh, happy—happy!—Your children--- --- my --- --- --- --- --- my god! –my Fitzavern!”
Ceceline’s death is fatal for her husband: “He made one essay to speak, but this lips only moved, and the words choaked him! He raised Ceceline’s head to his bosom—folded the cold corse within his arms—and with one—only one groan—it was his last—he sunk—he was gone—he never breathed again—and Fitzavern was with Ceceline!!! ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___
Mr. Winstanley survives the fever, thanks to Ceceline, but she catches it and her true identity is unmasked on her death bed with more incoherent stammering; “Oh, mourn not me! –look—your son, as Ellen, he sustained—watched his mother! –Now—now—my latest—only love, I die—dying for you! –Oh, happy—happy!—Your children--- --- my --- --- --- --- --- my god! –my Fitzavern!”
Ceceline’s death is fatal for her husband: “He made one essay to speak, but this lips only moved, and the words choaked him! He raised Ceceline’s head to his bosom—folded the cold corse within his arms—and with one—only one groan—it was his last—he sunk—he was gone—he never breathed again—and Fitzavern was with Ceceline!!! ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___ ___
I might have missed it, but I saw no reason why Ceceline and her son had to conceal themselves under clouds of mystery, or why doing so did anything to resolve their problems rather than complicate them. Once Ceceline received a convenient inheritance of fifty thousand pounds from the convenient death of her uncle, she could have shipped herself off to Barbardos and accused her husband of bigamy. Then it would have come out that Harriet, who called herself Mrs. Winstanley, was not legally married to him.
Mr. Winstanley did become a bigamist when he married the rich widow. But instead of going to the minister and preventing this crime from occurring, Ceceline dressed herself up as a ghost (as one does) and appeared before him, futilely warning him not to marry.
The marriage didn’t prosper anyway, because the rich widow’s: “long unrestrained passions, voluptuous living, and high pampered appetites, had left her vitiated mind only fit for the vilest gratifications; and as they ill suited the natural delicacy of Winstanley’s taste,” she paid for a gigolo.
So really, in this novel, people do senseless things and it turns out they accomplish nothing. Except for the deceitful mistress Harriet, I suppose. She succeeded in luring Winstanley/Fitzavern away from Ceceline by forging a letter. She comes to a miserable end, though, we are told.
Mr. Winstanley did become a bigamist when he married the rich widow. But instead of going to the minister and preventing this crime from occurring, Ceceline dressed herself up as a ghost (as one does) and appeared before him, futilely warning him not to marry.
The marriage didn’t prosper anyway, because the rich widow’s: “long unrestrained passions, voluptuous living, and high pampered appetites, had left her vitiated mind only fit for the vilest gratifications; and as they ill suited the natural delicacy of Winstanley’s taste,” she paid for a gigolo.
So really, in this novel, people do senseless things and it turns out they accomplish nothing. Except for the deceitful mistress Harriet, I suppose. She succeeded in luring Winstanley/Fitzavern away from Ceceline by forging a letter. She comes to a miserable end, though, we are told.
Gothic titillation and confusing clues. Image generated by Bing AI. Catching all the clues
I wonder if the young ladies poring over this tale had any notion what “the vilest gratifications” and the "degrading passions" of the rich widow might be. Or how did they interpret "irresistible nature" and "broke forth" in this passage: "The young and interesting Antonia hanging with easy, innocent fondness on his bosom… proved too much for the high and ardent spirits of…. Arthur Fitzavern; --nature, irresistible nature broke forth, and without either motion or speech betraying, Mrs. Courtney penetrated the secret.”
Hopefully the female readers spent more time pondering the double standard the author upholds between male and female conduct. But more than that, I wonder: did the early readers of this book recollect every previously-inexplicable detail that had gone before the Big Reveal, and did they say to themselves, aha, so when Frederick/Ceceline turned pale and rushed away when Harriet Winstanley arrived at Mrs. Courtney’s, it’s because she recognized her old-backstabbing friend. Or, did they turn back to volume one to re-skim all those passages which made no sense before?
Jane Austen is not the first to string clues and hints throughout her tale, but we can read and re-read Emma with pleasure, finding some new nuance to savor every time. Austen can withhold information from us and still create a coherent and interesting story that doesn't rely on salacious details to keep us turning the pages.
I wonder if the young ladies poring over this tale had any notion what “the vilest gratifications” and the "degrading passions" of the rich widow might be. Or how did they interpret "irresistible nature" and "broke forth" in this passage: "The young and interesting Antonia hanging with easy, innocent fondness on his bosom… proved too much for the high and ardent spirits of…. Arthur Fitzavern; --nature, irresistible nature broke forth, and without either motion or speech betraying, Mrs. Courtney penetrated the secret.”
Hopefully the female readers spent more time pondering the double standard the author upholds between male and female conduct. But more than that, I wonder: did the early readers of this book recollect every previously-inexplicable detail that had gone before the Big Reveal, and did they say to themselves, aha, so when Frederick/Ceceline turned pale and rushed away when Harriet Winstanley arrived at Mrs. Courtney’s, it’s because she recognized her old-backstabbing friend. Or, did they turn back to volume one to re-skim all those passages which made no sense before?
