Reading It Wrong: An Alternative History of Early Eighteenth-Century Literature

by Abigail Williams

How eighteenth-century literature depended on misinterpretation—and how this still shapes the way we read

Reading It Wrong is a new history of eighteenth-century English literature that explores what has been everywhere evident but rarely talked the misunderstanding, muddle and confusion of readers of the past when they first met the uniquely elusive writings of the period. Abigail Williams uses the marginal marks and jottings of these readers to show that flawed interpretation has its own history—and its own important role to play—in understanding how, why and what we read.

Focussing on the first half of the eighteenth century, the golden age of satire, Reading It Wrong tells how a combination of changing readerships and fantastically tricky literature created the perfect grounds for puzzlement and partial comprehension. Through the lens of a history of imperfect reading, we see that many of the period’s major works—by writers including Daniel Defoe, Eliza Haywood, Mary Wortley Montagu, Alexander Pope and Jonathan Swift—both generated and depended upon widespread misreading. Being foxed by a satire, coded fiction or allegory was, like Wordle or the cryptic crossword, a form of entertainment, and perhaps a group sport. Rather than worrying that we don’t have all the answers, we should instead recognize the cultural importance of not knowing.

Genres: Nonfiction, Books About Books, History

328 pages, Hardcover

Published September 19, 2023

About the author

Abigail Williams is Lord White Fellow and Professor of Eighteenth-Century Studies at St. Peter’s College, University of Oxford.

Reviews

[Bibliomania · Rating 4 out of 5]

The truth is I picked up this book because I confused the 18th century with the 1800s. I’ve had a longstanding interest in the Victorian period, and as a reader I’m always fascinated with the act of reading. Upon realizing my mistake, my interest was piqued. It was time to learn about something much further out of my comfort zone. And thus I read Reading It Wrong by Abigail Williams.

While I do read a lot of non-fiction, it very firmly sits in the category of expository writing, not argumentative writing. Reading something argumentative is much more daunting as it requires much more of you as a reader. The level of engagement with the text is elevated, as you are no longer simply absorbing the information but actively interacting with it, thus centering you much more firmly in the reading process. Here the historical element serves as a means to explore what Williams wants to discuss, which is that misreading of satirical texts is a fundamental part of engaging with such tests, and the authors or events referenced purly serve as case studies to further Williams argument, not for the reader to learn about them, unlike the unusual non-fictions texts that I’m accustomed to reading (such as Left Bank).

This level of critical engagement brought up interesting questions, and a different understanding of the topics discussed. While I might not be able to give biographical information about figures such as Alexander Pope I do feel like I have gained insight into their works in a way that I otherwise wouldn’t have. Nonetheless, I do think having a historical understanding of the time period enhances the experience. I was hindered by my lack of historical context and thus limited only to the arguments given by the author and was unable to contrast the information being presented with that of other sources. I wish it had been about a time period that I had more knowledge of, as I feel like in this way I could have actively engaged with her arguments and come up with my own opinions.

One of the most interesting arguments to me was the discussion of the way in which people interact with and approach literature. Throughout Reading It Wrong, Williams seeks to deconstruct the archetype of the “Good Reader”, the idea that there is any one - much less many! - readers that can perfectly engage with a text and understand every reference, allusion and idea in the way the author intended. In fact she sets off to prove decisively that not only does this reader not exist, that the idea of this reader is rooted fundamentally in the way in which we interpret the relationship between power and culture. This supposed “good” reader in the 18th century is a highly educated, wealthy, white man, and he is the one who interacts and “gets” literature. Instead Williams shows that many people of many different backgrounds and social classes were actively engaging with the literature of the time period, all to varying degrees of success. One of the things I found most fascinating was that this idea of a good reader was present at that time too, with satirical works both catering to and making fun of those who could and couldn't understand their works. The idea of a “good” reader is one that still permeates the cultural discourse of what it means to be a reader, who gets to read and what counts as literature. This discourse continues to be rooted in structures of power and oppression that seek to keep the idea of the “reader” or the “intellectual” accessible to only a select few, reinforcing systems of power. I find it fascinating that we are having the same conversations that were being had in 18h century literary discourse, with very little having changed.

