Dear Serial Readers,
Thanks for all these terrific posts!
In this past set of chapters we're introduced to the "celebrated character" of Sergeant Cuff. Although original readers would not have made this comparison, I thought of the Watson/Holmes pairing in Conan Doyle's Sherlock stories. Like Watson, Betteredge is the earnest narrator who, despite his attentiveness, simply cannot *see* in the ways that Cuff does. I was struck too by Cuff as a reading master, by his repeated lessons about how to be a good reader of clues, of everyday, ordinary things and events and characters. These lessons, within the narrative, are directed at Betteredge, but do we too profit from the scenes of Cuff's instruction? I read somewhere that detective novels, sensation fiction, and more generally the enterprise of reading, can stimulate a kind of paranoia, where details overwhelm us to suspect everywhere the possibilities of clues, of hidden meanings. Betteredge seems an average, close reader, attentive and able to draw obvious conclusions. But Cuff is a different kind of reader, a master reader who makes startling connections. What makes him so?
My other observation, perhaps proof that I'm reading in a different way here, is that there are evident "curtain scenes" with the end of each installment, much more so than I'd noticed in Dickens' serials. Even if you're reading an edition of THE MOONSTONE that does not show the serial breaks, you can probably tell where they fall because of the dramatic suspense with which Betteredge ends that chapter or section. Chap. 10 ends with Betteredge's "The next thing to tell is the story of the night." This would be the night when the Diamond disappears. And this is also the break between the Feb. 1 & Feb. 8, 1868 installments. Then chap. 11, which includes two different installments, notes that division with, "..and out walked Rosanna Spearman!" And the very last of these five Feb. 1868 installments ends with Betteredge hearing Lady V's voice calling to them, on the heels of Cuff's assertion that some scandal is about to "burst up in the house." Perhaps these marked divisions are part and parcel of sensation fiction that stimulate the reader on for more episodes. Did such provocative endings to installments actually stimulate sales, get readers to buy the next edition of the magazine, in this case?
So I'm curious how Julia's "DailyLit" option for today's serial reader would affect these deliberate "curtain scenes" from the original serialization? Am I finding these suspenseful accents because I know that's where the installment ended when Collins first wrote it and Dickens published it? Surely I'd read the novel's new divisions in the DailyLit mode differently! I wish I had the patience to try out the experiment!
Next time: the remainder of Betteredge's narrative, chaps 16-23.
Serially struck,
Susan
3 comments:
The other factor that increases readerly suspense is how Cuff (well, technically, Betteredge recounting his experiences with Cuff) lets us know *just enough* without spoiling the mystery. We're aware that there's some significance to the things he's discovered (Rachel's strange reluctance to work with Sgt. Cuff, the chains, etc.), but we're not really provided enough information to work out the solution for ourselves. So we have to come back next time.
I'm also amused to see in Sgt. Cuff the characteristics that will become clichés of detective fiction: the eccentric but brilliant detective with a hobby (here gardening; in Holmes it's the violin) and a penchant for befriending an observer who can listen to his deductions. I wonder how much Cuff really is the model for later fiction; I know Poe is usually cited as the writer who created detective fiction in English, but I haven't read "The Murders in the Rue Morgue." Maybe I'll give it a quick read and report back!
Reading this installment, I thought a lot about Joshua’s mention of Collins’ interest in the effect of character on circumstances. That intersection seems to be the fulcrum of tension between Mr. B. and Cuff here. So far, Mr. B. seems farther pushed —or drawn by detective fever—toward the limits of his character than Cuff is, in part because we know less of Cuff’s internal workings than Mr. B.’s, since B is the narrator. It was great scene, at the Yollands, when Mr. B. situated himself variously, as his character allowed, in proximity of the door, as Cuff played with and pushed the edge of propriety, searching for information from the Mr. and Mrs.
At the moment, I’m not sure how any of the characters' characters will end up affecting circumstances, but I’m eager to see how Collins plays it out among the various types, inside and outside the household.
I spent a lot of time hinking about what Julia said about what really matters to the plot.I enjoy how Betteredge focuses on that in the firrst nine chapters. I love when he admonishes his reader to stop thinking about other things and focus so as not to get lost. And it seems Mr. Franklin and the lawyer are the audience, but also posterity. I also love the way he foregrounds his daughter's and then Cuff's different readings. This leads me to be a very suspicious reader though I don't think I'm unduly so in life.
I find myself making wilder and less wild speculations as I read. for example, who is this so-called Mr. Franklin who looks so unlike his childhood self?
A last note for tonight is that I also enjoy the plethora of religions that seem to not be too criticized at least as contrasted with the apparently useful Crusoeism.
I read my partner highlights tonight and he can't stop talking about what an interesting book this is!
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