Richardson as Editor (L103)

Mr. Lovelace, in continuation of his last letter, (No. VII.)
     gives an account to his friend (pretty much to the same
     effect with the lady's) of all that passed between them at
     the inns, in the journey, and till their fixing at Mrs.
     Sorling's; to avoid repetition, those passages in his
     narrative are extracted, which will serve to embellish
     her's; to open his views; or to display the humourous talent
     he was noted for.

     At their alighting at the inn at St. Alban's on Monday
     night, thus he writes:
The people who came about us, as we alighted, seemed by their jaw-fallen faces, and goggling eyes, to wonder at beholding a charming young lady, majesty in her air and aspect, so composedly dressed, yet with features so discomposed, come off a journey which made the cattle smoke, and the servants sweat. I read their curiosity in their faces, and my beloved’s uneasiness in her’s. She cast a conscious glance, as she alighted, upon her habit, which was no habit; and repulsively, as I may say, quitting my assisting hand, hurried into the house.*****
Ovid was not a greater master of metamorphoses than thy friend. To the mistress of the house I instantly changed her into a sister, brought off by surprise from a near relation’s, (where she had wintered,) to prevent her marrying a confounded rake, [I love always to go as near the truth as I can,] whom her father and mother, her elder sister, and all her loving uncles, aunts, and cousins abhorred. This accounted for my charmer’s expected sullens; for her displeasure when she was to join me again, were it to hold; for her unsuitable dress upon the road; and, at the same time, gave her a proper and seasonable assurance of my honourable views.
Upon the debate between the lady and him, and particularly upon that
part   where she upbraids him with putting a young creature upon making a
   sacrifice of her duty and conscience, he writes:
All these, and still more mortifying things, she said.
I heard her in silence. But when it came to my turn, I pleaded, I argued, I answered her, as well as I could.—And when humility would not do, I raised my voice, and suffered my eyes to sparkle with anger; hoping to take advantage of that sweet cowardice which is so amiable in the sex, and to which my victory over this proud beauty is principally owing.
She was not intimidated, however, and was going to rise upon me in her temper; and would have broken in upon my defence. But when a man talks to a woman upon such subjects, let her be ever so much in alt, ’tis strange, if he cannot throw out a tub to the whale;—that is to say, if he cannot divert her from resenting one bold thing, by uttering two or three full as bold; but for which more favourable interpretations will lie.
     To that part, where she tells him of the difficulty she made
     to correspond with him at first, thus he writes:
Very true, my precious!—And innumerable have been the difficulties thou hast made me struggle with. But one day thou mayest wish, that thou hadst spared this boast; as well as those other pretty haughtinesses, ‘That thou didst not reject Solmes for my sake: that my glory, if I valued myself upon carrying thee off, was thy shame: that I have more merit with myself than with thee, or any body else: [what a coxcomb she makes me, Jack!] that thou wishest thyself in thy father’s house again, whatever were to be the consequence.’—If I forgive thee, charmer, for these hints, for these reflections, for these wishes, for these contempts, I am not the Lovelace I have been reputed to be; and that thy treatment of me shews that thou thinkest I am.
In short, her whole air throughout this debate expressed a majestic kind of indignation, which implied a believed superiority of talents over the person to whom she spoke.

7 thoughts on “Richardson as Editor (L103)

  1. Meghan Hancock

    This is the first time I remember seeing a narrative voice (shown in bold) both categorizing and describing the context surrounding certain passages in a letter. So far in the novel, it seems like the only narrative "asides" like this have been to refer the reader to other letters…this is doing something different. What do you make of this? Does it influence the way you interpret Lovelace's account? Does having this context change anything, and if not, why is it there? One more thing to think about: Is this supposed to be Richardson talking?

  2. Kendra

    I think the narrative voice is interesting because it does cause a sort of disruption in the narrative as if to remind reader's that this is a story. It doesn't influence the way I interpret Lovelace's account but it makes me curious about Lovelace's letter was cut for "repetition." When both Lovelace and Clarissa runaway, we are given two different perspectives of the same account. Lovelace describes the running away in a much more romantic light whereas Clarissa's version is much more hurried and confused. The new narrative voice seems much more like a plot device of sorts, it claims "to avoid repetition" by not including Lovelace's perspective letter about their journey. So this moves the story along but it also denies us the opportunity to see Lovelace's romantic version of their adventures to the inn. I can only assume this new narrative voice is Richardson himself or, as in most epistolary novels, the person who found and collected the letters together to present to the readers.

  3. Debra

    The novel clearly contains a (mainly) silent editor. Someone has assembled the letters, numbered them, put them in volumes. This editor has described rather than transcribed some letters, e.g., Letters 139 and 140 between Lovelace and Joseph Lehman, and he has put in the references to other letters at the bottom of the page, directing us backward or forward to what we need to know. This editor (unlike the author Richardson) exists within the fictional world of the text. So we have RIchardson to fictional editor to letter-writer: at least 3 levels of mediation.

  4. anthony o'keeffe

    Not to mention how amusing it is that this "editor"–unlike Richardson himself–acts to save us from the repetitiousness that has, so far, so relentlessly characterized the novel. How pleasant to witness the birth of Sparknotes!

  5. Steve

    Yes but are we supposed to worry about this editor's interests? Believe me, I'm grateful for any repetitions I don't have to read, but it also seems weird to have so much redacted; and as Tony points out, there are plenty of other places in the novel where we slog through a lot of repetition. Why these particular places and why this particular device?

  6. Meghan Hancock

    I'd never thought about it as 3 levels before! I always assumed there were just two (Richardson and letter-writer). It'll be interesting to follow what else the fictional editor does.

  7. Meghan Hancock

    That's what I'm wondering, Stephen. It was kind of jolting when I was first presented with this letter because it felt so new. What are we losing in the editor making these cuts? Obviously there's no way to know, but I agree that it's strange that the editor waited so long to do something like this (and to make such an editing process so transparent for the reader).

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