| "[Scholar] Ellen Moers goes on to say that it could be argued that Jane Austen achieved the perfection she did precisely 'because there was a mass of women's novels, excellent, fair, and wretched, for her to study and improve upon... It is the uncovering of a literary tradition from which she has been summarily removed.'" "It is not necessary to praise or imitate one's predecessors in order to be the inheritor of a tradition they forged." -- Dale Spender, Mothers of the Novel: 100 Good Women Writers Before Jane Austen |
CMP#200 Top Five 18th Century Novelistic Tropes Austen Never Used
I've read a lot of novels of the long eighteenth century (click on Authoresses or Book Reviews at right) and I'm fascinated by the similarities to, and differences from, Austen.
In some earlier posts, I talked about the similarities between some 18th century novels and some characters and plot devices in Austen's novels. There will be more to come, so stay tuned! But in the meantime, let's look at the contrast between Austen and her contemporaries. She said "pictures of perfection" made her "sick and wicked," that is, she didn't like the too-good-to-be-true heroines who populated sentimental novels. She laughed at wildly improbable incidents, and she noticed when characters were given nothing to do: of one novel, she said, "there are many characters introduced, apparently merely to be delineated."
She avoided the incredibly improbable coincidence, the ridiculously improbable misunderstanding, and her heroines were all rational creatures--not helpless, mewling crybabies.
Below, just for fun, are some of the novelistic tropes that Jane Austen avoided:
In some earlier posts, I talked about the similarities between some 18th century novels and some characters and plot devices in Austen's novels. There will be more to come, so stay tuned! But in the meantime, let's look at the contrast between Austen and her contemporaries. She said "pictures of perfection" made her "sick and wicked," that is, she didn't like the too-good-to-be-true heroines who populated sentimental novels. She laughed at wildly improbable incidents, and she noticed when characters were given nothing to do: of one novel, she said, "there are many characters introduced, apparently merely to be delineated."
She avoided the incredibly improbable coincidence, the ridiculously improbable misunderstanding, and her heroines were all rational creatures--not helpless, mewling crybabies.
Below, just for fun, are some of the novelistic tropes that Jane Austen avoided:
#5 The Purloined Letter
Sometimes heroes and heroines are kept apart through misunderstanding. One way this can occur is when dad, or a jealous rival, has purloined their mail. This happens, for example, to Matilda in The Bristol Heiress. Her husband goes to Italy to rebuild their fortunes, and his best friend intercepts their letters to each other, while also sending the husband letters claiming Matilda is being unfaithful to him. Neither one sees through the deception.
Austen uses letters in her novels, but I can't think of any examples of purloined letters, even in her subplots. Frank Churchill fails to post a vital letter to Jane Fairfax in Emma because he is distracted by his step-mother's sudden death. In Sense and Sensibility, Willoughby claims that the cool, dismissive letter he wrote to Marianne when he broke it off was actually dictated by his fiancée, but this is not a purloined letter.
Nor can I even think of an example when a jealous rival succeeded in creating a rift between the hero and heroine. Lucy Steele wasn't lying when she said she was engaged to Edward. Miss Bingley tried to come between Darcy and Elizabeth but it actually backfired on her.
Sometimes heroes and heroines are kept apart through misunderstanding. One way this can occur is when dad, or a jealous rival, has purloined their mail. This happens, for example, to Matilda in The Bristol Heiress. Her husband goes to Italy to rebuild their fortunes, and his best friend intercepts their letters to each other, while also sending the husband letters claiming Matilda is being unfaithful to him. Neither one sees through the deception.
Austen uses letters in her novels, but I can't think of any examples of purloined letters, even in her subplots. Frank Churchill fails to post a vital letter to Jane Fairfax in Emma because he is distracted by his step-mother's sudden death. In Sense and Sensibility, Willoughby claims that the cool, dismissive letter he wrote to Marianne when he broke it off was actually dictated by his fiancée, but this is not a purloined letter.
