Literary Tattoos of Eighteenth-Century Authors

After considerable searching I can only find literary tattoos based on the works of three British authors other than Eliza Haywood (covered here): and they are Alexander Pope, Mary Wollstonecraft and Jane Austen.

Including Austen is a bit of a stretch, though she is usually included in the "long eighteenth century." But, without her, I'd only have Pope, Wollstonecraft and the Marquis de Sade. An odd mix, though not uninteresting. I am sure I will find others and, when I do, I will add them below.

[UPDATE 18 July 2012: added all the missing links and five new finds: more Pope, Wollstonecraft and Austen]

(My post on literary tattoos in general is here.)

Alexander Pope (1688–1744)

An Essay on Criticism (1711), 2.325
  "To err is human; to forgive divine."

[see here for Lee Annee's tattoo]

Eloisa to Abelard (1717), ll. 207–10:
  "How happy is the blameless vestal's lot!
  The world forgetting, by the world forgot.
  Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!
  Each pray'r accepted, and each wish resign'd."

[see here for Trent's tattoo]

[see here for Crissy's profile page with links to three other images]

[see here]

[see here]

[see here]

An Essay on Man Epistle IV (1733-34): 193.
  "Act well your part, there all the honour lies"

[see here for Chanel-Deann's tattoo]

Marquis de Sade (1740–1814)

Portrait

[see here]

[For a discussion of the portrait which this tattoos is based on, see here.]

[see here]

Mary Wollstonecraft (1759-1797)

Portrait

[see here]

A Vindication of the Rights of Woman (1792), Ch.3.
"Taught from their infancy that beauty is woman's sceptre, the mind shapes itself to the body, and, roaming round its gilt cage, only seeks to adore its prison."

[see here]

Jane Austen (1775–1817)

Portrait

[see here]

[see here]

[see here for Patricia's tattoo]

Signature

[see here]

Pride and Prejudice (1813), vol.1, ch.11, Elizabeth to Miss Bingley:
"Follies and nonsense, whims and inconsistencies do divert me."

[see here for more photos]

Pride and Prejudice (1813), vol.2, ch.9 (ch.34), Mr. Darcy to Elizabeth:
"In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you."

[see here]

Pride and Prejudice (1813), vol.3, ch.18 (ch.60), Mr. Darcy to Elizabeth:
"I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun."

[see here for Mardy's tattoo]

Other

[see here for Patricia's tattoo]

[see here]

[UPDATED 13 December 2012]

[UPDATE: 2 July 2016: After my pictures have disappeared again, I have decided to give up on external hosts for large versions (1000px) of my image files, and will stick with the smaller images (500px) that Blogger is prepared to host.]

Marginal Marks in Books

On Monday Jeffrey P. Barton posted a question on the EXLIBRIS-List concerning how to describe various manuscript annotations to books. Jim Kuhn directed Jeffrey to The Shakespeare Quartos Archive (here), to a fabulous list of manuscript annotations in the "Encoding Documentation" section (here), based on the OED and/or Peter Beal’s Dictionary of English Manuscript Terminology (2008).

Since I am a little bit obsessed with marginalia at present I thought I’d reproduce the list, make some additions, and—at some point in the future—add images of examples I encounter in works by Haywood.

Manuscript Annotations

arrow: a mark like an arrow, or arrow-head, used as a pointer

asterisk: frequently drawn as a small x-cross with a dot in each angle

asterism: a group of three asterisks placed thus (_*^*_*) to direct attention to a particular passage

brace: a sign ( } or ] or > ), but may take more improvisational shapes) used in writing or printing, chiefly for the purpose of uniting together two or more lines, words, staves of music, etc.

caret: an inverted-v shaped mark placed in writing below the line, to indicate that something (written above or in the margin) has been omitted in that place

cross: two bars or lines (horizontal and vertical) crossing each other, used as a sign, ornament, etc.; mark or sign of small size used to mark a passage in a book, etc.

