While trying to decide what to blog about this week, I found myself drawn to Book VI of "The Female Quixote." I found our discussions in class on Friday (spurred by Dr. Hague’s questions) particularly interesting. I think we’d all agree that there’s never enough time in class to give each question the attention they deserve, so in lieu of a longer class I'd like to explore one of Dr. Hague’s questions a bit more.
The third question on the handout from Friday asks: “What do you think of Henry Fielding’s assessment of Lennox’s novel?” In case you don’t have your handout in front of you, his assessment is as follows:
[“it is indeed a Work of true Humour, and cannot fail of giving a rational, as well as very pleasing, Amusement to a sensible reader, who will at once be instructed and very highly diverted... tho’ the Humour of Romance, which is principally ridiculed in this work, be not at present greatly in fashion in this Kingdom, out Author hath taken such care throughout her Work, to expose all those vices and follies in her Sex which are chiefly predominant in our Days, that it will afford very useful Lessons to all those young Ladies who will peruse it with proper Attention."]
By Fielding's account then, Lennox's novel is both entertaining and instructive. Rather than leaving the assessment at that, however, Fielding claims that the novel works principally to ridicule romance, and that Lennox has taken great care to expose all the "vices and follies in her sex." Fielding finishes his assessment by praising the novel as a useful sort of bible that will serve as a guide for young women, provided they read it the "right" way--taking to heart its moral "Lessons," rather than reading it simply for pleasure or diversion.
I wouldn't entirely disagree with Fielding's claim that Lennox's novel is at once entertaining and instructive. However, the type of instruction that Fielding assigns to the novel is problematic. His claim that Lennox has "taken such care throughout her Work, to expose all those vices and follies in her Sex," is an unvalidated one. In fact, when held against Book VI, this claim doesn't hold water.
By Fielding's account then, Lennox's novel is both entertaining and instructive. Rather than leaving the assessment at that, however, Fielding claims that the novel works principally to ridicule romance, and that Lennox has taken great care to expose all the "vices and follies in her sex." Fielding finishes his assessment by praising the novel as a useful sort of bible that will serve as a guide for young women, provided they read it the "right" way--taking to heart its moral "Lessons," rather than reading it simply for pleasure or diversion.
I wouldn't entirely disagree with Fielding's claim that Lennox's novel is at once entertaining and instructive. However, the type of instruction that Fielding assigns to the novel is problematic. His claim that Lennox has "taken such care throughout her Work, to expose all those vices and follies in her Sex," is an unvalidated one. In fact, when held against Book VI, this claim doesn't hold water.
Book VI is nearly entirely made up of a false history that Sir George gives of himself. He tells this "history" in a very romantic style, in the hopes of winning Arabella. Despite his efforts to sway Arabella by relating his acts of chivalry and love to her, his plan doesn't go the way he hopes (The heading for Book VI, chapter X foreshadows this outcome: "Wherein Sir George concludes his History; which produces an unexpected Effect"). The unexpected effect is that, rather than win Arabella's affection through his incorporation of the romantic notions that govern Arabella's every move into his own "history," she is turned off by what she views as a serious character flaw in Sir George: inconsistency.
Consider Arabella's words: "Had you imitated the illustrious Heroes of Antiquity, as well as in the Constancy of their affections, as, it must be confessed, you have done in their admirable valour; you would now be either sighing in your Cave for the Loss of the generous Sydimiris, or wandering through the World in Search of the beautiful Philonice"(251). In other words, Arabella is claiming that, had Sir George imitated the great romantic heroes in their constancy of affections as much as he had imitated their valour, he would still be either grieving the loss of Sydimiris, or still searching for Philonice. Because of Sir George's "shameful inconsistency" (according to Arabella), his plan to win Arabella over backfires--not only turning Arabella off, but also pushing her farther into her romantic world. Arabella claims that, had Sir George modelled his behaviour after the "Heroes of Antiquity," persevering in his affection, rather than letting such inconsistency rule over him, he would "arrive at their Glory and Happiness, that is the reputation of being perfectly constant" (251). In other words, if Sir George had been constant in his affections like the heroes Arabella listed, he would have gained their happiness, as well.
Now let's return to Fielding's claim, that Lennox has taken great care to expose all the "vices and follies in her sex." It is true that most of the novel revolves around Arabella's skewed view of reality because of her strict adherence to romantic ideals. However, Arabella's adherence to a romantic code does not serve to expose the follies of women. Rather, I would argue conversely, that Arabella's stubborn adherence to Romance as a model for behaviour--especially in Book VI--exposes the follies of men who exploit women in order to take advantage of them. Rather than exposing the vices and follies of women, Lennox is pointing out (among other things) the limitations of female power in a society where a woman's fate is largely decided by men.