Through her conversations about “good” reading, Williams discusses the idea that lack of understanding does not mean lack of engagement with a text. The 18th century is the golden age of English satire, so this is at the forefront of the discussion around correct reading. Satire specifically seeks to confuse the reader and Williams argues that misunderstanding the text is a fundamental part of reading the text. She also works to point out that misunderstanding does not mean lack of enjoyment or engagement with a satirical text, in fact the process of misunderstanding can be fundamental to engaging with the text. Our obsession with being “good” readers clouds how we read historical texts because we feel like we need to live up to the archetype of the Good Reader, and thus miss a fundamental part of the reading experience. I think this is well exemplified when she mentions how it really aids comprehension of a wider text to understand the specific reference of a metaphor? Does this help us understand the metaphor better? Does this really improve our engagement with the arguments of a text? Is this so-called “right” reading and are we being “good” readers? And I think I agree with Williams that it might not.

As a reader and a reviewer for me the most interesting conversation was one that was had later in the book discussing who creates meaning, the author or the reader. This is a very interesting concept especially as Williams approached it through the lens of legality, looking at to what extent an author is legally liable for the interpretations of their satirical work. It was a concept I had never really given any thought to, but am now fascinated by. The tension between the author and the reader when creating meaning is fundamental to the reading experience, especially of works that hinges upon interpretation like satirical works. This idea extends to most fictional works that require you to read more than what is on the page to engage with the discussions being had by the author surrounding the themes of the work. The idea that the reader is just as important as the text in its interpretation and meaning is an idea that I would like to further explore. I think it is particularly interesting to explore this in a book about misreading as it exemplifies how our notions of reading and correctness, when it comes to interpretations of texts, are not as clear cut as we would like to believe.

Overall I was pleasantly surprised by Reading It Wrong, both as a vehicle to learn more about 18th century satire and an introduction to argumentative nonfiction texts. Reading is supposed to make you think, and Reading It Wrong did that for me. While the reading experience was quite demanding, as the text is quite academic, I am excited to pick up more argumentative books like this in the future and expand my horizons and heighten my own interactions with texts. I would definitely highly recommend it to any reader, as while focused on 18th century literature, William’s arguments felt more like a framework from which to explore how we interpret reading and misreading that is just as applicable today as it is to the 18th century.

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[William Acharyya · Rating 4 out of 5]

everyone discussed in this book sounds insufferable, however, the book itself is very interesting

[History Today]

In a radio sketch from John Finnemore’s Souvenir Programme, a secondary-school teacher diplomatically attempts to negotiate the dubious interpretations of Macbeth offered by his students: ‘That’s an interesting reading …That’s a really interesting answer’ – and, at the suggestion that both Macbeth and Lady Macbeth are being sarcastic in their discussion of killing Duncan: ‘Well, I could not be more interested in that answer.’ Only once the lesson switches to maths is the teacher finally free to speak his mind:

‘No that’s wrong, that’s the wrong answer, and I will tell you the right answer, which I know and you should learn! God that felt good!’

As Abigail Williams argues in her new study of early 18th-century literature, despite the ‘death of the author’ and the apparent multiplication of meanings offered by postmodern literary theory, practices of pedagogy still seek – however indirectly and Socratically, like Finnemore’s teacher – to be expert guides that lead readers to the ‘right answer’. In such a context, Williams’ dedication of this book to her students at St Peter’s College, Oxford might seem as double-edged as Alexander Pope’s dedication of The Rape of the Lock to Arabella Fermor (the model for his heroine ‘Belinda’).

The literature of this period, with its pages full of blanked-out names and dense webs of political and topical reference, can make it a particular challenge for students who don’t know their occasional conformists from their Patriot Whigs. Many modern editions assume an ideal 18th-century reader who would have readily picked up on all these references and attempt to replicate this knowledge base through extensive annotations: the Longman edition of Pope’s Dunciad, for example, often drowns a single line of text in a full page of explanatory notes (though the more baffling of these, as Williams explains, were originally supplied by Pope himself in a multi-layered parody of contemporary scholarship).

Read the rest of the review at HistoryToday.com.

Natasha Simonova is a writer and researcher of 18th-century literature based in London.