i

Kat~wal Library B~biioth&pe natirnafe CAMADIAN THESES F&ES CANADIENNES , of Cwada T a n a d a CRPYICA[3FICHE

f'

DEGREE FCR WHICH THESIS WAS WESENTED' %a - G R ~ E POUR LEQUEL CETTE THESE FLIT &SENTEE

Y E A R THIS DEGREE COFIFERRED/ANNI!E .ED'WTEMfW DE CE GRADE / w o h i d Shuck

NAME OF SUPERVISOR/NOM DU DlREC7EUR DE T H ~ S E

Permission is hereby granted to the NATlONAL LIBRARY OF L'autorisation .est, par la prtfsente, accordtfe 3 l a BIBLIOTH$-

CANADA to microfilm this thesis and to lend or sell copies QUE NATIONALE DU CANADA de micyofilmer cette these et . of the f i lm. de prker ou de vendre des exemplaires du film.

The author reserves other publication rights, and neither the L'auteur se rt?seve les autres droits de publication: n i la

thesis nor extensiw extracts from it m y be printed or other- theseni de longs extraits de cefle-ci ne doivent &re irnprimCs

wlse reproduced without the author's written perrnissim. w autrement reproduits sans I'autwisation Bcrite de I'auteur.

Microfiche Sewice sur microf iqhe

NOTICE

- ---'f* of ttrismrnh is '

u p o n e u a l i t y of the original t h w microfilming. Every effort has+been made to ensure the highest quality of reproduction poss'~ble.

Jf missinff m e t * university which ra ed the degree. JY *

Some pa@ may have indistinct print especialty i f the origiflal pages were typed with a poor typewri-ter ribbon or if the university sent us a poor photocopy.

Previously copyrighted materials (journal articles, published tests, etc.) are not filmed.

Reproduction %in full or in part of this film is gov- erned by the Canadian Copyright Act, R.S.C. 1970, c. C-30. Please read the authorization forms which accompany this thesis.

THIS DISSERTATION 4 HAS BEEN MICROFtlMED

EXACTLY AS RECEIVED -

ta-quatit+cte ce-*-g-i- la qualit6 de la. t%se soumise au microfilmage. Nous avons tout fait pour assurer une qualit6 suphrieure de reproduction.

S'il cisanque des pages, veuillez m u n i q u e r avec l'universite qui a confCr6 le grade.

La qualite d'impression de certaines pages peut laisser a dgsirer, surtout si les pages originales ont 6te dactylographi6es B l'aide d'un ruban us6 ou si I'univer- sit6 nous a fait parvenir une photocopie de mauvaise ,

qualite. C

Les documents qpi font deja I'objet d'un droit d'auteur (articles de revue, examens publib, etc.) ne sont pas microfilm6s. -

La reproduction, m5me partielle, de ce microfilm est soumise a la Loi canadienne sur le droit d'auteur, SRC 1970, c. C-30. Veuiflez prendre connaissance des formules d'autorisation qui atzcompagnent cette t h h .

LA THESE A ETE MICROFILMEE TELLE QUE

NOUS L'AVONS RECUE

Ottawa, C a d K I A ON4

- -

NORTH AMERICAN TRAVEL W R I T I N G

Janet G i l t r *

B . A . , Simon Fraser University, 1970

M , A . , Simon Fraser University, 1973

A THESIS SUBMITTED I N PARTIAL FULFILMENT OF

DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY

i n the Department

or English

Z

Janet G i l t r o w 1979

Simon Fraser University -

A l l r i g h t s reserved. This t h e s i s may not be reproduced i n whole o r i n p a r t , by photocopy

br other means, without permission of the author.

my t h e s i s ,

t o users o

s i n g l e cop

l i b r a r y o f

Author:

I hereby g r a n t t o Simon ~ r a i e r U n i v e r s i t y t h e r i g h t t o lend

p r o j e c t o r extended essay ( t h e t i ' t l e o f which i s shown below) ,'. f t h e Simon Fraser U n i v e r s i t y L ib ra ry , and t o make p a r i i a l o r

i e s on l y f o r such useks o r i n response t o a request from t h e .

any o t h e r u n i v e r s i t y , o r o the r educat ional ins t ih tu t ion , on ,

, i t . s _ m p b e h a l f ar for one of its users, J f u r t h e r agree Thad- permission -

f o r m u l t i p l e copying o f t h i s work f o r s c h o l a r l y purposes may be granted

by me o r the Dean o f Graduate Studies. I t i s understood t h a t copying

o r p u b l i c a t i o n o f t h i s work for f i n a n c i a l ga in s h a l l n o t be a l lawed

w i thou t my w r i ' t t e n permiss ion. _+ -

I

T i t l e o f Thesis/Project /Extended Essay

(da te )

