In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

106 BRIAN CORMAN canons of literature, it is surprising, too, to find Fowler claiming (in another one-liner) that 'little of "the best that is known and thought in the world" comes into university courses on Women in Literature that was not already within literature's unexpanded limits. One should not expect it to' (p 10). Elsewhere, Fowler points out that 'the current canon sets limits to our understanding of literature,' and that genre is crucial in determining canon (pp 214-16). He may be right to be sceptical of the results of feminist regroupings of the canon, but the force ofhis own theoryshould makehim still more scepticalofconfident assertions about 'the best that is known and thought.' Other readers and reviewers will no doubt object to other parts of Fowler's book. But his consideration of genre, and especially his insistence on the institutional and mutable nature of genre, should be the standard introduction to the subjectfor many years to come. His proposals are so sensible that one wonders if they can really be at odds with much genre criticism of the past. (Past practice in fact quickly forces one to recognize once more the need for Fowler's study.) This is a book that promises a great deal, delivers what it promises, and delivers it well. If it receives the attention it deserves, it should promote the kind of vital, productive consideration of genre so badly needed in the study of literature today. The Power of Clarissa JAN E T E. A I KIN S Terry Castle. Clarissa's Ciphers: Meaning and Disruption in Richardson's 'Clarissa' Ithaca and London: Cornell University Press 1982. 201. $19.50 Terry Eagleton. The Rape ofClarissa: Writing, Sexuality and Class Struggle in Samuel Richardson Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press 1982. ix, 109. $25.00 cloth, $9.95 paper At first approach, Terry Eagleton'S The Rape of Clarissa recalls Dante's vision of hell. The infernal gate commands, 'Lay down all hope, you that go in by me,' and Eagleton'S jacket blurb similarly warns, 'This is a book which may alarm and outrage many traditional eighteenth-century specialists.' The Rape of Clarissa issues a challenge to a certain class of readers whose nature it claims to understand. Eagleton writes: 'The eighteenth century has long been the preserve of literary conservatism, rarely penetrated by Marxist criticism, and one purpose of my book is accordingly to appropriate a little of this patch' (p viii). Eagleton disdains what he believes to be the 'literary institution' of the eighteenth century, yet he ominously insists upon a meeting with 'traditional eighteenth-century specialists' in an encounter that promises to be every bit as precipitate as Clarissa's ivy summer-house confrontation with Lovelace. Eagleton forces the literary scholar to assume the role of his opponent. For UNIVERSITY OF TORONTO QUARTERLY, VOLUME 54, NUMBER I, FALL 1984 THE POWER OF Clarissa 107 example, he offers an initial apology that seems intended to antagonize many 'specialists' in early literature: '1 entirely lack what would appear to be one of the chief credentials for discussing the eighteenth century, namely a nostalgic urge to return to it' (pp viii-ix). On his opening page, Eagleton also presumes a community of 'general readers' to whom he issues a dare: 'The wager of this book is that it is just possible that we may now once again be able to read Samuel Richardson' (p vii). A closer look reveals that these statements are not true indications of authorial purpose or belief; instead, they are rhetorical ploys designed to put readers on the offensive. Eagleton does not shed new light on Samuel Richardson; he relies heavily on the Eaves and Kimpel biography as if it offered an uncomplicated 'truth,' which clearly no biography can do. Nevertheless , The Rape ofClarissa has an important mission, for it seeks to sensitize readers of eighteenth-century fiction to the vital nexus of cultural identity and literary artefact in our lives. Recent critical discussion of Clarissa has indulged in deconstructing it and reconstructing its heroine's rape as a relivable, hermeneutic experience. Eagleton instead calls for common sense. He reminds us that literary texts are not political arenas; the...

pdf

Share