[dagger: †; see cross]

dash: a horizontal stroke (usually short and straight)

dot: a minute roundish mark

double oblique: two parallel slashes ( || ) or diagonal strokes ( // )

double triangle: two adjoining triangles sharing a horizontal base line

flower: the representation of a flower of more than three or four petals (which would be trefoils and quatrefoils; see below)

gnomic pointing: double inverted commas used in the meadieval and early-modern period to draw attention to proverbs and sententiae

label: a slip of paper, cardboard, metal, etc. attached or intended to be attached

line: a horizontal line, longer than a dash (and generally serving a different purpose)

manicule: hand or fist with pointing finger

marginal commas: single or double commas, sometimes inverted, used to mark a line or lines of text. Alexander Pope used a system of marginal commas and asterisks in his Chaucer and Shakespeare to indicate “some of the most shining passages.”

mathematical formulas: use only for complex numeric equations or arithmetical problems; transcribe simple numeric or mathematical annotations in full

n.b. or N.B.: abbreviation for nota bene, or "note well"

O: the letter considered with regard to its shape

oblique: a slash or diagonal stroke

quatrefoil: compound leaf or flower containing four, usually rounded, leaflets or petals radiating from a common centre

[quotation marks: see gnomic pointing, marginal commas and running quotes]

running quotes: double inverted commas used to indicate a quotation and, therefore (perhaps), something quote-worthy

scribble: a piece of random or casual doodling or drawing of unclear textual purpose, including pen trials made by writers to test a freshly-trimmed pen or a writing style

stroke: a vertical stroke (usually short and straight: | )

trefoil: a leaf, such as a clover, comprising three rounded sections

triangle: a rectilineal figure having three angles and three sides

X: the letter considered with regard to its shape

[UPDATED 19 July 2012]

Paratextual Satire: An Introduction

It seems that the locution "paratextual satire" is not new; credit for it must go to the late Dr Janis L. Pallister. Pallister used this phrase twenty years ago in an article on François Béroalde de Verville's Le Moyen de parvenir (1616?), glossing it as "satire outside the narrative structures."

Though the phrase is not new it is in "as new condition," having been used only by Pallister and by Pallister only once. And though credit must go to the distinguished professor of romance languages for inventing and first using the term, I am not indebted to her for it. I invented the phrase (I think thought) after doing some research on satirical footnotes in Swift, Pope and Gibbon, to describe the use of satire and irony in all matters paratextual (titles, dedications, subscription lists, footnotes, indexes etc) and epitextual (advertisements, reviews, descriptions of book-buyers and readers etc).

And, while my definition is broad—quite broad, as I will explain—the "satire outside the narrative structures" that Pallister has in mind is limited to the satirical use of chapter titles. Chapter titles that "have no bearing on the content" of a text do two things: they draw the reader's attention to the chapter titles themselves and they offer another narrative voice that either disrupts the coherent narrative of the text or contributes (as in Le Moyen de parvenir) to the multiple narrative voices in the text. In either case, the multiple narrative voices encourage "an almost postmodern distrust of the power of texts coherently to convey knowledge."

Satirical chapter titles are only one way in which an author can provide multiple narrative voices; others are continuous satirical footnotes, glosses and commentary, or stand-apart dedications, prefaces and appendixes. Each of these use (and draw attention to) a recognised element the text as a printed artifact, to disrupt the coherent narrative of the text and to provide another narrative voice. The butt of this sort of paratextual satire was often the emerging norms of scholarly discourse, particularly the norms of (printed) scholarly apparatus.

But is also possible to satirise—draw attention to, ridicule and derive humour from—paratextual elements that do not, strictly speaking, involve providing another narrative voice. The satirical subscription list in the erotic somatopia A Voyage To Lethe (1742) is made up of names such as “Mr. Smallcock,” “Mr Badcock,” “Mr. Nocock,” etc. Likewise, William King’s "A Short Account of Dr. Bentley by way of Index” (1698) does not disrupt the coherent narrative of the text or encourage a postmodern distrust of texts: it contributes to the satire by using paratextual elements and depends for its effect on a reader's awareness of the text as a printed artifact.

It is also possible to satirise—draw attention to, ridicule and derive humour from—epitextual elements. That is, elements outside the bound volume, which includes satirical or ironic advertisements, real or faux reviews or endorsements, correspondence with, or diaries of, the author etc. Personally, I am inclined to include satire based on all aspects on Robert Darnton's communications circuit (which covers the whole life cycle of a book from writer to reader).

Adopting such a broad definition of para- and epitextual satire allows us to include satires that influence a reader's reading of an author or group of authors (authors as Popean "dunces"), a genre (gynecology as erotica), or texts in a particular format (chapbooks as children's literature). It might also include satires on bookseller, publishers, auctioneers, collectors and collections.

