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Clarissa Harlowe; or the history of a young lady #9
Clarissa Harlowe; or, The History of a Young Lady - Volume 9
The tragic story of a heroine whose quest for virtue is continually thwarted by her family.
304 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 1748
5 people are currently reading
70 people want to read
About the author
Samuel Richardson
1,679 books211 followers
Pamela
(1740) and
Clarissa Harlowe
(1748) of English writer Samuel Richardson helped to legitimize the novel as a literary form in English.
An established printer and publisher for most of his life, Richardson wrote his first novel at the age of 51. He is best known for his major 18th-century epistolary novel Sir Charles Grandison (1753).
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Samuel_...
An established printer and publisher for most of his life, Richardson wrote his first novel at the age of 51. He is best known for his major 18th-century epistolary novel Sir Charles Grandison (1753).
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Samuel_...
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December 22, 2013Final Update. Spoilers.
Well, do you want to know what happens in the end? Lovelace fights a duel with Clarissa’s cousin. And, much to his surprise, he loses. And then dies. His last words are “Happy now??” or something to that effect. His friend Belford gets religion, Anna Howe gets married, and Clarissa’s family, including her shitty uncles, stay miserable until they die.
This one will stay with me, but not for the reasons I expected it would. Richardson’s massive novel was intended to be instructional. He wanted to show me (or rather my 18th century counterparts) how to act and be, and although I knew I wouldn’t relate to Clarissa’s exact situation, I did expect the novel to contain a little more ‘news you can use.’ But in addition to the many Questionable Lessons and a few nice observations about humanity in general, here are my main takeaways. I doubt they are what Richardson had in mind.
1.A woman should never leave her house, or even step into the backyard, without cab fare.
2.Always bolt your door at night. Go ahead and prop a chair up against it, too.
3.That person you’re talking to might be an imposter, paid by someone who is trying to rape you. Ask to see ID.
4.When you’re a writer and you also print your own stuff, you’re likely to run a little long.
I suppose some of Richardson’s finer points are evergreen. I was frequently called to ponder the question of whether ‘every woman is a rake in her heart.’ (Yes, of course we are, duh.) You could argue that Clarissa’s protestations against revenge killing Lovelace (‘If God will allow him time for repentance, why should you deny it him?’) apply to our modern death penalty debate. Both men and women were pretty equally terrified of marriage in this story, and some of their concerns are still heard today…especially Lovelace’s. [1]
But Richardson certainly fails in his attempt to scare me away from vice and lead me towards the example set by virtuous Clarissa. I can admire Clarissa’s fortitude and not much else – and because, despite various critical interpretations of her death as being necessary to subvert the male power structure or whatever, it’s clear Clarissa could have saved her life with a sandwich, even her fortitude lets me down in the end.
Richardson was interested in what happens when a paragon of purity and right-thinking, through no fault of her own, is deprived of her ‘virtue.’ If I am interested in that question, (and I’m not sure I am), my interest is in the potential for girl-power plot twists, and not in Richardson's moralizing. I’m also not riveted by whether, after the rape, she’s able to ‘take control of the narrative’ or resist others’ interpretations of her, or whatever else the modern scholars have come up with. Some of these writing-for-tenure ideas are fun, but they cannot provide the heat I’d get from actually caring about the plot. [2]
No matter. Richardson’s characters do the heavy lifting that his plot and his sermonizing can’t. They’re so good that they save him from himself. I’ve talked about my love for Anna Howe, but I’m actually quite fond of all of his characters. Even Clarissa’s mean sister. Even Lovelace.
Critics have referred to the ‘divided’ nature of Clarissa, in that Richardson is writing in support of a societal power structure, while at the same time he shows us how destructive that framework can be. In other words, women should all behave like Clarissa – but, whoops, look at all the bad stuff that happens to our role model. I would argue that Richardson’s ‘divisions’ go even further than that. The novel’s real characters, the ones who run away with the story, subvert Richardson’s moral pedantry. There’s no better example of this than Lovelace. Despite his bad actions and his refusal to reform, Lovelace won the hearts of so many readers that Richardson had to insert extra material in his third edition to make his villain less sympathetic.