Nor can I even think of an example when a jealous rival succeeded in creating a rift between the hero and heroine. Lucy Steele wasn't lying when she said she was engaged to Edward. Miss Bingley tried to come between Darcy and Elizabeth but it actually backfired on her.
#4 The Incredible Coincidental Reunion
It is quite the coincidence that William Walter Elliot encounters Anne Elliot on the seawall at Lyme a few weeks before he formally meets her in Bath. The encounter does not resolve anything in the plot, in the sense of walking into an inn and seeing your long-lost relative there, as occurs in Clara and Emmeline. In Volume II, Clara and Emmeline return from France escorted by Mr. Monson, a nice old English gentleman. They stop to rest at an Inn, and who should be there but Mr. Monson's long-lost brother and his own two sons--back from India after having made their fortunes. A moment later in walks Clara's friend Lady Anne: "but no sooner had she entered the apartment, than giving a loud scream she fainted." It's her two uncles and her two cousins, one of whom she's in love with! More about coincidence as a plot device here.
In Fanny Fitz York (1818) separate groups of people are travelling to London. I suppose that's not so surprising since everybody went to London for the season. But a highwayman robs a wealthy noblewoman, then robs another lady, not knowing it's his own mother who abandoned him when he was a little kid, then is caught by a mob and rescued by the sister of the wealthy noblewoman, and he turns out to be the illegitimate son of her deceased brother. Small world.
In contrast, Anne Elliot does not even know she has met her cousin until after he's left the inn at Lyme. But the encounter begins the process of reawakening Wentworth's buried love for Anne, and it introduces the character of Mr. Elliot in person in Volume I. If it weren't for him being at Lyme, we wouldn't meet him until Volume II.
It is quite the coincidence that William Walter Elliot encounters Anne Elliot on the seawall at Lyme a few weeks before he formally meets her in Bath. The encounter does not resolve anything in the plot, in the sense of walking into an inn and seeing your long-lost relative there, as occurs in Clara and Emmeline. In Volume II, Clara and Emmeline return from France escorted by Mr. Monson, a nice old English gentleman. They stop to rest at an Inn, and who should be there but Mr. Monson's long-lost brother and his own two sons--back from India after having made their fortunes. A moment later in walks Clara's friend Lady Anne: "but no sooner had she entered the apartment, than giving a loud scream she fainted." It's her two uncles and her two cousins, one of whom she's in love with! More about coincidence as a plot device here.
In Fanny Fitz York (1818) separate groups of people are travelling to London. I suppose that's not so surprising since everybody went to London for the season. But a highwayman robs a wealthy noblewoman, then robs another lady, not knowing it's his own mother who abandoned him when he was a little kid, then is caught by a mob and rescued by the sister of the wealthy noblewoman, and he turns out to be the illegitimate son of her deceased brother. Small world.
In contrast, Anne Elliot does not even know she has met her cousin until after he's left the inn at Lyme. But the encounter begins the process of reawakening Wentworth's buried love for Anne, and it introduces the character of Mr. Elliot in person in Volume I. If it weren't for him being at Lyme, we wouldn't meet him until Volume II.
It's not what it looks like! #3 The Misunderstanding, or, the Compromising Situation
In The Bristol Heiress, the heroine Caroline goes to a cheap boarding house to visit her unfortunate friend Matilda. She is amazed to see her acquaintance Mr. Darnley, a rich young gentleman, also there. They are standing at the window together when an acquaintance drives by and spots them. Soon it's all over the ton that she and Darnley are lovers who are meeting secretly in some seedy boarding house. The same misfortune occurs to the heroine in Constance, except she's fending off an unwanted gentleman caller and the person who spots her from the street is the man she loves.