Name: J a n e t Gil t row / Degree: Doctor o f Phi losophy

T i t l e of D i s s e r t a t i o n : North American Trave l Wr i t i ng

Examining Committee:

Chairperson: Paul Delany

David Stouck Sen io r Superv isor

I

P e t e r Bui tenhuis

Bruce N e s b i t t

Ahn ~ e s g e n g e r I n t e r n a l Examiner

P a t r i c i a Merivale E x t e r n a l Examiner P r o f e s s o r Department o f Engl i sh U n i v e r s i t y of B.C.

Date Approved: /kt3em~ea m7 b

North American Travel Wri ting

Abstract

This study focuses on the generic attr'ibutes of travel writing,

describing the development of rhetorical structures characteris t i c of this *

1 i terary form. The emphasis of the study i s twofold: i t considers the

social function of travel narration in i t s capacity to preserve the wri tel@*s

original cultural af f i l ia t ions during or a f te r his venture into an alien

place, and i t considers the application of the genre to the New World by

Europeans and North Americans, a n d by North Americans t o the Old World and

worlds newer s t i l l .

Travel narrative has a pre-eminent place in North American l j tera ture .

Befo~re 1600, a1 1 Engl ish-language North American l i t e ra tu re was travel

l i tera ture ; thereafter, the genre more than held its own, continuing to

transmit information about th is hemisphere t o distant audiences. Until

the nineteenth century , Canadian qnd U. S. travel wri t'ing shared common

l i t e ra ry ground. Descriptions of the continent by early voyagers form a

unified body of writing, and in the eighteenth century travenllers into e

part of the North American wilderness, from the Arctic to Florida, contr

very

i buted

to the developing 1 i terary ,imagea of the who1 e continent. Journey-makers

1 i ke Jonathan Carver, Samuel Hearne, Mi

shared a comnon documentary purpose and

lliam Bartram and Alexander Henry

their European readers were eager - for

Early in the nineteenth century, however, U.S. trayel wrlting s e t a

new course, as Washington lrving began the American reconnaissance of the

Old World and in i t ia ted a tradition carried forward by Heman MelvilTe,

i i i

i v -- - ---

Samuel Clemens, ~ i l i i a m Dean ~ & e l l s and Henry James. This study exami%s

both t h e u n i f i e d g i n S n g s OF Kortli AmerTan t r a m m t u r e and the --- 7

out -go i ng journeys of these important American wri ters . ?i Further, i t investigates the Canadian development of the genre. While .

h r i c a n s set out for foreign shores, Canadian travel narrative continued t o

flourish on i t s original basis, namely, t h a t of describing the New World t o

an audience elsewhere. Anna Jameson, Susanna Fktodie, Thomas Haliburton and

3utm Richardson a t ? postulate re8dm-s remote from the Cmadkm s-cmes they -

describe. 'In addressing a European audience, their travel a r t encourages W

their feel ings o f m d e r s h i p .in a cul tural cornrnuni t y far from the Canadian .mil ieu

in which they found themselves temporarily -- or, in some cases, permanently --

stranded. Yet, despite their pronounced feelings of alienation from Canadian

society, these writers are considered part of the Canadian 1 i terary tradition.

Conversely, Frances Trol lope, who visited the U.S. early in the nineteenth

century and wrote a b o u t the New World in a vein remarkably similar to t h a t

of Susanna Moodie a n d Anna Jamson, has no place in the American 1 i terary

heritage: she i s a British writer. ")

In one of i t s aspects, t h a t of reverent notation of the appearance of

natural forms, however, travel description unites nineteenth-century Canadian

and American 1 i terature. Catharine Parr Trai 11 and Henry David Thoreau both 4

- carry on the documentary tradi t i on whi ch the Phi 1 adel phi a natural i s t-

traveller Wi 11 i am Bartram brought t o maturity in the eigh-teenth century.

+ Most commentators cane t o travel narrative Gpecting to find +structures

similar to those of novel i s t i c narrative, for the travel genre does have -- - - - - - - - - - - -

some connectbns with fictional genres, despi te i t s informational pretext. - I t offers a protagonist (the traveller) and a plot (his itinerary). In

r'

the writihgs of Frances Brooke, S t . Jean de ~r&ecoeur, Howel 1s a n d . r <-- , * /

F. P. Grove, fiction and travel are-often curiously Snte~twined. Modern

- --- - -

cri t ics are often disconcerted by th% tr;vel genre's divagatory insistence

on 1 engthy exposi tion, b u t they persevere, 76okl'ng for incipl'ent ficS6ns

on which to base hermeneutic conmentary. However, this approach t o the

- travel genre discounts i t s form1 properties and i t s rhetorical attributes.

