I can
write no more now. I have hardly time to
breathe – only just this, the houses and streets are not quite so superb as I
expected. However, I have seen nothing
yet, so I ought not to judge.’
(from
Letter X)
Evelina or The
History a Young Lady’s Entrance Into the World
Frances (Fanny) Burney1778
A mother abandoned by her husband; a paternity
dispute; a child brought up by a foster carer; a quest for identity as the child
becomes a young woman; her struggle to assert her own worth amidst a crowd of
embarrassing relatives. All sounds like
it could be from a modern-day TV drama, doesn’t it? In fact, all these elements combine within
Frances Burney’s first (and in my opinion best) novel Evelina, or The History of a Young Lady’s Entrance Into the World.
One of Hugh Thomson's superb illustrations from a 1903 publication of the novel. |
Written in the form of an exchange of letters
(technically known as an epistolary novel), there is an immediacy to the story
that simply leaps off the page. The
quotation I have included for today’s header is a good example of this: the
events of the story are not simply narrated to the reader. Rather, we get to live the events with the
heroine, the Evelina of the title (the technical term for this is the eponymous
heroine; a useful word with which to dazzle people at parties and pub
quizzes). It’s a bit like having an
eighteenth-century pen-pal. Evelina is
an extremely easy person with whom to empathise: keen for adventure, longing
to sample life in the big city, yet inexperienced and thus often getting things
a little bit wrong. Kind, intelligent,
sensitive, and always trying to do the right thing, she is continually caught
up in the ludicrous, pretentious, and sometimes downright dangerous behaviour
of relatives whom it is socially impossible for her to avoid; it is perhaps
this more than anything else that sweeps you up into the story, making you
cheer for her every success, and wince with her at every unintentional faux
pas.
Characters’ reactions may occasionally seem a
little overblown (there is one point later on in the book where there is a lot
of bursting into tears and dropping onto knees in a context that, perhaps
surprisingly, has absolutely nothing to do with marriage proposals). The only thing I can say about this is just to
remember that the book was written at a time when sentimentality was a highly
prized attribute. If Evelina seems a
little susceptible to what might today seem rather theatrical displays of
emotion in one or two places, it is only eighteenth-century code for her
general worth as a character.
One of the most vibrant and engaging of
eighteenth-century novels, this is a book that deserves to be savoured and
enjoyed. It is the story of a young
woman’s entrance into the world, into life, into love, and it is the story of
her quest for a sense of identity and of belonging.
You can
find this book:
(this is a free edition of the text, and thus a quick, economical way of reading it! A word of caution though: readers unfamiliar with some eighteenth-century words and phrases might enjoy enhanced reading pleasure by obtaining an edition of the text that has helpful annotations to explain unusual or archaic terms)
(Oxford World Classics edition! I am slightly biased in recommending this, as it is the edition that I first read the novel from in my early teens. It is full of really useful explanatory notes and so is a great way to read this story. As this book frequently occurs on students’ reading lists, there is a plentiful supply of economically priced second-hand copies continually available from reputable second-hand dealers.)
(Penguin Classics edition! This does have a snazzy cover, but I can’t
see anything online about whether it has any explanatory notes. Worth checking before purchase: I cannot
overstate the importance of a healthy scattering of notes when first approaching
a text like this!)
About the
Author:
France Burney, painted by her cousin Edward Francesco Burney. This is the most popular, and frequently reproduced, portrait of Burney. This image was, er, 'borrowed' from Wikipedia. |
Frances (Fanny) Burney had a long and enormously
fascinating life; indeed, to try and condense this into one neat paragraph has
been one of the greatest challenges of this blogpost. The daughter of the musician Charles Burney,
Frances was a personal friend of countless major eighteenth-century figures, including
the actor David Garrick and Dr Samuel Johnson (the author of the subject of a
previous blogpost, ‘The Vanity of Human Wishes’). Later, in 1786, she became the second keeper
of the robes to Queen Charlotte, a post which she greatly disliked and which she
was very glad to leave in 1791. In 1793
(aged 41) Frances married Alexandre-Jean-Baptiste Piochard D’Arblay, a French émigré
who had escaped to Britain in the wake of the French Revolution; they had one
son, who died in 1837. When Frances
Burney died in 1840, she left behind a copious wealth of literary material,
including an extensive collection of letters exchanged with some of the most
prominent figures of the eighteenth-century, and also four major published
novels, of which Evelina is the
first.
You can
find out more about Frances Burney:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frances_Burney(Wikipedia!!)
(Encyclopædia Britannica: kind of like a more sophisticated version of Wikipedia. Do try and follow up the little blue links to other eighteenth-century figures, such as the wonderful David Garrick: it can lead you round an absorbing who’s who of eighteenth-century society)
(this is an engaging radio programme aired this year; I don’t want to sound like I’m namedropping or anything, but I have actually been fortunate enough to make acquaintance with two of the guests on the programme, Dr Nicole Pohl and Prof. Judith Hawley, and was impressed by their friendliness, enthusiasm and kind encouragement! If you have a spare forty minutes, this programme is definitely worth a listen!)
(Claire Harman’s Fanny Burney: A biography.
Apologies for only giving a link to this on Amazon: it is available at
numerous other retailers, including independent bookstores!)
Information
for this blogpost was taken from the following resource:
Pat Rogers, ‘Burney, Frances (1752-1840)’, Oxford Dictionary of National Biography,
Oxford University Press, 2004; online edn, May 2015 http://www.oxforddnb.com/view/article/603
[accessed 9 July 2015]
(unfortunately, access to this resource is by
subscription only)
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