The Sylph, Letters 1-8
So, the first Salon for the reading group went up today, and I rather astonished myself with how much I ended up writing for my contribution to the discussion. I guess I shouldn't be so terrified of writing papers for school after all...
Anyway! I decided to x-post my mile long comment here, since I think I did a pretty good job...
After reading the first batch of correspondence presented to us in this narrative, there are many avenues for discussion one could choose to wander down, and the one that has most captured attention could perhaps best be summarized thus:
You can tell a lot about a man by what he reads!
More specifically, I believe Her Grace has given us some pretty strong clues as the nature of Sir William's character through the books and poetry he quotes (or misquotes, as the case may be). The very fact that his letters are peppered with literary references is a clear sign of his worldliness, but the content of his allusions leads one to the conclusion that he is a thoroughly dissipated individual, and most likely not to be trusted! Examples? Yes, let's. There are many to choose from, but following Polonius' example of making brevity the soul of wit, I will limit myself to addressing only three ;p
In Letter II Sir William paraphrases couplets from two contemporary poems. The first,
And days of peace do still succeed
To nights of calm repose
Refers to the poem 'A Prayer for Indifference' by Frances Greville, in which the the writer beseeches the fairy king Oberon to cast a spell over him that will render him indifferent to passionate attachments and the joys and pains of love. This piece concludes with the verse,
And what of life remains for me
I'll pass in sober ease;
Half pleased, contented will I be,
Content but half to please.
Which is a formula for a perfectly miserable, boring relationship, if ever I heard one.
Sir William's next quote,
And when I am weary of wandering all day,
To Thee, my delight, in the evening I come
Refers to an amazingly condescending poem by one Matthew Prior entitled 'A Better Answer', in which he endeavors to convince his lady that although he writes flirtatious poems to other women it's strictly business, and he really loves her best (we all know how that one goes...). The full verse runs,
So when I am weary'd with wand'ring all day,
To thee my delight in the evening I come:
No matter what beauties I saw in my way:
They were but my visits; but thou art my home.
Which one could otherwise read as 'Sure, I might have a fling here and there, but I'll always come back to you in the end!' This was obviously the norm for many a so-called 'gentleman' of the day, so it's hardly surprising that Sir William would sympathize with the poet, and indeed, the fact that he likes this piece and knows it well enough to drop a line into casual conversation (or a gossipy letter between friends) is telling.
As a side note I have to say in defense of Mr. Prior that despite my catty interpretation of its use in the context of The Sylph I actually rather like this poem. He makes a wry observation on the difference between Art and 'Real Life'~
What I speak, my fair Cloe, and what I write, shews
The diff'rence there is betwixt Nature and Art:
I court others in verse; but I love thee in prose:
And they have my whimsies; but thou hast my heart.
But! that is a digression completely off topic, so I will return to the matter at hand--
*Pauses to sip tea*
(This is where I broke the Blogger character limit for a comment, and had to start a second one)
*Finishes tea, continues*
The last reference I'd like to bring up is in Letter I, when Sir William is describing his tumble down the hill and subsequent meeting with the Grenville sisters, in which he flippantly quips,
"I sat therefore like Patience on a monument, and bore my misfortune with a stoical philosophy."
The quote 'like Patience on a monument' comes from Shakespeare's Twelfth Night (Act IV, Scene ii), in a scene in which the girl Viola (disguised as the boy Cesario) argues with Duke Orsino (with whom she is secretly besotted) that women, though they are less demonstrative, suffer far more from love than men do.
She sat like patience on a monument,
Smiling at grief. Was not this love indeed?
We men may say more, swear more: but indeed
Our shows are more than will; for still we prove
Much in our vows, but little in our love.
I think hinting at this passage is Georgiana's very sly way of telling us that Sir William is selfish and insincere, and that Julia of a certainty cannot be happy with him.
The last reference I'd like to bring up is in Letter I, when Sir William is describing his tumble down the hill and subsequent meeting with the Grenville sisters, in which he flippantly quips,
"I sat therefore like Patience on a monument, and bore my misfortune with a stoical philosophy."
The quote 'like Patience on a monument' comes from Shakespeare's Twelfth Night (Act IV, Scene ii), in a scene in which the girl Viola (disguised as the boy Cesario) argues with Duke Orsino (with whom she is secretly besotted) that women, though they are less demonstrative, suffer far more from love than men do.
She sat like patience on a monument,
Smiling at grief. Was not this love indeed?
We men may say more, swear more: but indeed
Our shows are more than will; for still we prove
Much in our vows, but little in our love.
I think hinting at this passage is Georgiana's very sly way of telling us that Sir William is selfish and insincere, and that Julia of a certainty cannot be happy with him.
*Pauses for a biscuit*
As for the other men moving into the fair Julia's orbit, I cannot say I see much to recommend any of them. Woodley initially comes off as perfectly ridiculous--I laughed myself silly at some of his more florid passages ("Words would be too faint a vehicle to express the anguish of my soul"!); but he demonstrates unexpected depths of perceptiveness in his assessment of Louisa's feelings after her 'disappointment':
"She has, I question not, long since beheld this unworthy wretch in the light he truly deserved; yet, no doubt, it was not till she had suffered many pangs. The heart will not recover its usual tone in a short time, that has long been racked with the agonies of love..."
So! If he can man up and stop mooning about like a lost calf, Mr. Woodely may yet prove to be an adequate hero.
*Pauses for another biscuit*
As for the last question, how would I fair if I were thrown upon the ton with little or no experience? I think it's fairly obvious I would quickly land up in the coffee houses along with the rest of the Bluestockings ;p