oulfis: A teacup next to a plate of scones with clotted cream and preserves. (Default)

I've been reading a lot, but not finishing a lot -- usually it doesn't bother me too much to have a bunch of things on the go at once, but 26 at a time is... high, even for me. Today I finished a really good edited volume about Charlotte Smith (and finished writing my lit review about her!), and I was so excited to update my reading challenge but it doesn't even count for even one of my prompts! Alas.

The book was super good though. Here are some of the quotes I typed up that might be interesting in a broader context:

"In 1913, Saintsbury believed Smith was ‘something of a person in herself, but less of a figure in history, because she neither innovates nor does old things consummately.’ Even the first extensive study of Smith by Florence Hilbish [in 1941], whilst highlighting many areas of innovation, arrived at the conclusion that she produced ‘little strikingly original’ material … the twentieth century was not yet ready to truly appreciate Charlotte Smith. This is evident in Ernest Bernbaum’s indifferent review of Hilbish’s work, which concluded that ‘much time and care have been devoted to it; whether deservedly, is perhaps questionable.’” (Duckling 216-7)

“To hear Charlotte Smith talk about her writing, you would think she was a drudge or even a hack, ‘compelled,’ as she now famously put it, ‘to live only to write & write only to live’ … Except that she is continually ordering or borrowing books… she seems to have her nose to a grindstone and her eyes shut to all literary value. … one suddenly discovers someone who is reading every principal piece of literature available and commenting sharply on the success or lack thereof of many contemporary productions.” (Curran 175)

“In English she returns again and again to Shakespeare, Milton, Pope, Thomson, Gray, Collins, Goldsmith, Sterne, and, her favourite contemporary poet, William Cowper. Among French writers her taste is highly eclectic, though she returns often to La Rouchefoucauld, Rousseau, and, especially, Voltaire… Her Italian favourites are Petrarch’s sonnets and Mestasio’s operatic arias… She knows no German, but is keenly aware of the distinctive place occupied by Goethe’s Werther in the literature of sensibility. There is one other literature in which she is not only proficient but, for a woman author, surprisingly forthcoming: Latin. She certainly admires Cicero, Horace, and Ovid, but she reserves a special place for Virgil.” (Curran 176)

Very few Smith scholars work actively on both the novels and the poetry, and consequently we have been learning about two separate Smiths, each closely linked to the genre she writes in, neither closely linked to the other. Because the novel during the Romantic period is undergoing an extraordinary amount of change and innovation, as it moves closer to its modern form, editors of the novels (myself included) tend to focus on Smith’s techniques and innovations, her use of tropes and themes, her facility with genres and description. Conversely, because Romantic poetry in the Smithian tradition is so closely tied up with explorations of selfhood and subjectivity, memory and a personalized past, editors of the poetry tend to present it as reflective of a personalized state of mind, of ‘woman’s’ experience, treating its manifold themes and narratives as, finally, reducible to and manifested from Smith’s life. Is it all to do with inherent qualities of genre, or is it more to do with the expectations we as readers bring to different genres? Genre, it seems, carries a greater force in constructing our preconceptions of identity than has been recognized, and Smith is a case in point, a case we can crack by studying closely Smith’s style and techniques across genres.” (Labbe 5)

oulfis: A teacup next to a plate of scones with clotted cream and preserves. (Default)
I've been reading Tobias Smollett's 1748 book The Adventures of Roderick Random, and was really surprised to find, buried in chapter 51 as yet another mildly amusing mishap as the protagonist Rory fails repeatedly to make his fortune, an explicitly gay Earl whose attempts to seduce Rory are presented as annoying but not disgusting.

a slightly abridged ch 51 under the cut, with the extra-gay bits bolded )

The whole thing is kind of a wild ride! There are two aspects that particularly interest me:

1. Rory and Banter both seem to be much more upset about Earl Strutwell's false claims to wealth and influence than they are about his queerness. Gay sex seems both a known phenomenon and relatively unthreatening. Even when Rory thinks that Strutwell is worried that Rory has gone gay due to exposure to the continent, I get the feeling that Rory gives his anti-gay tirade mostly in order to please his patron, rather than due to sincere feeling. After all, we hear much more of Earl Strutwell's defense of gay sex than we do Rory's rejection of it! And Rory doesn't reject it in his own words, but rather recites a stock satire.

2. In the middle of all this, Rory flies home to his childhood friend Hugh Strap, with whom he shares lodging, finances, life schemes, and often a bed, and feels absolutely no need to reflect on or justify the love that the two of them frequently confess for each other. In retrospect he's able to see something kind of gay about Earl Strutwell's hand-squeezing, but this doesn't make him suspicious of physical or emotional intimacy with men in general.

I don't have any conclusions yet, except that this is way more chill about gay sex than anything I expected to read from 1748!

Style Credit

Page generated Jun. 15th, 2025 10:59 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios