The Female Quixote: “would certainly make a Convert of Lady Bella”

Having now said goodbye to Arabella, I’m going to jot down some final thoughts (the blog post will be short as I’m ill and miserable). 

My main two criticisms of the novel remain true till the end. The Female Quixote is a one-trick pony—Charlotte Lennox may be funny at first but the joke soon gets stale. When Fielding was taking the piss out of Richardson’s Pamela, he knew his simple premise was not enough to sustain a full-length novel, so Shamela is just a novella or a long short story. Joseph Andrews, the full-length novel that started off as a parody of Pamela, soon went in another direction and developed into something else. Arabella’s misreading of everything in life as resembling 17th century French romances is not enough material for 400 pages, but Charlotte Lennox also adds nothing for variation or depth—even when she brings her protagonist to Bath and then to London, it’s the same joke over and over and over again.

The other problem is, as I said, the characterisation of Arabella. Lennox tells us now and again that Arabella is an accomplished lady, that she has great wit and delicacy, that she has a noble mind and good reasoning as long as the subject of conversation is neither love nor romances, but where is it? Lennox doesn’t show it. There may be a remark here and there where Arabella moralises about something, such as about raillery, but she would then come across as moralistic.

My new complaint, now that I’ve read the whole novel, is that the resolution is unsatisfying. The hurried, abrupt, contrived ending feels like an interference from outside—either Samuel Johnson or Samuel Richardson—especially when the introduction of the Countess seemed to be potentially important (“Mr. Glanville at his Return to the Dining-Room, finding Arabella retired, told his Father in a Rapture of Joy, that the charming Countess would certainly make a Convert of Lady Bella”) but that plotline got suddenly cut off. What happened? 

As for characterisation in general, it’s generally weak. I said that in Evelina, every character was defined by a single trait, but at least Frances Burney gave each one a distinct voice—her characters may not be complex but they feel alive—I can’t say the same about Charlotte Lennox’s characters. What is Mr Glanville’s trait, for instance? Apart from being in love with Arabella (for some reason) and continually getting second-hand embarrassment because of her ridiculous behaviour? Arabella is defined by a single trait; most other characters don’t even have a personality trait. The best character in The Female Quixote, I would say, is not Arabella but Miss Glanville, sister of the poor Mr Glanville. She is frivolous, she is envious and petty, she is not extraordinary; but she loves and hates, she is human, she is flesh and blood.

Great novels such as Anna Karenina, Don Quixote, or Moby Dick should be read and reread multiple times throughout one’s life. Some novels like Evelina or Joseph Andrews may not be so great and complex to require multiple readings, but they’re worth reading once. I’m not sure I can say The Female Quixote, unless you have some specialist interest, is worth reading once.

The Female Quixote: “silently cursed his ill Fate, to make him in love with a Woman so ridiculous”

1/ I’m taking back my comment earlier that Arabella’s ridiculous but lovable. 

“… You are a foolish Wench! replied Arabella, smiling at [Lucy’s] Simplicity. Do you think I have any Cause to accuse myself, though five thousand Men were to die for me! It is very certain my Beauty has produced very deplorable Effects: the unhappy Hervey has expiated, by his Death, the Violence his too-desperate Passion forced him to meditate against me: the no less guilty, the noble unknown Edward, is wandering about the World, in a tormenting Despair; and stands exposed to the Vengeance of my Cousin, who has vowed his Death. My Charms have made another Person, whose Character ought to be sacred to me, forget all the Ties of Consanguinity; and become the Rival of his Son, whose Interest he once endeavoured to support: and lastly, the unfortunate Bellmour consumes away in an hopeless Passion; and, conscious of his Crime, dooms himself, haply, with more Severity than I desire, to a voluntary Death; in Hopes, thereby, of procuring my Pardon and Compassion when he is no more…” (B.4, ch.9) 

Delusional and narcissistic. At the beginning, Arabella seems rather sweet and compassionate and non-judgemental, just odd and foolish. But she becomes increasingly narcissistic as the story goes on. 

“Will your Ladyship, then, let poor Sir George die? said Lucy, who had listened very attentively to this fine Harangue without understanding what it meant.

Questionless, he must die, replied Arabella, if he persists in his Design of loving me.” (ibid.) 

Mental. We know Sir George’s not gonna die from his love for her, but she doesn’t know that—does she not come across as callous about death? She also expects men to risk their lives and kill for her. Why does Mr Glanville love Arabella? It’s madness. 

There are, I think, three problems in Charlotte Lennox’s characterisation of Arabella. 

First of all is, as written above, her narcissism. One of the reasons Don Quixote is such an enduring and lovable character is because Cervantes combines in him ridiculousness and goodness, or nobility—the same goes for Fielding’s Parson Adams, another character modelled after Don Quixote. Or if we compare Charlotte Lennox and Jane Austen, Emma Woodhouse misperceives everything; she is foolish, snobbish, meddlesome; but she is lovable because her meddling comes from a desire to do good for others and she is capable of self-reflection.

Arabella is irritating and extremely frustrating—not only does she misread everything, but she also makes it impossible for others to speak and clear things up. 

“Reasons! said Sir Charles: there is no making her hear Reason, or expecting Reason from her. I never knew so strange a Woman in my Life: she would not allow me to speak what I intended concerning you; but interrupted me every Moment, with some high-flown Stuff or other.” (B.5, ch.5) 

Another problem is that Lennox tells us that Arabella is an accomplished woman, that Mr Glanville is charmed by “the agreeable Sallies of her Wit, and her fine Reasoning upon every Subject he proposed” except romances or the subject of love, but Lennox doesn’t show us. Again, look at Don Quixote: we do hear him talk about a wide range of subjects; we can see that he’s highly intelligent and knowledgeable; we do get the impression that he’s a good and sensible and understanding man, as long as the subject of chivalry doesn’t come up. We never hear Arabella talk about anything else. 

“I shall not trouble myself to deny any thing about them, Madam, said Miss Glanville; for I never heard of them before; and really I do not choose to be always talking of Queens and Princesses, as if I thought none but such great People were worthy my Notice: it looks so affected, I should imagine every one laughed at me that heard me.” (B.5, ch.1) 

This leads to the third problem: The Female Quixote is one-note. Lots of things happen in Don Quixote. Lots of things happen in Joseph Andrews. Lots of things happen in Northanger Abbey. Lots of things happen in Emma. Everything in The Female Quixote is more or less variation of the same joke—how many times are we going to watch Arabella misperceive things as resembling those silly romances? how many times are we going to watch others laugh at her, or get speechlessly confused about her?

The first one is not necessarily a fault—we don’t have to like the protagonist to recognise the quality of a book—after all my favourite novels include Madame Bovary, Wuthering Heights, Lolita. But the other two points explain why the book is now little known. The Female Quixote still keeps me reading just because Charlotte Lennox is funny, very funny. 

2/ After the set-up, the plot of The Female Quixote is driven by the pursuit of Arabella by two men: Mr Glanville, a good man who loves her (for some reason) and can’t stand silly romances; and Sir George, a mercenary man who eyes her fortune and courts her in the style of those romances he has also read. 

Charlotte Lennox interrupts the central joke of The Female Quixote with Sir George’s narration of his own life, completely made up and in the style of romances: 

“… I love you, divine Philonice; and not being able either to repent, or cease to be guilty of loving you, I am resolved to die, and spare you the Trouble of pronouncing my Sentence. I beseech you therefore to believe, that I would have died in Silence, but for your Command to declare myself; and you should never have known the Excess of my Love and Despair, had not my Obedience to your Will obliged me to confess it.” (B.6, ch.9)

He does know these books very well—he’s clearly determined to catch Arabella (even if it makes him look like a bellend before everyone else). 

“The Silence of Philonice, continued Sir George, pierced me to the Heart; and when I saw her rise from her Seat, and prepare to go away without speaking, Grief took such Possession of my Spirits, that, uttering a Cry, I fell into a Swoon, which, as I afterwards was informed, greatly alarmed the beautiful Philonice; who, resuming her Seat, had the Goodness to assist her Women in bringing me to myself; and, when I opened my Eyes, I had the Satisfaction to behold her still by me, and all the Signs of Compassion in her Face…” (B.6, ch.10) 

It is very funny—but just in small doses—Charlotte Lennox drags this on for 10 chapters, 10 tedious chapters—it would probably be more enjoyable if one knew those French romances and hated them with the same passion. The conclusion of this episode however is hilarious, in its unexpectedness—Lennox probably has to take a while to build it up for that hysterical conclusion. 

I’m curious about how the novel’s gonna end. 

The Female Quixote: “she often complained of the Insensibility of Mankind, upon whom her Charms seemed to have so little Influence”

1/ In creating a female Quixote, Charlotte Lennox has one great disadvantage: Arabella can never have the grandeur of Don Quixote—as a woman, what can she do?—she cannot go on adventures, she cannot chase glory, she cannot fight the wicked, she cannot rescue the weak—the heroines in her favourite novels do none of these things and neither does she. 

“Well, well, madam, said Glanville, I’ll convince you of my Innocence, by bringing that Rascal’s Head to you, whom you suspect I was inclined to assist in stealing you away.

If you do that, resumed Arabella, doubtless you will be justified in my Opinion, and the World’s also; and I shall have no Scruple to treat you with as much Friendship as I did before.

[…] Does your Ladyship consider, said Miss Glanville, that my Brother can take away no Person’s Life whatever, without endangering his own?

I consider, Madam, said Arabella, your Brother as a Man possessed of Virtue and Courage enough to undertake to kill all my Enemies and Persecutors, though I had ever so many; and I presume he would be able to perform as many glorious Actions for my Service, as either Juba, Cæsario, Artamenes, or Artaban, who, though not a Prince, was greater than any of them.

[…] I perceive, interrupted Arabella, what kind of Apprehensions you have: I suppose you think, if your Brother was to kill my Enemy, the Law would punish him for it: but pray undeceive yourself, miss…” (B.3, ch.6) 

There lies the central difference between them: Don Quixote is mad and often foolish, such as when he tilts at windmills or attacks wineskins, and his efforts to rescue others are often futile, sometimes even counter-productive, but there are numerous occasions on which he puts his own life in danger—he is noble and has ideals—Arabella in contrast expects others to risk their lives for her and thus comes across as entitled and delusional and careless about life and death. 

When Mr Glanville is ill: 

“… Die, Miss! interrupted Arabella eagerly: No, he must not die; and shall not, if the Pity of Arabella is powerful enough to make him live. Let us go then, Cousin, said she, her Eyes streaming with Tears; let us go and visit this dear Brother, whom you lament: haply the Sight of me may repair the Evils my Rigour has caused him; and since, as I imagine, he has forborne, through the profound Respect he has for me, to request the Favour of a Visit, I will voluntarily bestow it on him, as well for the Affection I bear you, as because I do not wish his Death.

You do not wish his Death, Madam! said Miss Glanville, excessively angry at a Speech, in her Opinion, extremely insolent. Is it such a mighty Favour, pray, not to wish the Death of my Brother, who never injured you? I am sure, your Behaviour has been so extremely inhuman, that I have repented a thousand Times we ever came to the Castle.” (B.3, ch.7) 

Man, this Arabella is irritating. 

(A side note: Don Quixote is the original cosplayer; Arabella is the original fangirl). 

2/ However, The Female Quixote shows what it’s like to be in a woman in the 18th century, and does have certain ideas that might be called feminist. 

“… her Lover should purchase her with his Sword from a Crowd of Rivals, and arrive to the Possession of her Heart by many Years of Services and Fidelity.

The Impropriety of receiving a Lover of her Father’s Recommending appeared in its strongest Light. What Lady in Romance ever married the Man that was chosen for her?” (B.1, ch.8) 

Why should Arabella marry someone just because her father has made that choice? 

Here what she says to her father: 

“… if it is your absolute Command, that I should marry, give me not to one, who, though he has the Honour to be allied to you, has neither merited your Esteem, nor my Favour, by any Action worthy of his Birth, or the Passion he pretends to have for me; for, in fine, my Lord, by what Services has he deserved the Distinction with which you honour him? Has he ever delivered you from any considerable Danger? Has he saved your Life, and hazarded his own for you, upon any Occasion whatever? Has he merited my Esteem, by his Sufferings, Fidelity, and Respect; or, by any great and generous Action, given me a Testimony of his Love, which should oblige me to reward him with my Affection?” (B.1, ch.10) 

Her vision of life is coloured by those French romances, but the gist of it isn’t wrong: what has Mr Glanville done to merit her esteem and affection? Jane Austen must have liked this. 

3/ Charlotte Lennox is very, very funny. This scene for example is hilarious:     

“Arabella, as soon as she left them, went up to her Apartment; and calling Lucy into her Closet, told her that she had made Choice of her, since she was best acquainted with her Thoughts, to relate her History to her Cousins, and a Person of Quality who was with them.

Sure your Ladyship jests with me, said Lucy: how can I make a History about your Ladyship?

[…] Well! exclaimed Arabella: I am certainly the most unfortunate Woman in the World! […] you ask me to tell you what you must say; as if it was not necessary you should know as well as myself, and be able not only to recount all my Words and Actions, even the smallest and most inconsiderable, but also all my Thoughts, however instantaneous; relate exactly every Change of my Countenance; number all my Smiles, Half-Smiles, Blushes, Turnings pale, Glances, Pauses, Full-Stops, Interruptions; the Rise and Falling of my Voice; every Motion of my Eyes; and every Gesture which I have used for these ten Years past; nor omit the smallest Circumstance that relates to me.

Lord bless me, Madam! said Lucy, excessively astonished: I never, till this Moment, it seems, knew the hundredth thousandth Part of what was expected from me. I am sure, if I had, I would never have gone to Service; for I might well know I was not fit for such Slavery.” (B.3, ch.5) 

Hahahahaha. Isn’t Arabella such an extreme narcissist? 

The quote in the headline comes from the very first chapter of the novel. 

4/ In a blog post about Evelina, I wrote that every character was defined by a single trait. However, there is variation in the book, because Volume 1 is about Evelina’s exploration of London with her middle-class friends; Volume 2 is about her visits to other parts of London with her trade relatives; and Volume 3 is about her stay in Bristol with some aristocrats. It also isn’t boring because we have both the voices of different characters, which are all distinct, and the voice of Evelina commenting on these people and events. 

Charlotte Lennox is very funny, like Frances Burney, but she writes about a smaller group of characters and the book essentially has a one-joke plot. I’m nearly halfway through—I doubt there would be a second joke—we’ll see. 

The Female Quixote: “supposing Romances were real Pictures of Life, from them she drew all her Notions and Expectations”

1/ My blog isn’t much read, I guess, when I keep blogging about books most people haven’t read and probably haven’t even heard of. But there are three reasons for me to pick up The Female Quixote; or The Adventures of Arabella (1752) by Charlotte Lennox: a) I’m currently wandering around the 18th century; b) it was—surprise!—inspired by Don Quixote; c) it in turned inspired Jane Austen’s Northanger Abbey. 

(Perhaps I should make a reading list of Fiction Suspicious of Fiction). 

It’s also a good idea to read The Female Quixote right after Evelina because a) Arabella is 17, the same age as Evelina; b) they are both sheltered girls who don’t know much about the world, and have a series of “adventures”; c) I can compare Charlotte Lennox and Frances Burney, both early female novelists. 

Now you’re gonna ask, if Don Quixote takes aim at chivalry romances and Northanger Abbey parodies gothic novels, what about The Female Quixote? Its target is 17th century French romance novels. Readers of Lennox’s novel may find this website useful.

Interestingly enough, The Female Quixote and Madame Bovary—separated by about 100 years—both have a go at female readers who think life is like romance novels, but they are extremely different.

2/ Like Parson Adams in Joseph Andrews, Arabella is so clearly modelled after Don Quixote that we could all recognise it even without the author’s acknowledgement: 

“For Heaven’s sake, Cousin, resumed Arabella, laughing, how have you spent your Time; and to what Studies have you devoted your Hours, that you could find none to spare for the Perusal of Books from which all useful Knowledge may be drawn; which give us the most shining Examples of Generosity, Courage, Virtue, and Love; which regulate our Actions, form our Manners, and inspire us with a noble Desire of emulating those great, heroic, and virtuous Actions, which made those Persons so glorious in their Age, and so worthy Imitation in ours?” (B.1, ch.12)  

Some details come straight out of Don Quixote, such as the call for book-burning. I’m not calling Lennox’s book a rip-off—I’m saying that there’s something about Cervantes’s novel that resonates with lots of people and inspires lots of books.

One thing: what I heard about The Female Quixote before picking it up made me think that Arabella mistakenly assumed everyone to be in love with her when they’re not—that’s not her delusion—many men are indeed attracted to her—her problem is that she bases her own conduct upon 17th century romance novels and judges everyone according to these ridiculous standards and makes erroneous assumptions about everything she sees. Her delusion and wild distortion of events make her closer to Don Quixote than Catherine Morland (Northanger Abbey) or Emma Woodhouse.

Like Frances Burney, Charlotte Lennox is very funny. The most important thing she seems to have learnt from Cervantes is how to create a character who appears rather mad and misperceives everything and acts oddly but who is nevertheless lovable—Arabella is nuts, but you can slowly see why Mr Glanville thinks that her weirdness “notwithstanding the pain it gave him, could not lessen the love he felt for her”. 

Did Jane Austen learn from Lennox to create Emma? 

3/ So who is Arabella’s Sancho? 

“… I have reason to expect, I shall suffer the same Violence that many illustrious Ladies have done before me; and be carried away by Force from my own House, as they were.

Alas! madam! said Lucy, terrified at this Discourse, who is it that intends to carry your Ladyship away? Sure no Robbers will attempt any Mischief at such a Time as this!

Yes, Lucy, replied Arabella, with great Gravity, the worst kind of Robbers; Robbers who do not prey upon Gold and Jewels, but, what is infinitely more precious, Liberty and Honour. […] And Heaven knows when I shall be delivered from his Chains!

God forbid, said Lucy, sobbing, that ever such a Lady should have such hard Hap! What Crime, I wonder, can you be guilty of, to deserve to be in Chains?” (B.2, ch.10)

Charlotte Lennox gives Arabella’s maid Lucy, Sancho’s susceptibility and cowardice—let’s see if Lucy’s going to develop, as Sancho does. 

However, if Dulcinea doesn’t exist, Arabella’s love is very real and that’s her cousin Mr Glanville. 

4/ The Female Quixote is in some ways closer to a play. Little description. Little narration. Mostly dialogue. 

I’ve noted something interesting: 

“Lady Bella, from the Familiarity with which Miss Glanville treated this gay Gentleman, concluding him her Lover, and one who was apparently well received by her, had a strong Curiosity to know her Adventures; and as they were walking the next Morning in the Garden, she told her, that she thought it was very strange they had hitherto observed such a Reserve to each other, as to banish mutual Trust and Confidence from their Conversation. Whence comes it, Cousin, added she, being so young and lovely as you are, that you, questionless, have been engaged in many Adventures, you have never reposed Trust enough in me to favour me with a Recital of them?

Engaged in many Adventures, Madam! returned Miss Glanville, not liking the Phrase: I believe I have been engaged in as few as your Ladyship.

You are too obliging, returned Arabella, who mistook what she said for a Compliment; for since you have more Beauty than I, and have also had more Opportunities of making yourself beloved, questionless you have a greater Number of Admirers.

As for Admirers, said Miss Charlotte bridling, I fancy I have had my Share! Thank God, I never found myself neglected; but, I assure you, madam, I have had no Adventures, as you call them, with any of them.

No, really! interrupted Arabella, innocently.

No, really, Madam, retorted Miss Glanville; and I am surprised you should think so.” (B.2, ch.9)

By not using speech marks, Charlotte Lennox blends together the voice of the narrator and the voices of the characters. I should think more about its effects.