Monday, February 19, 2007

Pamela, or writing in letters

First of all, I'd like to state (for the record) that I enjoyed reading "Pamela." Dr. Howe warned us about the language, but I have to say that I was pleasantly surprised. I did not have to resort to an audiobook to delve into this novel, but I do believe that the experience of using one with Defoe helped in the comprehension of Pamela.

Richardson's technique of writing with letters is very effective for me. I could be biased towards this technique; one of my favorite short stories is Stephen King's "Jerusalem's Lot" in Night Shift. In this semi-preface to the novel "Salem's Lot," King tells his story through letters and diary entries. I struggled with the technique when King used it, and found it very disjointed. However, as I read the short story more, and got used to the style, I respected the technique and came to enjoy it. Richardson, like King, uses personal letters as a way to add subtle nuances and emotion to the story. Like Defoe, Richardson is using a first person narrative, but in a highly stylized way.

With Defoe, even though "Journal" was portrayed as an actual journal/diary, I could never believe in it's authenticity. I know we aren't supposed to read for plot or "lose ourselves" in the work, but I believe that the inability of a reader to believe in it's proclaimed form is a failure of on the part of the author. I enjoyed Defoe (after much complaining!), but I was never able to accept it for it's intended form: an ongoing journal occuring at the time the event actually happened.

Richardson, on the other hand, seems to be more comfortable with his medium. Pamela's letters actually seem to be written by a young, confused girl. Her parents replies, as well, seem to come from concerned parents. The letters clearly shift in tone, leading the reader to clearly differentiate between the "narrators." As a reader of "Pamela," I feel like an outsider looking in, a sort of voyeur. With that voyeuristic feeling, there's a sort of dirty/train wreck feeling, where you can't look away, but you feel that you really should. I didn't get that with Defoe; his style was too journalistic. While both books give the reader an "in" to the narrator's state of mind, Defoe gives you the facts, but Richardson gives you the emotion. I hope that makes sense!

I'm really excited to discuss this work in class, especially the idea of an untrustworthy narrator. I'd love to hear what everyone thinks about the fact that Pamela is writing to her parents, and the idea of different masks we wear. Specifically, is Pamela telling her parents the whole truth? Is there a "truth" that we aren't getting in these letters? Is Pamela trustworth? Why or why not? I bring up a lot of these questions before class mainly because I won't be able to discuss them as well as I'd like to in class. I had mouth surgery on Friday, so please forgive the Jay Leno chin swelling, the lack of clear enunciation, and the fogginess that comes from pain killers...

Also, if anyone knows how to make text bold or in italics using a Mac with Safari as my browser, please let me know!

1 comment:

thowe said...

Heh! Excellent post, Liana! And it is important to know that I do think we should read for plot--it's just that we should be critical/analytical about it, rather than purely evaluative, largely because evaluating must always occur in some way with respect to our own cultures. And the texts we're reading aren't from our own cultures. That's the only problem with reading purely for evaluative purposes; reading for plot is a whole other ball game!

At any rate, I wanted to reply to a couple of really interesting points Liana made--first, her point about Richardson's ability to, through the form of his text, stimulate emotion; and second, her point about the "voyeuristic" quality of Richardson's prose. These are both excellent points--and we can really see the difference in privileged goal between Defoe and Richardson.

As Watt says repeatedly, Defoe's style is much more journalistic, emphasizing the acts of observing and recording--almost in a disembodied way. Richardson, while he is also very interested in creating a full world through the use of detail, seems to be more inwardly directed. In Defoe, the world is the world outside, though we may be a part of it; in Richardson, the world is the world inside, though we may also be deeply embedded within a real social, cultural, and economic environment. It's important to note the similarities here as well as the differences--and Liana's language helps us on that point (though both Defoe and Richardson write in a "highly stylized way"!).

Second, Liana's point--echoed in others' posts, too--about the voyeuristic quality of Richardson's epistolary fiction is intriguing. It's not purely a function of the bare form, as other 18th century epistolary fictions (I'm thinking of Smollett in particular) feel much less intimate. I think Richardson is really doing some odd things with gender, sexuality, and power within his deployment of the epistolary form. That is, contemporary readers--and perhaps readers today--would have found something similarly provocative in Pamela, in the act of reading Pamela, and in the act of seeing inside Pamela's head. We'll see some of this come out in Fielding's Shamela, when he accuses readers of Richardson's text to be, essentially, dirty old men. Madeleine Kahn has a wonderful monograph called Narrative Transvestism, which is all about the curious tendency, in the 18th century, for male authors to pen female first person narratives about love, sex, and marriage. I'm interested in hearing what the rest of you have to say about the potential prurience of the Pamela reading experience? What purpose do you think this serves? If Defoe offered us a fantasy of objectivity, what kind of fantasy might Richardson be offering us?