Addison's depiction of the library of Leonora in The Spectator (no.37; 12 April 1711), for example, is a misogynistic satire on women readers and book buyers that draws attention to the ignoble fate of individual books ("Locke of Human Understanding: With a Paper of Patches in it") and the ignoble fate in general of books that "have a Tendency to enlighten the Understanding and rectify the Passions" ("Sherlock upon Death" is followed by "The fifteen Comforts of Matrimony"; "The New Atalantis, with a Key to it" sits between "Advice to a Daughter" and "Mr. Steel's Christian Heroe").

The apogee of this type of ignoble-fate, paratextual satire is, perhaps, a pamphlet published in 1753 by J. Lewis: Bum-Fodder for the Ladies. A Poem, (Upon Soft Paper). In this case the paper that the text is printed on is, itself, a satirical reflection on the fate of occasional verse and/or the value of occasional verse.

If, as the author says, the fate of such verse is to be used as toilet-paper, it may as well accept this reality, and offer verse worthy of its fate, printed on soft paper.** The poet has the last laugh: concluding smugly with a reminder to the reader that they have paid a high price for this bumfodder:

  I do not promise much, perhaps you'll say;
  But I'll fulfil, and that's the surest way.
  What can be expected, when I fairly tell ye
  That nought but Bumfodder for Sixpence I sell ye?

**It is not really surprising, but it is noteworthy, that only two copies of this poem survive.

Haywood Lost in the War

When I was in Germany in 1995 and 1997, searching for copies of Haywood's works, I encountered a few ghosts. Two which stand out in my mind are translations of Ab.67 The History of Miss Betsy Thoughtless: one in Berlin, one in Munich. In both cases one of the two volumes that comprise each set were "keine Benutzung möglich" [lost in the war].

In the case of Ab.67.13 L’Etourdie, ou Histoire de Mis Betsy Tatless (Berlin, 1755) the Bavarian State Library (the Bayerische Staatsbibliothek) in Munich held a set in two volumes in 1934, which was reported by Mary and Lawrence Price, but only the first volume survived WW2.

In the case of Ab.67.17 Geschichte des Fräuleins Elisabeth Thoughtleß (Leipzig, 1754) the Berlin State Library (Deutsche Staatsbibliothek) in Berlin held a set in two volumes in 1931, which was reported in Gesamtkatalog der preussischen Bibliotheken, but only the second volume survived WW2.

(The Prussian State Library i.e., the Preussischen Staatsbibliotheken only existed between 1918 and 1945; the library was broken up with the partitioning on Berlin and the collections were not reunited until 1992, only a few years before my visit. See Wikipedia entry here.)

I was struck, at the time of my visits, by the symmetry of these random losses, the first volume of one set, the second volume of another. And I was reminded of these losses this week by the happy discovery that Staatsbibliothek zu Berlin has acquired a second set of Ab.67.17 to replace the set "keine Benutzung möglich." And, ever-zealous to make amends for the past (past destruction wrought by and on them), the Germans have published the whole thing online (here) in colour.

The interface is a little clunky but, as you can see, the images are clear, the printing is gorgeous, and the digital facsimile is complete: including the binding. I have a link to this facsimile on my page of links to Haywood texts and scholarship—it is the first such link to a text not on Google Books. I hope this is a sign of things to come. That individual libraries will move beyond the production of online facsimiles of the same small number of prize texts, to facsimiles of a substantial portion of their historical collections.

(Keeping track of all the texts published online this way might be a challenge, but I'd rather have the challenge of finding all the texts I am interested in online, than be forced to fly to the other side of the world and undertake a nearly-endless trek from library to library. It is not that I didn't love the opportunity as a student to see so much of Europe and America, but it does seem mad to spend five minutes looking at one book after another, at one library after another, in one country after another, for months on end, only to return home and discover that—since I had overlooked a handful of tiny details—that I have to repeat my journey to complete my study!)

[Deutsche Staatsbibliothek copy 2 (19 ZZ 11623)]

[UPDATE: 2 July 2016: After all my pictures disappeared again, I decided to give up on external hosts for large versions (1000px) of my image files, and will stick with the smaller images (500px), which Blogger is prepared to host, for now on.]

Eliza Haywood on YouTube

Discussions of Haywood are turning up in all kinds of places online, but I did not expect to find anything on YouTube. But here are some of the videos I found when I was updating my Haywood links page:

Adaptations etc of Fantomina




Discussion of Love in Excess