The quibbles, the contradictions, the minor debates – in its length and its richness, this novel is like several years-worth of a good television show. There’s plenty to chew on. Personally, I’m interested in the questions it raises about forgiveness. Can we ever repair our mistakes? On earth, if not in heaven? Clarissa makes much of having ample time to repent before she dies, but that ponderous bore never sinned. (I know: I was there the whole time.) The rest of us do sin, though –- including every other character in this novel. It’s been noted that hard-heartedness is the most common –- and commonly lamented –- crime in this book, but when Richardson goes to dole out rewards and punishments, he can be as ‘implacable’ as his worst villain. (That’d be Clarissa’s brother, if you were curious.)[3] Most of his characters receive little grace from each other, and it’s unclear if they’ll get any from God. What does it take to be forgiven? And will I ever forgive Richardson for hooking me with his imaginary friends and then, when he had me in his clutches, boring and nagging me half to death? Maybe I’ll read it one more time and decide.
***
[1.] “Such a one as I, Jack, needed only, till now, to shake the stateliest tree, and the mellowed fruit dropped into my mouth.” (That’s right: I’m footnoting this motherfucker.)
[2] Although next time I do something like this, I need to just spoil the ending for myself and read the critical stuff alongside the text. Reading it afterwards is like eating a spoonful of salt and pepper after you’ve finished your meal.
[3] The major characters tend to escape some of what they have coming for them, but the minor ones all race a reckoning at the end. Here’s what happens to two of the prostitutes who helped Lovelace contain Clarissa. “Sally died of a fever and surfeit got by a debauch; and the other about a month after, by a violent cold, occasioned through carelessness in a salivation.” That sounds bad, right? I don’t know what that means but it sounds...problematic.
Update 12/18.
20,000 characters left in this, our new Goodreads home. That ought to be enough, right?
This update is gratuitous and I feel bad about it but I’m doing it anyway.
(Actually, that describes the entirety of my Clarissa project).
Excerpts from Essays I Read Last Night, Annotated, Primarily with Emoticons
Richardson’s most ardent and prolific reader, Dorothy Bradshaigh, wrote him letter after letter that described the experience of reading Clarissa in terms of the pain that it inflicted on her.
[And here I thought I was original.]
Once Lady Bradshaigh and Richardson met and dispelled the mystery of identity, the erotic elements in their correspondence that had seemed to thrive on intrigue found an added home in tokens: Richardson’s volumes and portraits of one another. Once again, Lady Bradshaigh used books as proxy for Richardson in order to tease him…Lady Bradshaigh wrote to Richardson in response to finding an edition of Pamela that Richardson had sent…”Upon opening the box, I felt a strange confused sort of blush…”
[This is actually pretty hot, in a lit crit sort of way.]
…one of Clarissa’s most notorious readers, the Marquis de Sade, praised “l’immortel Richardson”…
[OH MY GOD. Of course he did.]
By ruining Clarissa, the Harlowes…also try to dismantle and transmute one symbolic system, based on integrated forms that cannot be negotiated (ornaments), into another symbolic system, based on visible and tangible elements (graphic tokens) that can be exchanged and thus combined into new patterns of significance.
[If you can make me understand this I will draw you a picture of Richardson having dinner with the Marquis de Sade and I will drop it in the mail.]
All quotes from Clarissa’s Cruelty, by Jayne Elizabeth Lewis, or Lady Bradshaigh Reads and Writes Clarissa: the Marginal Notes in Her First Edition, by Janice Broder.
Well, do you want to know what happens in the end? Lovelace fights a duel with Clarissa’s cousin. And, much to his surprise, he loses. And then dies. His last words are “Happy now??” or something to that effect. His friend Belford gets religion, Anna Howe gets married, and Clarissa’s family, including her shitty uncles, stay miserable until they die.
This one will stay with me, but not for the reasons I expected it would. Richardson’s massive novel was intended to be instructional. He wanted to show me (or rather my 18th century counterparts) how to act and be, and although I knew I wouldn’t relate to Clarissa’s exact situation, I did expect the novel to contain a little more ‘news you can use.’ But in addition to the many Questionable Lessons and a few nice observations about humanity in general, here are my main takeaways. I doubt they are what Richardson had in mind.
1.A woman should never leave her house, or even step into the backyard, without cab fare.
2.Always bolt your door at night. Go ahead and prop a chair up against it, too.
3.That person you’re talking to might be an imposter, paid by someone who is trying to rape you. Ask to see ID.
4.When you’re a writer and you also print your own stuff, you’re likely to run a little long.
I suppose some of Richardson’s finer points are evergreen. I was frequently called to ponder the question of whether ‘every woman is a rake in her heart.’ (Yes, of course we are, duh.) You could argue that Clarissa’s protestations against revenge killing Lovelace (‘If God will allow him time for repentance, why should you deny it him?’) apply to our modern death penalty debate. Both men and women were pretty equally terrified of marriage in this story, and some of their concerns are still heard today…especially Lovelace’s. [1]
But Richardson certainly fails in his attempt to scare me away from vice and lead me towards the example set by virtuous Clarissa. I can admire Clarissa’s fortitude and not much else – and because, despite various critical interpretations of her death as being necessary to subvert the male power structure or whatever, it’s clear Clarissa could have saved her life with a sandwich, even her fortitude lets me down in the end.
Richardson was interested in what happens when a paragon of purity and right-thinking, through no fault of her own, is deprived of her ‘virtue.’ If I am interested in that question, (and I’m not sure I am), my interest is in the potential for girl-power plot twists, and not in Richardson's moralizing. I’m also not riveted by whether, after the rape, she’s able to ‘take control of the narrative’ or resist others’ interpretations of her, or whatever else the modern scholars have come up with. Some of these writing-for-tenure ideas are fun, but they cannot provide the heat I’d get from actually caring about the plot. [2]
No matter. Richardson’s characters do the heavy lifting that his plot and his sermonizing can’t. They’re so good that they save him from himself. I’ve talked about my love for Anna Howe, but I’m actually quite fond of all of his characters. Even Clarissa’s mean sister. Even Lovelace.
Critics have referred to the ‘divided’ nature of Clarissa, in that Richardson is writing in support of a societal power structure, while at the same time he shows us how destructive that framework can be. In other words, women should all behave like Clarissa – but, whoops, look at all the bad stuff that happens to our role model. I would argue that Richardson’s ‘divisions’ go even further than that. The novel’s real characters, the ones who run away with the story, subvert Richardson’s moral pedantry. There’s no better example of this than Lovelace. Despite his bad actions and his refusal to reform, Lovelace won the hearts of so many readers that Richardson had to insert extra material in his third edition to make his villain less sympathetic.
The quibbles, the contradictions, the minor debates – in its length and its richness, this novel is like several years-worth of a good television show. There’s plenty to chew on. Personally, I’m interested in the questions it raises about forgiveness. Can we ever repair our mistakes? On earth, if not in heaven? Clarissa makes much of having ample time to repent before she dies, but that ponderous bore never sinned. (I know: I was there the whole time.) The rest of us do sin, though –- including every other character in this novel. It’s been noted that hard-heartedness is the most common –- and commonly lamented –- crime in this book, but when Richardson goes to dole out rewards and punishments, he can be as ‘implacable’ as his worst villain. (That’d be Clarissa’s brother, if you were curious.)[3] Most of his characters receive little grace from each other, and it’s unclear if they’ll get any from God. What does it take to be forgiven? And will I ever forgive Richardson for hooking me with his imaginary friends and then, when he had me in his clutches, boring and nagging me half to death? Maybe I’ll read it one more time and decide.
***
[1.] “Such a one as I, Jack, needed only, till now, to shake the stateliest tree, and the mellowed fruit dropped into my mouth.” (That’s right: I’m footnoting this motherfucker.)
[2] Although next time I do something like this, I need to just spoil the ending for myself and read the critical stuff alongside the text. Reading it afterwards is like eating a spoonful of salt and pepper after you’ve finished your meal.
[3] The major characters tend to escape some of what they have coming for them, but the minor ones all race a reckoning at the end. Here’s what happens to two of the prostitutes who helped Lovelace contain Clarissa. “Sally died of a fever and surfeit got by a debauch; and the other about a month after, by a violent cold, occasioned through carelessness in a salivation.” That sounds bad, right? I don’t know what that means but it sounds...problematic.
Update 12/18.
20,000 characters left in this, our new Goodreads home. That ought to be enough, right?
This update is gratuitous and I feel bad about it but I’m doing it anyway.
(Actually, that describes the entirety of my Clarissa project).
Excerpts from Essays I Read Last Night, Annotated, Primarily with Emoticons
Richardson’s most ardent and prolific reader, Dorothy Bradshaigh, wrote him letter after letter that described the experience of reading Clarissa in terms of the pain that it inflicted on her.
[And here I thought I was original.]
Once Lady Bradshaigh and Richardson met and dispelled the mystery of identity, the erotic elements in their correspondence that had seemed to thrive on intrigue found an added home in tokens: Richardson’s volumes and portraits of one another. Once again, Lady Bradshaigh used books as proxy for Richardson in order to tease him…Lady Bradshaigh wrote to Richardson in response to finding an edition of Pamela that Richardson had sent…”Upon opening the box, I felt a strange confused sort of blush…”
[This is actually pretty hot, in a lit crit sort of way.]
…one of Clarissa’s most notorious readers, the Marquis de Sade, praised “l’immortel Richardson”…
[OH MY GOD. Of course he did.]
By ruining Clarissa, the Harlowes…also try to dismantle and transmute one symbolic system, based on integrated forms that cannot be negotiated (ornaments), into another symbolic system, based on visible and tangible elements (graphic tokens) that can be exchanged and thus combined into new patterns of significance.
[If you can make me understand this I will draw you a picture of Richardson having dinner with the Marquis de Sade and I will drop it in the mail.]
All quotes from Clarissa’s Cruelty, by Jayne Elizabeth Lewis, or Lady Bradshaigh Reads and Writes Clarissa: the Marginal Notes in Her First Edition, by Janice Broder.
July 7, 2020
Well, so the chapter is closed on Clarissa. What a long winded novel ! I doubt I will reread this anytime soon. Clarissa was tenacious and had not swayed in her actions and righteous indignation, what an impressive lady! She knew how to be independent and strong willed . In a time where women were told they had to marry and marry for status and money , she chose the path that she wanted . Was it all worth it in the end ? That is the operative question to which everyone’s response differs to some degree.
December 7, 2025
And the journey ends... with a postscript where the author complains about how readers were interrogating the text from the wrong perspective again. His footnotes along those lines had dropped off earlier, I was starting to miss them; he sure made up for it here. Samuel, you're making it very difficult for me to stick to my intention to rate this five stars, but I'll persevere.
October 16, 2013
Finished finally! In short - which is more than the books is - it's a well written book, I enjoyed the use of language and the characterisation but my, was it long winded! Lovelace is excellent as the wicked libertine and Clarissa is the epitome of female correctness. Preferred her slightly less perfect but probably more fun friend Miss Howe and thought all her family were rather pathetic but excellent portrayals of people of that time.
It did go on a bit, I think the moral could have come across just the same in a shorter version, as could the characters of all within, but it is a bit preachy, perhaps rightly so for that time but by the time I got to the end I really wasn't bothered about Christian values or morality, I was just relieved!!
If you are intending to read this epistle, be warned, it's a labour of love. I took it in nine volumes and nine months, I couldn't have read it in one but am glad I have read it after wanting to for so long - and if you have seen the dramatisation of it, don't be mistaken into thinking you know the story..you don't, there is far, far more to it.
And so, Clarissa, I bid you adieu...I don't think I'll be reading you again in a hurry!
It did go on a bit, I think the moral could have come across just the same in a shorter version, as could the characters of all within, but it is a bit preachy, perhaps rightly so for that time but by the time I got to the end I really wasn't bothered about Christian values or morality, I was just relieved!!
