When you reflect upon my unhappy situation, which is attended with so many indelicate and even shocking circumstances, some of which my pride will not let me think of with patience; all aggravated by the contents of my cousin’s affecting letter; you will not wonder that the vapourishness which has laid hold of my heart should rise to my pen. And yet it would be more kind, more friendly in me, to conceal from you, who take such a generous interest in my concerns, that worst part of my griefs, which communication and complaint cannot relieve.
But to whom can I unbosom myself but to you: when the man who ought to be my protector, as he has brought upon me all my distresses, adds to my apprehensions; when I have not even a servant on whose fidelity I can rely, or to whom I can break my griefs as they arise; and when his bountiful temper and gay heart attach every one to him; and I am but a cipher, to give him significance, and myself pain!—These griefs, therefore, do what I can, will sometimes burst into tears; and these mingling with my ink, will blot my paper. And I know you will not grudge me the temporary relief.
But I shall go on in the strain I left off with in my last, when I intended rather to apologize for my melancholy. But let what I have above written, once for all, be my apology. My misfortunes have given you a call to discharge the noblest offices of the friendship we have vowed to each other, in advice and consolation; and it would be an injury to it, and to you, to suppose it needed even that call.
***
Let me build on these foundations. I can but try, my dear. It is my duty to try all probable methods to restore the poor outcast to favour. And who knows but that once indulgent uncle, who has very great weight in the family, may be induced to interpose in my behalf? I will give up all right and title to my grandfather’s devises and bequests, with all my heart and soul, to whom they please, in order to make my proposal palatable to my brother. And that my surrender may be effectual, I will engage never to marry.
What think you, my dear, of this expedient? Surely, they cannot resolve to renounce me for ever. If they look with impartial eyes upon what has happened, they will have something to blame themselves for, as well as me.
I presume, that you will be of opinion that this expedient is worth trying. But here is my difficulty: If I should write, my hard-hearted brother has so strongly confederated them all against me, that my letter would be handed about from one to another, till he had hardened every one to refuse my request; whereas could my uncle be engaged to espouse my cause, as from himself, I should have some hope, as I presume to think he would soon have my mother and my aunt of his party.
Similar to the last excerpt, we see Clarissa lost and quite alone here. She notes that Anna is the only trustworthy friend she has — she cannot trust Lovelace to protect her, as he is her primary threat and has further isolated her from those she loves, and she does not even have a servant she can trust. Furthermore, this letter is interesting because we see Clarissa's emotions quite literally mixing with her writing: "…these [tears] mingling with my ink, will blot my paper."I invite you all to further interrogate not only Clarissa's writing and identity here, but also the degree to which she is "alone." Can we see other options for her at this point? And once again, what role does Anna play in helping her?
I also marked the section about Clarissa's tears mingling with the ink of her letters. I think what we are seeing in this letter is Clarissa, once again, exposing her true self in her writing. This is a very melancholic letter where she really cannot see what will happen next and dreads finding out for herself. YET – she continues to find some relief in writing these letters to Anna. "But to whom can I unbosom myself but to you?" (L566).Even when Clarissa feels totally alone and despairs for her future, she can turn to Anna for at least some comfort in telling someone how she really and truly feels. And that's important! Confidantes are super important in times of trouble, and Anna is most certainly Clarissa's.
I am struck with how embodied Clarissa's writing is in this letter. She says that "that the vapourishness which has laid hold of my heart should rise to my pen," and that her "griefs therefore, do what I can, will sometimes burst into tears; and these mingling with my ink, will blot my paper." I am thinking, of course, of the Kvande article, which establishes the strong connection between the body and manuscript culture. Clarissa's hypervigilence about protecting the chastity (even sanctity) of her body coupled with her unwillingness to eat and her later physical decline, suggests that, in a very significant way, Clarissa's identity is written on her body as well as in her letters. And these places where the tears blot the letters seem very significant sites of Clarissa's identity.
I am struck with how embodied Clarissa's writing is in this letter. She says that "that the vapourishness which has laid hold of my heart should rise to my pen," and that her "griefs therefore, do what I can, will sometimes burst into tears; and these mingling with my ink, will blot my paper." I am thinking, of course, of the Kvande article, which establishes the strong connection between the body and manuscript culture. Clarissa's hypervigilence about protecting the chastity (even sanctity) of her body coupled with her unwillingness to eat and her later physical decline, suggests that, in a very significant way, Clarissa's identity is written on her body as well as in her letters. And these places where the tears blot the letters seem very significant sites of Clarissa's identity.
I, too, was struck by the relevance of the Kvande piece in analyzing this excerpt. The body, self, and letter all come together as one here and illustrate once again the vulnerability that results from the manuscript culture, illustrating the malleability not only of the manuscript's form, but also its author's identity.There are also moments in previous volumes where Clarissa's emotions affect her "hand," causing her handwriting to become uncontrolled. She often apologizes to Anna for these moments, suggesting once again this inseparable link between the body, self, and letter that Kvande analyzes.