| 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. Spoilers abound in my discussion of these forgotten novels, and I discuss 18th-century attitudes which I do not necessarily endorse. Woman of Colour-centric coverage continues with a comparison of another anonymous novel with The Woman of Colour. Click on the "Woman of Colour Mystery" menu item to the right for the other posts about this novel. |
| “How few people chuse with prudence and judgment in marriage; and, in consequence, how unhappy are the generality of the married! Is not courtship a kind of masquerade, in which both parties wear a borrowed character? And the minds and dispositions of each are then only discoverable when they are joined inseparably for life. When the mask then is pulled off, and the hideous deformity detected; when both endeavouring to be swindlers, are found both to have been dupes, what dissensions, what unhappiness, what vexation must necessarily ensue!” -- Sir John Scarsdale channelling his inner Mary Crawford, for you Mansfield Park aficionados |
CMP#268 Another forced-marriage plot in Follies of Fashion (1801)
Here’s another novel which uses the same forced-marriage premise as The Woman of Colour, but to less dramatic effect. Our hero, John Scarsdale, is estranged from his father who is living openly with his mistress while the family baronetcy goes to rack and ruin. Scarsdale travels about the continent and befriends a retired merchant, Mr. Aubrey, who has a lovely daughter. The constraints of the plot mean that Aubrey has no one else in the world to turn too when he falls ill but his youthful new friend. When Mr. Aubrey dies, Scarsdale “promised to supply his place in the guardianship of the young lady… but judge... my astonishment, when on opening his will I found he had bequeathed me the sum of five thousand pounds, and left his daughter the bulk of his fortune, on condition of her marrying her guardian when she was of age, “provided his inclinations were so conformable.” It turns out his inclinations are conformable. Though he is in his late twenties and Emily is not yet 18, she is everything he would like in a bride...
The insinuating Mr. Clerimont Made for each other
Scarsdale takes Emily to England and places her heroine with a respectable gentlewoman who has a few other pupils. She’s happy there. Meanwhile, Scarsdale’s father also dies and our young hero sets about repairing the damage done to his estate, improving the lot of his farmer-tenants, and generally being wonderful. He is also the soul of delicacy and honour so it’s very difficult for him to figure out how he’s going to explain the terms of the father’s will to Emily once she comes of age. Worse for his delicacy, he’s afraid she will marry him just to be obedient to the will of her dearly beloved late father. What if she marries him but loves another? Gosh, he would hate that.
He has a sister which means it’s proper for Emily to accept an invitation to visit her at their country estate. Two other unmarried men are hanging about there as well: Deterville, who is courting the sister, and Clerimont, who goes after Emily.
For the rest of the book, our hero is convinced that Emily loves Clerimont. This misunderstanding proves extremely difficult to clear up. He is so naturally modest that he doesn't see that he is in every respect a better catch than Clerimont. To be fair, we have the old appearances-are-against-her problem. She is caught “in earnest discourse” with Clerimont. And on one occasion, when she is alarmed and overheated at a masquerade ball, she faints into Clerimont’s arms. Plus, Deterville arranges for Emily to be convinced that, like the hero in Sir Charles Grandison, Sir John is obliged in honour to marry an Italian lady on the continent. As a heroine, Emily can't make her preference clear or frankly tell the hero that she doesn't love Clerimont. Every time Sir John tells Emily he loves her, Emily is “overcome with confusion” and can “not utter a word.”
This misunderstanding is stretched out to ludicrous lengths. Finally, Emily and Scarsdale get things cleared up and they get married. That’s the plot, but hoo boy, some other aspects of this novel...
Scarsdale takes Emily to England and places her heroine with a respectable gentlewoman who has a few other pupils. She’s happy there. Meanwhile, Scarsdale’s father also dies and our young hero sets about repairing the damage done to his estate, improving the lot of his farmer-tenants, and generally being wonderful. He is also the soul of delicacy and honour so it’s very difficult for him to figure out how he’s going to explain the terms of the father’s will to Emily once she comes of age. Worse for his delicacy, he’s afraid she will marry him just to be obedient to the will of her dearly beloved late father. What if she marries him but loves another? Gosh, he would hate that.
He has a sister which means it’s proper for Emily to accept an invitation to visit her at their country estate. Two other unmarried men are hanging about there as well: Deterville, who is courting the sister, and Clerimont, who goes after Emily.