The closest Austen comes to this type of contrived misunderstanding scenario is In Persuasion. Captain Wentworth, having realized that he still loves Anne Elliot, is immediately convinced that she is in a relationship with her cousin Mr. Elliot when he sees them together at a music concert. This misunderstanding delays their reunion. Scholars Jim and Ellen Moody surmise that Austen originally intended to spin out this misunderstanding even longer, with some kind of incident at the theatre in Bath, or with Wentworth hearing more Bath gossip about Anne Elliot and Mr. Elliot. But although Austen wrote the set-up for the fresh misunderstandings and obstacles to occur (see Persuasion, Chapter 22, the scene at the White Hart), there are no further complications of this sort. Perhaps Austen rejected the idea as being too contrived and artificial, or perhaps her increasing illness made her decide to wrap up the story.
Austen parodies the idea of the heroine being wrongfully judged in Northanger Abbey: "To be disgraced in the eye of the world, to wear the appearance of infamy while her heart is all purity, her actions all innocence, and the misconduct of another the true source of her debasement, is one of those circumstances which peculiarly belong to the heroine’s life, and her fortitude under it what particularly dignifies her character. Catherine had fortitude too; she suffered, but no murmur passed her lips."
In The Bristol Heiress, the heroine Caroline goes to a cheap boarding house to visit her unfortunate friend Matilda. She is amazed to see her acquaintance Mr. Darnley, a rich young gentleman, also there. They are standing at the window together when an acquaintance drives by and spots them. Soon it's all over the ton that she and Darnley are lovers who are meeting secretly in some seedy boarding house. The same misfortune occurs to the heroine in Constance, except she's fending off an unwanted gentleman caller and the person who spots her from the street is the man she loves.
The closest Austen comes to this type of contrived misunderstanding scenario is In Persuasion. Captain Wentworth, having realized that he still loves Anne Elliot, is immediately convinced that she is in a relationship with her cousin Mr. Elliot when he sees them together at a music concert. This misunderstanding delays their reunion. Scholars Jim and Ellen Moody surmise that Austen originally intended to spin out this misunderstanding even longer, with some kind of incident at the theatre in Bath, or with Wentworth hearing more Bath gossip about Anne Elliot and Mr. Elliot. But although Austen wrote the set-up for the fresh misunderstandings and obstacles to occur (see Persuasion, Chapter 22, the scene at the White Hart), there are no further complications of this sort. Perhaps Austen rejected the idea as being too contrived and artificial, or perhaps her increasing illness made her decide to wrap up the story.
Austen parodies the idea of the heroine being wrongfully judged in Northanger Abbey: "To be disgraced in the eye of the world, to wear the appearance of infamy while her heart is all purity, her actions all innocence, and the misconduct of another the true source of her debasement, is one of those circumstances which peculiarly belong to the heroine’s life, and her fortitude under it what particularly dignifies her character. Catherine had fortitude too; she suffered, but no murmur passed her lips."
Keeping those eyes downcast #2 The Speechless Heroine
Many heroines are rendered speechless by a marriage proposal. They are covered with "confusion," and often taken completely by surprise. Gertrude in Albert, or the Wilds of Strathnavern, has been pining for Albert for some time, but when he finally proposes, she's got little to say. Laetitia Matilda Hawkins actually does a pretty cute scene at the breakfast table between Constance and her lover when Constance is so flustered she can't make the tea.
Elizabeth Bennet, of course, is not at a loss for words when Mr. Collins and later Mr. Darcy address her. It's true we are seldom given the exact dialogue for the proposal in Austen: we don't know what Fanny had to say, or Elinor, or Marianne, or Anne Elliot. But we don't imagine that any of them--okay, maybe Fanny--would be covered in confusion, turn scarlet, nearly faint, and finally refer the question to her father, or in Fanny's case, Sir Thomas.
And Elizabeth Bennet and Emma Woodhouse have no problem turning down a proposal they don't want!
Inger Brodey has written a book about Austen's endings.
And, the number one 18th century novelistic trope that Austen avoided...