If you are intending to read this epistle, be warned, it's a labour of love. I took it in nine volumes and nine months, I couldn't have read it in one but am glad I have read it after wanting to for so long - and if you have seen the dramatisation of it, don't be mistaken into thinking you know the story..you don't, there is far, far more to it.
And so, Clarissa, I bid you adieu...I don't think I'll be reading you again in a hurry!
January 12, 2012
So, the overall message of Clarissa and the actual plot are pretty decent - unfortunately they get lost in the utterly unnecessary repetition and plodding pace. Here's the gist: You should live your life morally, or at the very least atone for your past behavior when you have seen the light.
If the entire novel had been written like the epilogue, it would have been a much easier (and shorter!) read. I will admit skipping the last 10% as it was comprised of the author's response to various arguments of how the plot could have resolved differently and why he didn't write it that way.
If you absolutely decide you MUST read this novel, I suggest you find an abridged version. I'm just glad to be done.
#40 from the 1001 list.
If the entire novel had been written like the epilogue, it would have been a much easier (and shorter!) read. I will admit skipping the last 10% as it was comprised of the author's response to various arguments of how the plot could have resolved differently and why he didn't write it that way.
If you absolutely decide you MUST read this novel, I suggest you find an abridged version. I'm just glad to be done.
#40 from the 1001 list.
July 3, 2024
This review has spoilers.
Well finally volume 9 is here and I can now write a review. First and foremost it is a very long novel. Some have commented that it was too long but I tend to disagree. Yes, there were chapters which might have been shortened but as in life, not everything happens all at once. We have to experience the despair that Clarissa feels, the slow realisation that everyone she loves has forsaken her (except Miss Howe), and the slow decline that ultimately leads to her death.
Mr. Lovelace is quite the evil character. One never really knows if he his really remorseful or is it all to get what he wants. This story being all told to us in letters between the characters never reveals what the people are thinking in their very souls. Clarissa seems genuine in her correspondence but Lovelace? I personally think that he is a narcissist because everything is about him, his wants and needs even when he learns that Clarissa is dying he cannot bring himself to admit his guilt in her death but blames her family.
My favorite character was Belford. I could relate with him quite a lot having had friends that were let's just say a lot like Lovelace. The fact that he recognizes his past life as being not very exemplary and is ready to change his ways makes him in my opinion a very likable person.
I highly recommend this novel to everyone. Yes it is a long one, but worth the read.
Next "1001 Books You Must Read Before You Die" novel "Tom Jones" by Henry Fielding (1749)
Well finally volume 9 is here and I can now write a review. First and foremost it is a very long novel. Some have commented that it was too long but I tend to disagree. Yes, there were chapters which might have been shortened but as in life, not everything happens all at once. We have to experience the despair that Clarissa feels, the slow realisation that everyone she loves has forsaken her (except Miss Howe), and the slow decline that ultimately leads to her death.
Mr. Lovelace is quite the evil character. One never really knows if he his really remorseful or is it all to get what he wants. This story being all told to us in letters between the characters never reveals what the people are thinking in their very souls. Clarissa seems genuine in her correspondence but Lovelace? I personally think that he is a narcissist because everything is about him, his wants and needs even when he learns that Clarissa is dying he cannot bring himself to admit his guilt in her death but blames her family.
My favorite character was Belford. I could relate with him quite a lot having had friends that were let's just say a lot like Lovelace. The fact that he recognizes his past life as being not very exemplary and is ready to change his ways makes him in my opinion a very likable person.
I highly recommend this novel to everyone. Yes it is a long one, but worth the read.
Next "1001 Books You Must Read Before You Die" novel "Tom Jones" by Henry Fielding (1749)
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
October 21, 2023
In college I proclaimed the 18th century my least favorite era of English literature. Then it turned out to be my favorite grad school professor’s area of expertise. Still, I vowed never to read another 18th century novel if I could help it (Tom Jones and Tristram Shandy were more than enough for me). But apparently 20 years is sufficient distance for me to give the era another shot.