? This study seeks t o renew our sense o f a narrative genre now over-shadowed

by the novel b u t s t i l l essential t o our understanding of the development of

North American 1 i terature. Pt

- -

Table o f Conten ts

Approval

A b s t r a c t

f n t roduc t ion

Chapter 1 A "Great Liking and Comfort t o Hear Speak o f S t r ange Things": Travel N a r r a t i v e i n the Middl e Ages, the Renaissance and t h e Eighteenth Certttt ry

~ h a ; t e r 2 - "A S t r a n g e r and a1 one" i n Eighteenth-Century America: Madam Knight, William Byrd, S t . Jean ck C r h x o e u r and Wi 1 f iam Bartram

Chapter 3 Moving West: N a r r a t i v e s o f Jonathan Carver , Samuel Hearne, Alexander Henry and Daniel Harmon

Chapter 4 P a t t e r n s o f Travel i n Canadian Wvi t i n g : Frances Brooke, Anna Jameson, Thomas Hal ibur ton and John Richardson

Chapter 5 S t a y i n g On: Catha r ine P a r r T r a i l l , Susanna Moodi e and Frances T r o l l ope

Chapter 6 Towards Simple Nar ra t i ve and Natural Ut te rance : Washington I r v i n g and Henry Davi d Thoreau .

Chapter 7 Speaking Out: Travel and S t r u c t u r e i n t h e Ear ly Nar ra t i ve s o f Herman M e l v i l l e

Chapter 8 In Foreign P laces a t Home and Abroad: .Samuel Clemens, William Dean Howel 1 s and Henry James

Chapter 9 LatecComing: ~reder&k P h i l i p Grove

Sej ec t ed B i b l iography

L i s t o f ~ e ' c o n d a r y Uorks Ci ted

i i i

1

Introduction

1 The traveller returning from abroad has a story to t e l l . Once, his c.-, story-telling was a vehicle for knowledge of the universe, for he

&

brought important news to h i s home audience. He told of the prodigies he

had witnessed, of deserts o r abundance, of outlandish .peoples and exotic

practices. .He compared foreigh places to his homeland and remarked astonishing

contrasts .or instructive simi la r t t ies . He reckoned the magni tude %f the

natural world and took the moral measure of humarf' societies. Wi th his journey

and his tale he comnded attention.,

When he set out from familiar places t o coast remote shores or penetrate

unknown countries, the traveller engaged in one of the most p~ovocative of - ' . human ventures. And, l ike death or courtship or other eminent occasions i n

1 i f e , far travel generated a literary genre of i t s own, the travel book.

Constructed on rhetorical principles re1 ated t o the event they represented

and to their function of comnunicating information of a larger world, travel

books enjoyed a respectable- literary status and a ready audience. They - -

informed and entertained with curious. data and wonderful facts about an

unheard-of remoteness. They provided for a mental traffic between the

sedentary reader and foreign places he would never see. 'It i s not too much

to say that -the travel narrative relieved man o f his local.,. domestic i s o l a t i e ~

- ax-supplied JrirnwitL- cwduiLtcu3 Lexperience and-wery materid poss i hi1 ityt --

Only in the l a s t century, during which the information d office of

travel narrative has been usurped by other forms of communication, has i t

become a 1 i terary re1 i c. Forei gn correspondents, photographs, wire services

and other efficient vehicles for bringing home news made the l i t e ra l ,

( denotative functions of the genre obsolete, and the travel book lost it<

documentary status. In the meantime, we have become unpractised i n reading

long prose narratives w i t h a h i g h infonnationai content. For the twentieth-

century reader, travel books from other centuries present certain problps,

particularly i f that reader comes t o t h e m with modern ideas of proper I t- - .

