Dear Serial Readers,
Here we are in a new serial reading country--the metaphor works too since, like Little Dorrit, this one opens out of England, this time in India. This is the first serial novel we've explored on these bloggy pages that is regarded as "sensation fiction"--a genre of Victorian popular reading that was always serialized first in magazines, either monthly ones, or weekly ones, like this one--Dickens' ALL THE YEAR ROUND. You can see the top of the first page from that weekly, the early Jan. 1868 issue that launched this novel, and sold for 2d, two pence (the monthly magazines were usually a shilling, or 12d, so this was quite a good deal!) Like Dickens, Collins wrote as the serial was being issued, usually a month or two ahead of schedule. Sensation fiction (like many of Dickens' novels) traded in suspense and secrecy, disguises and masquerades, and were designed to keep readers coming back for the next segment, like (as this one is regarded) a good mystery. Critics sometimes complained that sensation novels favor plotting over character, rather than the other way round. I see the emphasis on the plotting here, and marvel at how the timeline of the plot echoes serial time, the very dates that head each installment. What do you think? Too much emphasis on plotting? Do you get a sense of these distinct characters too?
Collins uses multiple narrators here (and in some of his other novels), and the first four segments, from Jan. 1868, are largely from Betteredge (nice Dickensian pun name!), the Verinder house-steward. What do you make of him as a narrator and whom is he addressing? All the attention to his *telling* of the story of the Moonstone certainly highlights the way this story is delivered to us.
The romance plotting, the servants taking bets about which cousin Rachel will marry, is humorous, and also interesting for this attention to the below-the-stairs (class) view of the "gentlefolk" (as Betteredge puts it). Yet when an engagement or marriage is previewed in the opening sections, there's bound to be complications. Cousin marriage, while 'normal' in nineteenth-century novels, even from Austen's EMMA, becomes more complicated as the century advances.
I'm also struck by the attention to alternative forms of knowledge--occultism (even if through Betteredge's Orientalism), clairvoyance, dreams and visions, drugs. Since some of us read Dickens's DROOD in this format, I want to mention that Dickens was writing DROOD just after MOONSTONE was issued in his magazine. I had not previously thought of DROOD as a companion text, but perhaps it is!
Finally, I'm fascinated by a thing (the upper-case Diamond--also "mere carbon") as something like a mute character, or the Moonstone as a fetish attached to multiple kinds of values and powers and debts: familial revenge, colonial theft, monetary worth, spiritual or occult powers, or the meaning of a jewel as gift to a young woman. The sheer attention to the displaying of the Diamond to Rachel and her family on her birthday compares with Betteredge's detailed description of her own body and face!
Looking forward to your thoughts as we embark on this *Moonstone* expedition!
Thanks Julia for the link to online versions of this novel. As I've redesigned this site, I've also done some housekeeping, including the righthand column where I've noted the serials we've read and when we read them, as well as two links to downloadable versions (including THE MOONSTONE--try Project Gutenberg).
For next week: Betteredge's narrative continued, chaps 10-15 (Feb. 1868)
Serially shimmering,
Susan
5 comments:
I was fascinated by the preface where Collins claims that he's examining the influence of character on circumstances, rather than the influence of circumstances on character. I guess that foregrounds plot (ultimately the major focus, if we follow his reasoning), but it isn't as simple as choosing one over the other. In fact, it seems like he's saying that character comes before plot, even if ultimately that's the main focus here.
And I love the skillful use of so many narrators in this novel. Gabriel Betteredge is one of my favorites, especially his love for Robinson Crusoe (which is almost like a sacred text and advice manual combined into one for him). I find it so intriguing that he mentions how hard it is to keep the personal out of his storytelling. Betteredge is well aware that it's hard to just stick to the facts.
The moonstone itself -- interesting that there's a flaw at the heart of the stone. I'm reading this as a symbol for the problems that this diamond brings to the protagonists. But, as Collins takes care to show us, it's not like the diamond wound up in England by innocent means! It will be interesting to see how the threat of foreignness develops in this novel. Betteredge says that Franklin Blake's character has been compromised by the veneer of so many foreign countries, and the Indian jugglers are an ominous presence ... but, on the other hand, the moonstone came to England thanks to theft and murder.
Anybody ever taught this novel? It seems like it'd go over very well in a classroom -- it's got an interesting plot and there's so much to talk about, both as a work of art and a cultural artifact.
I'll be teaching this novel this fall! Any suggestions welcomed! I didn't read Collins' Preface to the first book edition in the spirit of following the original serial publication format, which of course did not have that preface!
I love the new design of the page. Hats off to Susan! And I love the Betteredge voice and his nods to Robinson Crusoe. His style of story telling is in the form of the traditional personal essayist the way he meanders around his central point, lingering on tangents (e.g., flowers and spiders), eventually returning to his point, having moved the tale, as well as the reader’s grasp of him, forward. I enjoy his sympathetic asides to the reader too. I am behind in reading, only having finished the first nine chapters.
One thing that struck me so forcefully when reading installments is the thorny question of what is relevant in any story. In telling the tale of the stolen diamond, you have the old family letter (documentary evidence) and then Betteridge's wandering narrative. It seems clear from both that *who* tells the story (and the information we have about that person) is just as relevant as what he or she tells. This underscores beautifully the dilemma of where to start any story and how much background information to include. It is interesting to contrast the "wandering" fictional approach to narrative in this novel (each installement seems to start again...) with tight court-room rules for limiting narrative (no hearsay, no prior bad acts to establish propensity for crime, etc.) I'm probably thinking about this because my husband has a trial this week, but it goes to show how real life can influence one's reading of a novel!
Also, on a slighly different note, I found a modern-day equivalent to Victorian serialization at a site called "DailyLit." It will send you a brief snippet of a novel (even the Moonstone) to read on your email or phone. Interestingly, the segments are much shorter and usually sent once a day. You can ask for more if you read one quickly, though. This suggests to me our 21st-century intolerance for waiting. Susan, I wonder if this would be something fun to introduce to your class? I see this as just one of many neo-Victorian trends in our own daily life.
Here's the link: http://www.dailylit.com/
I have only read the first 4 chapters and Prologue so far, so I'm not reading all the entries yet! I do love the contrast between the homely voice of Betteredge and the exotic foreign tone of the Prologue. I find the name of the place, seringapatam, so exotic all on its own, though I've read about it and this battle before, from the point of view of an Anglo-Indian woman who is fascinated by how history imbues many of the places of southern India. She visits the place, tells what it is like now, and what happened there in the past. My Indian friends are dismissive of her view of history.
I'm also a bit fascinated by the way the "Hindoo priests" are a bit sympathetically portrayed in the prologue. But they change a great deal in Betteredge's account--of course, it's a different set of priests. The Prologue makes that clear, but also obscures it.
I enjoy both the voices that I've encountered so far a great deal, and find their immense differences makes them and the book all the more interesting to me! I want to look again (my text is unreachable right now due to odd travel constraints) and see whether one uses more complex sentence structure than the other.
I do love the cane chair.
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