A buddy read on Litsy gave me the push I needed this year to read this epistolary monster in mostly real time. And it was a delight to discuss (i.e. rant about) it each week. I wouldn’t have read this without the camaraderie of the group to keep me going, but the weekly chats also immeasurably increased my enjoyment of the book. It was fascinating to read for a greater understanding of the book’s influence on later writers, but also, I just really wanted to know how things turned out: to see the villains punished, and to find out the fate of all the characters. The voices of the different characters were so individual—it says a lot about Richardson’s skill as a writer, and his usage of the epistolary format, that I was able to picture each of the characters so distinctly, and that they all evoked such strong emotion! Never mind that the emotions evoked often consisted of rage and disgust. 😂 Lovelace and Clarissa’s family were infuriating, best friend Anna was given some surprisingly feminist opinions, and Richardson’s pompous response to his critics in the postscript was… telling. Ultimately I’m glad I read it, and not just for the bragging rights. Although I do want to know where I can buy my t-shirt…
A buddy read on Litsy gave me the push I needed this year to read this epistolary monster in mostly real time. And it was a delight to discuss (i.e. rant about) it each week. I wouldn’t have read this without the camaraderie of the group to keep me going, but the weekly chats also immeasurably increased my enjoyment of the book. It was fascinating to read for a greater understanding of the book’s influence on later writers, but also, I just really wanted to know how things turned out: to see the villains punished, and to find out the fate of all the characters. The voices of the different characters were so individual—it says a lot about Richardson’s skill as a writer, and his usage of the epistolary format, that I was able to picture each of the characters so distinctly, and that they all evoked such strong emotion! Never mind that the emotions evoked often consisted of rage and disgust. 😂 Lovelace and Clarissa’s family were infuriating, best friend Anna was given some surprisingly feminist opinions, and Richardson’s pompous response to his critics in the postscript was… telling. Ultimately I’m glad I read it, and not just for the bragging rights. Although I do want to know where I can buy my t-shirt…
December 20, 2023
Well, I'm glad I read it, but I doubt I would ever re-read the full version ever again.
December 14, 2024
Clarissa finally dies (took her some time), her family bitches around, people die or live miserably.
The only happy end is for Clarissa's friend Anna, who gets married.
The only happy end is for Clarissa's friend Anna, who gets married.
August 9, 2013
I finally gave up and just read the synapses of the last few volumes of this book. I'm glad I did. I didn't really like how it ended. The good news is that Lovelace and her family both ended up miserable, but I can promise you not nearly miserable enough! I'm glad these books had the synapses of the letters in the front. There are a few other books I've read recently that I wish had had this option as well! I guess the people back then didn't have anything better to do than to read hours and hours of books where nothing happens. I was really surprised at how bad Lovelace was, though. I've never read a book from this time period that actually mentions rape. I guess there has always been evil in the world and always will be. I'm glad Clarissa didn't succumb to it however.
April 24, 2016
the invisible hand of Richardson's great novel is all over the history of the European novel, if people but knew. don't be put off by its length, it's immensely readable.
April 27, 2017
It's hard to express the feeling of satisfaction I feel at finishing this novel - all 9 volumes of it. There were times near the middle where I didn't think I would make it through, but I'm happy I did.
It has some incredibly redeeming moments, but I have to admit that I would caution anyone against embarking on volume 1 knowing what I know now. The epistolary format, length and pace really make it very difficult to appreciate at times, despite some beautiful writing.
It's interesting to read at the end of the work that these types of objections were also raised at the time of release, and that the author felt compelled to defend against them. At the very least, this suggests to me that it is an issue particular to his personal style, rather than to the epoch.
Sadly this last volume felt like it was one of the most egregious in terms of dragging out the story.
It has some incredibly redeeming moments, but I have to admit that I would caution anyone against embarking on volume 1 knowing what I know now. The epistolary format, length and pace really make it very difficult to appreciate at times, despite some beautiful writing.
It's interesting to read at the end of the work that these types of objections were also raised at the time of release, and that the author felt compelled to defend against them. At the very least, this suggests to me that it is an issue particular to his personal style, rather than to the epoch.
Sadly this last volume felt like it was one of the most egregious in terms of dragging out the story.
Displaying 1 - 12 of 12 reviews