But indeed, I have seen ladies, of whom I have had a better opinion than I can say I have of Mrs Sinclair, who have allowed gentlemen and themselves too, in greater liberties of this sort, than I have thought consistent with that purity of manners which out to be the distinguishing characteristic of our sex: for what are words but the body and dress of thought? And is not the mind indicted strongly by its outward dress? . . .
It must, indeed, be confessed, that there is, in his whole deportment, a natural dignity, which renders all insolent or imperative demeanour as unnecessary as inexcusable. Then that deceiving sweetness which appears in his smiles, in his accent, in his whole aspect, and address, when he thinks it worth his while to oblige, or endeavour to attract, how does this show that he was born innocent, as I may say; that he was not naturally the cruel, the boisterous, the impetuous creature, which the wicked company he may have fallen into have made him! For he has, besides, as open, and, I think, an honest countenance. Don’t you think so, my dear? On all these specious appearances, have I founded my hopes of seeing him a reformed man.
But it is amazing to me, I own, that with so much of the gentleman, such a general knowledge of books and men, such a skill in the learned as well as modern languages, he can take so much delight as he does in the company of such persons as I have described, and in subjects of frothy impertinence, unworthy of his talents, and his natural and acquired advantages. I can think but of one reason for it, and that must argue a very low mind,—his vanity; which makes him desirous of being considered as the head of the people he consorts with.—A man to love praise, yet to be content to draw it from such contaminated springs!
One compliment passed from Mr. Belford to Mr. Lovelace, which hastened my quitting the shocking company—’You are a happy man, Mr. Lovelace,’ said he, upon some fine speeches made him by Mrs. Sinclair, and assented to by Miss Partington:—’You have so much courage, and so much wit, that neither man nor woman can stand before you.’
Mr. Belford looked at me when he spoke: yes, my dear, he smilingly looked at me; and he looked upon his complimented friend; and all their assenting, and therefore affronting eyes, both men’s and women’s, were turned upon your Clarissa; at least, my self-reproaching heart made me think so; for that would hardly permit my eye to look up.
Here we have another incident in which Clarissa meets and observes new characters — Lovelace's friends. I have noted these moments where Clarissa is introduced to these individuals in the volume because I am interested in Clarissa's role as an observer and how she makes meaning of her new circumstances.Also, in this particular letter, we see Clarissa delineate the qualities of each man — Mr. Belton, Mr. Mowbray, Mr. Tourville, and Mr. Belford — but then at the end of this excerpt I've included here, we see the attention shift to Clarissa. The observer becomes the observed, and she realizes it immediately. So, my questions are these: what can we make of Clarissa's role as the observer here and her opportunity to make meaning out of this situation? How do we think her feelings for Lovelace change based on her observation of these men? Do we see any opportunity for Clarissa to have at least some agency here (or a type of agency) in this scene?
Everything in Clarissa's life seems to be based upon appearances. She seems to be arguing with herself about Lovelace's true nature and claims that "the wicked company he may have fallen into have made him." Clarissa seems to be making excuses for Lovelace and there appears to be a glimmer of hope for him yet at the beginning of this letter. After all, if she can get him away from these friends, this "wicked company," she may yet change him into a better mind and person. But then we see how her thinking shifts as she notes that the company Lovelace keeps only serve to stroke his ego. She claims it is due to his low mind that "makes him desirous of being considered as the head of the people he consorts with." We as readers have seen how Lovelace revels in his power and wit being recognized by others, but for the first time Clarissa really gets to see and experience it firsthand.Readers see that Clarissa's role of observer confirms whatever they may have thought of Lovelace or redirects how they should think of Lovelace (as Dr. Journet noted that Richardson had to make Lovelace detestable because everyone liked him). Her feelings for Lovelace change because she is getting to see his true nature, piece by piece, and this is startling, maybe even unfathomable, to her. At first she thinks it is from the influence of his friends that he acts the way he does but then she sees that Lovelace takes pleasure in their exultation of him. Clarissa gets to have a sense of agency at the beginning because she is the one observing and the one that is clearly a "better person" than these people. But her agency is quickly taken away when she realizes that she is merely a specimen to examined, judged, and possibly mocked by Lovelace's cohorts.
I really like seeing Clarissa as an observer. This letter reminded me a lot of the one in volume II (I think) where she outlines all the information about her family.In this letter, we seem to be getting some confusion from Clarissa about the way that appearances and truth line up. Early in the letter, Clarissa asks, "for what are words but the body and dress of thought? And is not the mind indicated strongly by its outward dress?" (L161). Clarissa really wants to believe that appearances are not deceiving, that she can believe in the truth of what is shown to her. But she is clearly having a hard time with it. She continues to rely on verbs like "appear" and "seem" to discuss all the people she meets. She is very carefully choosing her verbs as she tries to work out if people's appearances show who they truly are on the inside. I particularly liked that quote because of its discussion of both words and appearances. In addition to interrogating the men and women she meets at Mrs. Sinclair's house, she is trying to figure out how Lovelace's words from his letters and his appearance now line up and form the truth of his self. Were the letters really him? Is her current impression of him in person really him? Or is it some amalgamation of the two?
I think Megan's quote from earlier in this letter is really important and have added it to the letter's excerpt. I think here of the relation Kvande outlines between body, self, words, and writing. Clarissa's faith in appearances, as Megan suggests, rests on a fundamental belief in a kind of ontological stability. Mind is indicated in its "outward dress" (not just beauty but modesty and deportment) and words are the dress of body and thought. Hence Clarissa sinks her anchor in the stable relation between body, mind, thought, and language.
Yes, but one wonders how she can hold on to the idea of a relationship between words and mind, given her belief in that kind of stability. In other words, she's clearly demonstrated at this point that she's aware that words are "dress" and like "dress" can be changed depending on how one would like to appear. I think there's some dissonance here in her continued connection of words as expressing some kind of "true" self and her growing understanding that words can be used to make things "appear" what they are not.
I really liked Kendra's point that “[w]e as readers have seen how Lovelace revels in his power and wit being recognized by others, but for the first time Clarissa really gets to see and experience it firsthand.” Watching Clarissa observe Lovelace in his social element here reveals things to her about his character that only we as readers have seen thus far. Clarissa is just beginning to be clued into his true nature.
And Clarissa's observation certainly serves as a catalyst for her skepticism and confusion “about the way that appearances and truth line up,” as Megan suggests. The quote that Megan, Debra, and Steve address here certainly adds a useful layer to this discussion and invites us to see Clarissa interrogate her previous faith in Lovelace and try to stabilize the relationship “between body, mind, thought, and language,” as Debra noted in her response.