For the rest of the book, our hero is convinced that Emily loves Clerimont. This misunderstanding proves extremely difficult to clear up. He is so naturally modest that he doesn't see that he is in every respect a better catch than Clerimont. To be fair, we have the old appearances-are-against-her problem. She is caught “in earnest discourse” with Clerimont. And on one occasion, when she is alarmed and overheated at a masquerade ball, she faints into Clerimont’s arms. Plus, Deterville arranges for Emily to be convinced that, like the hero in Sir Charles Grandison, Sir John is obliged in honour to marry an Italian lady on the continent. As a heroine, Emily can't make her preference clear or frankly tell the hero that she doesn't love Clerimont. Every time Sir John tells Emily he loves her, Emily is “overcome with confusion” and can “not utter a word.”
This misunderstanding is stretched out to ludicrous lengths. Finally, Emily and Scarsdale get things cleared up and they get married. That’s the plot, but hoo boy, some other aspects of this novel...
Click pic for the Featherstone I prefer O tempora! O mores!
This contrived and silly plot is made a vehicle for page after page after page of sententious moralizing about the follies of and decadence of society, chiefly through the author’s mouthpiece, a cynical character named Mr. Featherstone. I think I would cross the street to avoid this guy. He never shuts up with his sarcastic condemnations of society.
Emily is an inexperienced young girl entering into the world but I have noticed that those heroines who are also heiresses are not shy about expressing their opinions. She is no dependent little blushing flower. She readily swaps critical remarks about how she detests card-playing and the insipidity of the arts in the present age, and so on.
This contrived and silly plot is made a vehicle for page after page after page of sententious moralizing about the follies of and decadence of society, chiefly through the author’s mouthpiece, a cynical character named Mr. Featherstone. I think I would cross the street to avoid this guy. He never shuts up with his sarcastic condemnations of society.
Emily is an inexperienced young girl entering into the world but I have noticed that those heroines who are also heiresses are not shy about expressing their opinions. She is no dependent little blushing flower. She readily swaps critical remarks about how she detests card-playing and the insipidity of the arts in the present age, and so on.
The "domino" costume for Masquerade Balls, rather lazy choice, I think, like wrapping yourself with toilet paper and being a mummy. The behaviour of Mr. Deterville
Scarsdale’s sister is more or less engaged to Mr. Deterville. We learn from his letters to his friend that he is stalling his marriage to Miss Scarsdale in hopes of winning Emily, who is very pretty and has the larger inheritance. In his letters, he glories in being a hypocritical cad but he also comes to admire Emily in the way that Henry Crawford comes to admire Fanny Price in Mansfield Park: “There is something so impressing in a truly beautiful and virtuous woman, that even libertinism bends the knee to her with wonder and adoration; all licentiousness is banished in her presence; and from the superior awe, and majestic efficacy of her character, we rakes become, even in our own opinion, mean and contemptible.”
Emily gets up early, as heroines do, and she walks in the garden with a volume of poetry. Well, Mr. Deterville makes a pass at Emily in the gazebo. Does Emily warn her friend that her fiancée is a creep? No. And it gets worse. Deterville abducts Emily from the masquerade ball under false pretences, takes her to a house on the outskirts of London and vows his love for her. She tells him she loves Sir John and no-one else, and he is about to commit sexual assault on her when Sir John’s friend Mr. Gower bursts in and rescues her. Deterville instantly regrets his behaviour and vows he will marry Miss Scarsdale. Great! says the heroine. She is “pleased and astonished at his behaviour.” All is forgiven. He's not such a bad guy after all. Water under the bridge. He marries Scarsdale’s sister. Yikes!
Scarsdale’s sister is more or less engaged to Mr. Deterville. We learn from his letters to his friend that he is stalling his marriage to Miss Scarsdale in hopes of winning Emily, who is very pretty and has the larger inheritance. In his letters, he glories in being a hypocritical cad but he also comes to admire Emily in the way that Henry Crawford comes to admire Fanny Price in Mansfield Park: “There is something so impressing in a truly beautiful and virtuous woman, that even libertinism bends the knee to her with wonder and adoration; all licentiousness is banished in her presence; and from the superior awe, and majestic efficacy of her character, we rakes become, even in our own opinion, mean and contemptible.”
Emily gets up early, as heroines do, and she walks in the garden with a volume of poetry. Well, Mr. Deterville makes a pass at Emily in the gazebo. Does Emily warn her friend that her fiancée is a creep? No. And it gets worse. Deterville abducts Emily from the masquerade ball under false pretences, takes her to a house on the outskirts of London and vows his love for her. She tells him she loves Sir John and no-one else, and he is about to commit sexual assault on her when Sir John’s friend Mr. Gower bursts in and rescues her. Deterville instantly regrets his behaviour and vows he will marry Miss Scarsdale. Great! says the heroine. She is “pleased and astonished at his behaviour.” All is forgiven. He's not such a bad guy after all. Water under the bridge. He marries Scarsdale’s sister. Yikes!