Sir George's false history serves to perpetuate Arabella's condition by reaffirming her false reality. However (though hyperbolic and ridiculous), Arabella's false reality actually allows her some agency in the novel. Even though this romantic model for behaviour wouldn't likely afford the same kind of independence for a woman in real life during Lennox's time as it did for Arabella, the novel does seem to be making the claim (in some small way at least), that for a woman to have complete agency requires a complete change in ideals.
Consider Arabella's words: "Had you imitated the illustrious Heroes of Antiquity, as well as in the Constancy of their affections, as, it must be confessed, you have done in their admirable valour; you would now be either sighing in your Cave for the Loss of the generous Sydimiris, or wandering through the World in Search of the beautiful Philonice"(251). In other words, Arabella is claiming that, had Sir George imitated the great romantic heroes in their constancy of affections as much as he had imitated their valour, he would still be either grieving the loss of Sydimiris, or still searching for Philonice. Because of Sir George's "shameful inconsistency" (according to Arabella), his plan to win Arabella over backfires--not only turning Arabella off, but also pushing her farther into her romantic world. Arabella claims that, had Sir George modelled his behaviour after the "Heroes of Antiquity," persevering in his affection, rather than letting such inconsistency rule over him, he would "arrive at their Glory and Happiness, that is the reputation of being perfectly constant" (251). In other words, if Sir George had been constant in his affections like the heroes Arabella listed, he would have gained their happiness, as well.
Now let's return to Fielding's claim, that Lennox has taken great care to expose all the "vices and follies in her sex." It is true that most of the novel revolves around Arabella's skewed view of reality because of her strict adherence to romantic ideals. However, Arabella's adherence to a romantic code does not serve to expose the follies of women. Rather, I would argue conversely, that Arabella's stubborn adherence to Romance as a model for behaviour--especially in Book VI--exposes the follies of men who exploit women in order to take advantage of them. Rather than exposing the vices and follies of women, Lennox is pointing out (among other things) the limitations of female power in a society where a woman's fate is largely decided by men.
Sir George's false history serves to perpetuate Arabella's condition by reaffirming her false reality. However (though hyperbolic and ridiculous), Arabella's false reality actually allows her some agency in the novel. Even though this romantic model for behaviour wouldn't likely afford the same kind of independence for a woman in real life during Lennox's time as it did for Arabella, the novel does seem to be making the claim (in some small way at least), that for a woman to have complete agency requires a complete change in ideals.
I'm not sure how Fielding can justify his claims about sexual behavior in F.Q. As you pointed out Sir George's story, which clearly has a great deal of implied sexuality, but in the end this is predominately what Arabella is critical of. So how can Fielding read the story as he does when the central character is completely against the sorts of sexual foibles that he (Fielding) implies the book instructs the reader about? This seems like Fielding has his own agenda, that he is trying to apply to F.Q. (and perhaps other texts?) It would be interesting to see what he has said about other texts focused on women.
ReplyDeleteIn response to both Katie's blog and Ross' comment, I wonder what Fielding would define as "vices and follies." In some ways, Arabella's story needs to be concluded before we can judge it; we sense that she won't/can't go on in her delusions, but until we know how this conflict is resolved, it's hard to say conclusively what Lennox intended. Could Fielding be referring to Miss Glanville in his quote as well? In other words, could some of the vices and follies be located outside of Arabella?
ReplyDelete(Along different lines... there's also the fact that Fielding himself was a comic novelist, and such novelists had to fight harder to make the argument that their works were both entertaining and instructive. Perhaps some of Fielding's motivation for this review is anxiety his own writing and its reception.)
I love, that once again, we get more lectures about 'reading it the right way'. Henry Fielding makes sure to inform us that if we're reading it for pleasure and we miss the morals, we obviously are doing it wrong. I wasn't aware that that as well is reading it wrong. I'd rather curl up with my YA fiction and a cup of tea any day than have to read anything I'm supposed to take as instruction.
ReplyDeleteIn response to Ross' question: "how can Fielding read the story as he does when The central character is completely against the sorts of sexual foibles that Fielding Implies the book instructs the reader about?"
ReplyDeleteAlthough this is obvious to me now that I see it so clearly laid out by Ross, I didn't make the connection that Fielding's comment was hypocritical. Although I argued that his comments were unfounded, and that Lennox seems to be making the opposite claim, I didn't make the connection that Fielding was in fact making a claim about the instruction of the novel that was in direct contradiction with what the novel seems to purport. If there is instruction to be found within the novel, it seems to be that men- not women- are full of vice, and therefore, for Fielding to make such an opposing statement concerning the novel's instruction implies that he either didn't read the novel very closely or that he ignored the instances of instruction he didn't agree with. How convenient of him... (thanks Ross!)