Jane Austen is not the first to string clues and hints throughout her tale, but we can read and re-read Emma with pleasure, finding some new nuance to savor every time. Austen can withhold information from us and still create a coherent and interesting story that doesn't rely on salacious details to keep us turning the pages.
Content warning: this section reproduces callous references to enslaved people
The other aspect of this book which might be of interest is the matter-of-fact portrayal of enslavement in Barbados. No amount of academic detachment is going to prepare you for certain words strung together in a certain way, such as: Mrs. Courtney’s “slaves were numerous, and it was her pleasure to let them live happily. Her plantations were extensive, and they not only sheltered and supplied the sable inhabitants in her service, but also gave employment and independence to many Europeans and their families.”
As well it's jarring, to say the least, to see Winstanley, a plantation-owner, speak blithely to the rich widow about love, slaves and chains:
“Thou art a dear provoking wretch, Winstanley,” [says the widow flirtatiously]
“I would provoke you,” kissing her hand, “to make me a willing slave for life. –How I should glory in my chains!”
“They shall hang easy on you,” cried the lady, “do not fear them—”
“Fear them!” interrupted he, “I die,--I languish for them!”
These passages, and others, tell us that although abolition had been hotly debated, you could still encounter a variety of opinions in the novels of the day, from vehement abolitionism to casual acceptance of enslavement. Whichever side you were on, there was no need to use veiled allusions.
The other aspect of this book which might be of interest is the matter-of-fact portrayal of enslavement in Barbados. No amount of academic detachment is going to prepare you for certain words strung together in a certain way, such as: Mrs. Courtney’s “slaves were numerous, and it was her pleasure to let them live happily. Her plantations were extensive, and they not only sheltered and supplied the sable inhabitants in her service, but also gave employment and independence to many Europeans and their families.”
As well it's jarring, to say the least, to see Winstanley, a plantation-owner, speak blithely to the rich widow about love, slaves and chains:
“Thou art a dear provoking wretch, Winstanley,” [says the widow flirtatiously]
“I would provoke you,” kissing her hand, “to make me a willing slave for life. –How I should glory in my chains!”
“They shall hang easy on you,” cried the lady, “do not fear them—”
“Fear them!” interrupted he, “I die,--I languish for them!”
These passages, and others, tell us that although abolition had been hotly debated, you could still encounter a variety of opinions in the novels of the day, from vehement abolitionism to casual acceptance of enslavement. Whichever side you were on, there was no need to use veiled allusions.
About the author:
Isabella Kelly (1759–1857) was a prolific authoress, chiefly of Gothic novels, who supported her children after her two marriages did not prosper. She lived in poverty most of her life. She lived to the age of 98, calling herself the last surviving novelist of her era. In A Modern Incident, she worked in some lavish praise of the successful author Matthew “Monk” Lewis, “one whose nature reflects honour on the human kind,” because he had been helping one of her sons find work. James Fordyce, of Fordyce’s Sermons, was her uncle.
Scholar Yael Shapiro points out that Kelly focused on marital troubles in her novels, as opposed to ending her books with weddings: “Where [Gothic best-seller Ann] Radcliffe sets up a sharp dichotomy between good and bad marriages, Kelly’s novels seem to accept men’s controlling behavior as a possible part of any marriage.”
Isabella Kelly (1759–1857) was a prolific authoress, chiefly of Gothic novels, who supported her children after her two marriages did not prosper. She lived in poverty most of her life. She lived to the age of 98, calling herself the last surviving novelist of her era. In A Modern Incident, she worked in some lavish praise of the successful author Matthew “Monk” Lewis, “one whose nature reflects honour on the human kind,” because he had been helping one of her sons find work. James Fordyce, of Fordyce’s Sermons, was her uncle.
Scholar Yael Shapiro points out that Kelly focused on marital troubles in her novels, as opposed to ending her books with weddings: “Where [Gothic best-seller Ann] Radcliffe sets up a sharp dichotomy between good and bad marriages, Kelly’s novels seem to accept men’s controlling behavior as a possible part of any marriage.”
| Rachel Feder, in a new book about Jane Austen and cultural tropes (of which much more in future) points out “Gothic novels… simultaneously offered an escape from and a commentary on the real world, which has always been dangerous for women [the real world, that is]. [T]hese stories were often subversive but not particularly progressive.” That's certainly my take on A Modern Incident." We have some subversive fun with some same-sex and incest teases, (if that's your idea of fun), then the author winds up her tale with more double-standard morality:
|
Shapira, Yael. “Beyond the Radcliffe Formula: Isabella Kelly and the Gothic Troubles of the Married Heroine.” Women's Writing: the Elizabethan to Victorian Period, vol. 26, no. 3, 2019, pp. 245–63.
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