Mentions of Slavery
I give the following examples of how casually people compared things to slavery and how casually they spoke of "negroes" to give you an idea of how people used slavery as a metaphor even while their countrymen were actual slave-owners. As a metaphor for love: “You may make conquests… Let the wretches walk like captives in your train, to swell your triumph, and rattle your chains. A fine woman is nothing without such creatures…”
As a metaphor in marriage: Emily argues (in earnest, I think) that a woman should not have pin money (a separate allowance that she controls) settled on her, as that shows a lack of confidence in her husband. Miss Scarsdale demurs: “Could you imagine that we marry merely to be made slaves, and upper servants to our lords and masters? Nay, if we should follow your advice, our condition would be worse than a servant’s for they can give warning to quit, and a wife can’t.”
Emily says that skill in the art of love “comes as naturally to the sex [i.e. to women] as swimming to a negro; our skill compensates for our weakness and our risk."
I give the following examples of how casually people compared things to slavery and how casually they spoke of "negroes" to give you an idea of how people used slavery as a metaphor even while their countrymen were actual slave-owners. As a metaphor for love: “You may make conquests… Let the wretches walk like captives in your train, to swell your triumph, and rattle your chains. A fine woman is nothing without such creatures…”
As a metaphor in marriage: Emily argues (in earnest, I think) that a woman should not have pin money (a separate allowance that she controls) settled on her, as that shows a lack of confidence in her husband. Miss Scarsdale demurs: “Could you imagine that we marry merely to be made slaves, and upper servants to our lords and masters? Nay, if we should follow your advice, our condition would be worse than a servant’s for they can give warning to quit, and a wife can’t.”
Emily says that skill in the art of love “comes as naturally to the sex [i.e. to women] as swimming to a negro; our skill compensates for our weakness and our risk."
Remarks on female novelists
I don't know which female novelists in particular Mr. Featherstone is criticizing here: “the ladies have of late totally monopolized the branch of novel-writing, and brought it into no little discredit by their politics and philosophy. They have dipped into metaphysics too; but, instead of bringing up pearls, have stuck fast in the mud, and one, whom I know, has taken a plot for her next production from the reports of the King’s bench, brought in the arguments of the counsel on both sides, the address to the jury, and the charge from the judge; and this they call uniting pleasure and instruction. They introduce chemistry likewise, natural history, and political justice...” (He goes on in the same vein). That last, "political justice," may be a reference to the philosopher William Godwin as that was the title of his book.
I don't know which female novelists in particular Mr. Featherstone is criticizing here: “the ladies have of late totally monopolized the branch of novel-writing, and brought it into no little discredit by their politics and philosophy. They have dipped into metaphysics too; but, instead of bringing up pearls, have stuck fast in the mud, and one, whom I know, has taken a plot for her next production from the reports of the King’s bench, brought in the arguments of the counsel on both sides, the address to the jury, and the charge from the judge; and this they call uniting pleasure and instruction. They introduce chemistry likewise, natural history, and political justice...” (He goes on in the same vein). That last, "political justice," may be a reference to the philosopher William Godwin as that was the title of his book.
Comparisons to The Woman of Colour
As noted, Follies of Fashion has nothing to say about slavery or empire. As for religion, it is not as explicit or as incessant as The WoC. A minor character espouses the same religious worldview as The WoC's Olivia Fairfield: “But every thing we suffer in our painful journey through life, originates from these two causes;--it is either to try us under affliction, and see whether we be found wanting—for those whom God loveth he chasteneth—or else it is a punishment for our offences and misbehaviour.” This author is not as fond of exclamation points as the author of The WoC but both are very fond of italics for conveying emphasis and sarcasm.
Follies of Fashion is also an epistolary novel, but unlike The Woman of Colour, which is almost all letters from Olivia Fairfield to her governess back in Jamaica, this novel has letters from the hero, the heroine, and the villain to their various correspondents. These letters recount long conversations verbatim and include lengthy philosophical asides, thus stretching the novel out to three volumes. They would have taken Emily hours to write!
Another Mansfield Park glance: an offstage character marries foolishly and his wife runs him into debt. He has to give up the townhouse and “live among the horrid boors in the country, where [his wife] again drove the poor man to distraction by her absurd and fanciful plans of improvement, such as cutting down his old oaks to open long vistas… new-modelling the house, and fitting it up in a tasty style of modern elegance; so that it soon changed its appearance from the simple, but massive grandeur of an Englishman’s castle…”
As noted, Follies of Fashion has nothing to say about slavery or empire. As for religion, it is not as explicit or as incessant as The WoC. A minor character espouses the same religious worldview as The WoC's Olivia Fairfield: “But every thing we suffer in our painful journey through life, originates from these two causes;--it is either to try us under affliction, and see whether we be found wanting—for those whom God loveth he chasteneth—or else it is a punishment for our offences and misbehaviour.” This author is not as fond of exclamation points as the author of The WoC but both are very fond of italics for conveying emphasis and sarcasm.
Follies of Fashion is also an epistolary novel, but unlike The Woman of Colour, which is almost all letters from Olivia Fairfield to her governess back in Jamaica, this novel has letters from the hero, the heroine, and the villain to their various correspondents. These letters recount long conversations verbatim and include lengthy philosophical asides, thus stretching the novel out to three volumes. They would have taken Emily hours to write!
Another Mansfield Park glance: an offstage character marries foolishly and his wife runs him into debt. He has to give up the townhouse and “live among the horrid boors in the country, where [his wife] again drove the poor man to distraction by her absurd and fanciful plans of improvement, such as cutting down his old oaks to open long vistas… new-modelling the house, and fitting it up in a tasty style of modern elegance; so that it soon changed its appearance from the simple, but massive grandeur of an Englishman’s castle…”
Contemporary Review
The Critical Review was not impressed: “The author of these volumes is by no means destitute of abilities, but they do not appear to advantage when employed in novel-writing. The language is sententious and didactic, rather than familiar. There is no diversity of character in the work; and the plot is so far from being interesting, that we can discover no real reason why Sir John Scarsdale and Miss Aubrey might not have been married as well in the beginning of the first volume as at the conclusion of the last. The amusements of the present day are certainly conducted in a more trifling manner than they were fifty years ago; but the author’s censure of them is abuse rather than satire.” I wish they'd said something about the disgusting Mr. Deterville. Was it really all right with people back then that men could behave that way and get away with it?
About the author
Mr. Lyttleton is credited with seven titles published between 1801 and 1805, most published by Minerva, including some historical romances and several gothic novels and at least one picaresque novel titled Peregrine. Anthony Mandal, a leading scholar of the novels of this era, calls him “the enigmatic Mr. Lyttleton,” who “catered to popular, circulating-library tastes.” Enigmatic in the sense that we don’t know anything about him, but in his didactic novels, he did not spare us his opinions about things. For another of his novels, the reviewer said: "Where the author pursues the thread of his history, and relates the adventures of his principal characters, his manner is simple and impressive; yet, in his digressions, he is vague and languid... we hope he will another time avoid the ridiculous affectation of quoting Latin scraps, in a work that is read by that class of persons only who are not likely to understand them." The author quotes Virgil on the title page of Follies of Fashion, but I'm not sure what point he is making: “When one is torn away, another does not fail to appear, golden; and the branch puts forth leaves of the same metal.”
The Critical Review was not impressed: “The author of these volumes is by no means destitute of abilities, but they do not appear to advantage when employed in novel-writing. The language is sententious and didactic, rather than familiar. There is no diversity of character in the work; and the plot is so far from being interesting, that we can discover no real reason why Sir John Scarsdale and Miss Aubrey might not have been married as well in the beginning of the first volume as at the conclusion of the last. The amusements of the present day are certainly conducted in a more trifling manner than they were fifty years ago; but the author’s censure of them is abuse rather than satire.” I wish they'd said something about the disgusting Mr. Deterville. Was it really all right with people back then that men could behave that way and get away with it?
About the author
Mr. Lyttleton is credited with seven titles published between 1801 and 1805, most published by Minerva, including some historical romances and several gothic novels and at least one picaresque novel titled Peregrine. Anthony Mandal, a leading scholar of the novels of this era, calls him “the enigmatic Mr. Lyttleton,” who “catered to popular, circulating-library tastes.” Enigmatic in the sense that we don’t know anything about him, but in his didactic novels, he did not spare us his opinions about things. For another of his novels, the reviewer said: "Where the author pursues the thread of his history, and relates the adventures of his principal characters, his manner is simple and impressive; yet, in his digressions, he is vague and languid... we hope he will another time avoid the ridiculous affectation of quoting Latin scraps, in a work that is read by that class of persons only who are not likely to understand them." The author quotes Virgil on the title page of Follies of Fashion, but I'm not sure what point he is making: “When one is torn away, another does not fail to appear, golden; and the branch puts forth leaves of the same metal.”
Previous post: More forced-marriage plot--The Decision, part two
Mandal Anthony. Jane Austen and the Popular Novel: The Determined Author. Palgrave Macmillan UK, 2007.
Mandal Anthony. Jane Austen and the Popular Novel: The Determined Author. Palgrave Macmillan UK, 2007.
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