In Volume VIII, Clarissa’s body grows weaker and she gradually loses the ability to write by hand. Her letters taper off, which led us to think more about Clarissa’s physical attachment to writing. Several of us noticed how the act of writing—whether and how much it happens—depends on other forces at the end of Clarissa’s life, particularly physical ability. In response to Letter 405, Megan commented that we see Clarissa’s “writerly self break down as her body does.” Because writing is central to Clarissa’s identity, we recognized that she stops only because she is physically unable to write. Tony added to this sentiment by suggesting the power of “theological/eschatological realities” on Clarissa’s ability to write. We realized how central the act of writing is to Clarissa’s identity, but by Volume VIII understood that she has weakened. Writing is replaced by other means for narrating the end of her life.

We pointed out another aspect of Clarissa’s diminishing letters. As an author, Richardson signals the end of Clarissa’s life by privileging the stories that people tell about Clarissa. Later, we learn that Clarissa has actually written her will as well as several letters to families and friends. This surprise reflects her now silent but relentless pursuit of autonomy, which is manifested primarily in writing.