the structure of The Whole Duty of Man. If the chapter on ‘parents’ and the duties owed them begins in a strictly orderly fashion, duties owed to one’s ‘brothers’ (i.e. approximate equals) seem to spill into each other.
Both hierarchy and network are present in all of Richardson’s novels, but not to an equal extent. In Pamela and Clarissa, the plot structure pits the heroine against an antagonist trying to gain the upper hand – in the earlier novel, this is Pamela’s master, whose position as gentleman and employer, he assumes, gives him rights over her which she does not have over him. In Clarissa, the antagonists are the heroine’s family, insisting on their authority, and later Lovelace, whose desire for her, and dread of control by her, grows increasingly pathological. Indeed, one of the images that Clarissa’s uncle John uses to describe the family conflict – that of an “embattled phalanx” (150) – by implication excludes a number of possible forms that relationships can take. The Harlowes are not a unified, harmonious whole4 – as they were, they insist, before Clarissa’s refusal to marry at their behest. Nor are they a group of individuals whose specific needs are to be negotiated. Instead, they are all – regardless of individual preferences – subsumed into a single group which is entitled to, and required to uphold, paternal authority. Those who refuse this subjugation are seen as rebels who should be subdued and then re-absorbed. Although alternative structures of relationship exist in these two novels – such as the loyalty among fellow servants which leads them to interfere unsuccessfully on Pamela’s behalf, or the friendship between Anna and Clarissa – they are shown to be at odds with the hierarchies at the heart of the novels’ conflicts.5
In Grandison, in contrast, hero and heroine are never in open opposition, nor are they entirely subsumed in each other. Each encounters, befriends, or has conflicts with, a number of people, and each meets with his/her own struggles. None of these – with the exceptions of Harriet’s abduction and Clementina’s madness – take centre stage for long, and even these exceptions are not allowed to take over the narrative entirely. All encounters tend to increase, rather than diminish, the heroes’ social relationships, resulting in two separate but overlapping networks which are combined in the marriage of hero and heroine. While issues of hierarchy resurface intermittently, they are pushed into the past or quickly subsumed into the movement of the expanding network. One example of a theorist finding networks “politically productive” which is mentioned by LevineLevine, Caroline is particularly intriguing in the context of this study. Citing Ella Shohat, Levine raises the idea that “only networked flows and circulations will allow us ‘to transcend some of the politically debilitating effects of disciplinary and community boundaries’” (112). The network, I hope to show, is the (implicit) counterpart and corrective to hierarchy in Richardson’s last novel.
The happy ending of Grandison – as “sprawling and spreading” as any happy end – is brought about by the successful accommodation of hierarchy and network. The flexibility of the latter allows individuals to preserve their agency while voluntarily taking their places in a hierarchical society. By conceptualising individuals as the centre of a network, scope is given for processes of decision-making, self-control, and feeling – even though the desirable aim of these inner processes may be structured hierarchically. The focus on network as a structuring principle is, in part, brought about consciously by the characters themselves. An early example is Harriet’s determination never to let her love even for a husband “swallow up” her other loves (1:180). She will be supported in this feeling by her husband, who promises, after their wedding, that marriage will confirm rather than lessen her other duties (3:239). One of the affordances of hierarchy, as Clarissa shows, is that it has the power to disrupt networks. In Grandison, in contrast, hierarchy sanctions and protects networks. This protective function is then re-interpreted as the core of hierarchies (of generations, but especially of gender). The structure of networks helps mask the dangers of hierarchy. Masquerade in this sense – conceptualising reality in a certain way – is part of the story of Grandison. It shapes the behaviour of the characters, who use social roles and role-play both to do their own duty and to influence others. And it informs the structure of the plot, arranged in such a way as to foreground harmony, hiding a narrative of rule-enforcing behind a narrative of individual empowerment – hiding it all the more convincingly because the ‘cover’ narrative has truth in it.
In the following chapters, I will juxtapose the way in which Clarissa, on the one hand, and Grandison, on the other, treat the issues just outlined. In the first part of this study, I will concentrate on the system of duty as it appears in the writings of AllestreeAllestree, Richard and DelanyDelany, Patrick, correspondent of Richardson and in those of Richardson. I will analyse the network of obligations which good people should fulfil, the extent and limits of the agency it allows those not in power, and the problems this raises in Clarissa. In the second part, I will discuss alternative patterns of structuring and conceptualising moral behaviour. After outlining these patterns, I will show how they can be used either to reinforce or to challenge the system of duty. In a second step, I will demonstrate how the abuse of power in any of these systems disrupts networks among the less privileged – notably ties of friendship among women and the ties between family members. In the third part, finally, I will show how the focus in Grandison shifts from power struggle to inner conflict, which allows Richardson to contain the vulnerability of virtue in a vision of steady and benevolent reform from within. The result is a world where successful patriarchy and female wish-fulfilment seem to operate simultaneously, where the one is, indeed, the basis of the other.
Richardson’s second and third novels are complementary in structure. The respective form of each novel fits well with the patterns of relationships that are emphasized: hierarchy in Clarissa and network in Grandison. While Clarissa, despite its ‘to-the-moment’ style (cf. 721), has something of the measured, symmetrical structure of a tragedy6, Grandison’s form is indeed “sprawling and spreading”. At the same time, the style and scope of these two novels are similar, which facilitates a comparison between them. Occasionally, I will also draw on Pamela to complement my reading of the two later novels. Richardson’s first novel shares elements of both later ones, although its style – suitably for its heroine – is considerably less sophisticated7. While it is an important point of comparison, therefore, the patterns I am interested in are less obvious in this novel than in the later ones.
For reasons of practicability, I use the first edition of each novel, even though this arguably neglects Richardson’s development as an author. The relative merits of the early and late versions of Pamela and Clarissa are still far from decided, and the considerable textual changes between the first edition of the former and the last edition based on Richardson’s own emendations have led Joe BrayBray, Joe to remark that “the extent of his revisions in the 1801 text of Pamela makes this edition a new novel in itself: his fourth and last” (76). Nevertheless, the potential of the patterns that Richardson uses – potential for tragedy as well as happiness – can be shown well even when only the first editions are considered.
My main interest in this study is socio-historical. I am interested in understanding how, and why, Richardson and his contemporaries conceptualised social relationships, how these concepts influenced literary forms, and how the consideration of such concepts affects the impact of his novels. It is inevitable, of course, that my analysis of these issues is informed by modern concepts – and, in turn, any analysis of past ideologies changes one’s perspective on related contemporary issues. Accordingly, I use a selection of letters and treatises which are roughly contemporary with Richardson’s writings to support my reading and point out how his works fit in their historical context. In addition, I draw on several works from 20th–21st century sociology, anthropology, and philosophy. Although such sources are not specifically connected with Richardson’s works, non-historical treatments of such issues as structures of relationships help to highlight related patterns within the novels, which are bound by time and space.
1. The system of duty
“When I was a girl, one never heard of the rights of men, one only heard of the duties.” (GaskellGaskell, Elizabeth, “My Lady Ludlow” 51)
Richardson’s novels