Many heroines are rendered speechless by a marriage proposal. They are covered with "confusion," and often taken completely by surprise. Gertrude in Albert, or the Wilds of Strathnavern, has been pining for Albert for some time, but when he finally proposes, she's got little to say. Laetitia Matilda Hawkins actually does a pretty cute scene at the breakfast table between Constance and her lover when Constance is so flustered she can't make the tea.
Elizabeth Bennet, of course, is not at a loss for words when Mr. Collins and later Mr. Darcy address her. It's true we are seldom given the exact dialogue for the proposal in Austen: we don't know what Fanny had to say, or Elinor, or Marianne, or Anne Elliot. But we don't imagine that any of them--okay, maybe Fanny--would be covered in confusion, turn scarlet, nearly faint, and finally refer the question to her father, or in Fanny's case, Sir Thomas.
And Elizabeth Bennet and Emma Woodhouse have no problem turning down a proposal they don't want!
Inger Brodey has written a book about Austen's endings.
And, the number one 18th century novelistic trope that Austen avoided...
A Girl Reading a Letter with an Old Man by Joseph Wright #1 The Fortunate Fortune
In many 18th-century novels, a lack of money keeps the hero and heroine apart. This problem is resolved with an unexpected inheritance, often from a rich uncle or other long-lost relative who returns from the East or West Indies. This occurs in two of Elizabeth Helme's novels, Alfred, or the Wilds of Strathnavern, and Modern Times. In I'll Consider of It, the hero receives a large inheritance which he generously shares with an older relative who was cheated out of his father's will. He doesn't realize that General Littlefame is the grandfather of the girl he's fallen in love with. A fortune and a baronetcy fall into the poor curate Charles Evelyn's lap in Ellen and Julia. A kindly older acquaintance with no heirs rescues The Match Girl from poverty.
People talk about how important class and wealth is in Austen. Yes, class matters, but the sudden acquisition of wealth is not used to resolve the lovers' impediments. Elinor Dashwood and Edward Ferrars manage to scrape together a modest living, with a grudging addition from his mother. Mr. Darcy doesn't care about Elizabeth Bennet's modest dowry, Sir Thomas values Fanny Price's personal qualities over wealth and he blesses her marriage to his son Edmund. Emma Woodhouse is already wealthy. Captain Wentworth earned his fortune through capturing French vessels during war and he doesn't care that Anne's father can't afford to pay out her dowry.
Previous post: Is Lydia a feminist rebel or a victim? Next post: I'm in an anthology!
In many 18th-century novels, a lack of money keeps the hero and heroine apart. This problem is resolved with an unexpected inheritance, often from a rich uncle or other long-lost relative who returns from the East or West Indies. This occurs in two of Elizabeth Helme's novels, Alfred, or the Wilds of Strathnavern, and Modern Times. In I'll Consider of It, the hero receives a large inheritance which he generously shares with an older relative who was cheated out of his father's will. He doesn't realize that General Littlefame is the grandfather of the girl he's fallen in love with. A fortune and a baronetcy fall into the poor curate Charles Evelyn's lap in Ellen and Julia. A kindly older acquaintance with no heirs rescues The Match Girl from poverty.
People talk about how important class and wealth is in Austen. Yes, class matters, but the sudden acquisition of wealth is not used to resolve the lovers' impediments. Elinor Dashwood and Edward Ferrars manage to scrape together a modest living, with a grudging addition from his mother. Mr. Darcy doesn't care about Elizabeth Bennet's modest dowry, Sir Thomas values Fanny Price's personal qualities over wealth and he blesses her marriage to his son Edmund. Emma Woodhouse is already wealthy. Captain Wentworth earned his fortune through capturing French vessels during war and he doesn't care that Anne's father can't afford to pay out her dowry.
Previous post: Is Lydia a feminist rebel or a victim? Next post: I'm in an anthology!
| Spender, Dale. Mothers of the Novel : 100 Good Women Writers before Jane Austen. Pandora, 1986. |
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