narrative structure. The exposi tory components of tbe text are sometimes

so large and obtrusively instructive as t o be unpalatable to modern tastes;

digression and excursus obstruct narrative advance, undercut suspense and

delay outcomes; often, the data so meticulously collected are either patently

inaccurate or distorted by prejudice and ethnocentricity. If the modern

reader i s s t i l l +interested enough to continue, he will tend to rely on &

seemingly fictive signals from the tekt -- those portions which, for example, L

heighten or exaggerate the adventure, or which are introspective and

psychologically a1 1 usive. These narrati ve elements will encourage-him t o

expectations of novel i s t i c form and, a1 though the travel text will often

disconcert or disappoint hi" w i t h i t s perverse insistence on lengthy

informational exposi tion, he may s t i 11 find enough 'metaphorical significance {a

in theines o f lo urn eying md-voyagiftg ;tnd-enough of a plot i n the traveller 's

itinerary t o satisfy his appetite for fictions, or near-fictions. ' Q

B u t to read traveT books in this way, seeking incipient fictions, i s to W

overlook their special rhe character and their formal meaning. The R

meaning of their conten2 h a e now k n o ~ t o o mchabaut - --

1

the rest of the world or are now ourselves too well-travelled to feel the'

same agreeabTe astonishment which an eighteenth-century reader would have

f e l t when he read about the hegemony of the Hebrideans o r about domestic

customs of the Iroquois. ~ h & e i s considerable interest in, for instance,

7-

Joseph Baretti 's descriptions of' ei ghteefit-h-cen t<ry 16erla in Journey from j . .

. *

iondon. to Genoa, b u t more orderly, acc&ab i n d comprehe-nsi vd information . i s available from other source* 'modern 'or' historical. B u t if content has

i/- . .

changed in i t s si&ifkdnce, fdrm has no t . The h e b r i c a l structures of '

t avel barrative -- which are n o t the structureiSbf fj i t ional ,nqrrative --" - 5 . are permanent % . and apprehensible s t i l l . In this thesis I will gelcribe th; .

- - -L

A - - -- A A - -

conventional structures of the genre by analyzing some important instances fi

D .

of i t composed during a period when i t was, as a 1 iterary form, mature and %

- current.

f The traveller 's tale-tell ing i s so ancient and continuous a human

6

practice as to override eras and epochs. However, during certain periods

of modern history, cu1 tura! and economic condi t i ons coincided to bring the -

travel genre into 1 i terary prominence. One such period was the late Middle

Ages, when the dwi ndl i ng tradi tion of crusadiq travels dovetai 1 ed wi t h

the comnercial and missionary journeys of the Polos, Odoric, Carpini and

others across Eurasia. In Chapter 1 , I wi 11 discuss ~andevi 1 l e i s Travels

(1356), a bri l l iant example in .English of eastern travel narrative of the

peridd. The next great Gut-going thrust was made by Elizabethan voyagers

and i n Chapter 1 I wil I also considey some of their narratives as they

relate to North America. By the late seventeenth century, the business of *

English voyaging was in full swing and in the eighteenth century British

m ~ a n ti 1-ism made travel a comnercial ly- and poli t ically estimble - . - -

- - enterprise, and the -travelJerl s news- o f markets andmateriak ws3s

pertinent t o the economic as t o the l i h r a r y and intellectual l i f e of the

nation. A t the same time, tourism had become a popular activity among

the educated classes. The en1 i ghtened travel lers who l e f t ,En91 and to

perform the continental Grand Tour published an extraordinarily voluminous

- . . W r y of their adventures through a verikable deluge of le t te rs , memoirs and

exhaustive observations. The practice of high tourism became the practice

of a certain type of 1 i terary art, the principles of which I will describe in . "

Chapter 1. North American' travel wri t ' ing *has i ts origins i n these phases B. , \

of the genre, and i n subsequent chapters I will show that many of the -#

narrat-jdve praetlces evident in a work as early as Mandeville's Trwefs and ' - - - - A - A - -- ---2 La- -- - -- --- --

in- El i zabethan accounts of the New, World persisted i n our 1 i'teratuye and that

beva lues of literarykGrand Tourism had a determining influence on travel. C

a r t i n North America. -

m ' Insofar as the traditions o f travel a r t are traceable, they are

interesting t o students of l i terature. B u t they. have a greater claim on

our attention t h a n their continuity, f o r travel narrative has a pre-eminent

place i n North M r i c a n l i terary history.. Before 1600, a1 1 North h r i c a n

1 i terature was travel 1 i teratuke and i n subsequent centuries the travel'

genre rmre than he1 d' i t s own. After a1 1 , the New Worf d was an ideal arena

for documentary a r t and t6ere was much t o recommend this hemisphere to

readers o f travels? North America's imnense regions of undocumented

curiosities and undenoted topography appealed to the general taste for

scientific investigation i n the l a t e seventeenth century and the eighteenth f

century. The spectacle of embryonic governments adjacent to aboriginal

cornunities provided a field-test for emergent theories of hunan society as

we17 as ideas ari primitivism, Further, tlFe measiEIGss w i l & ~ ~ ~ ~ of k r t h - .

travel l em,

for the sub

- pleasing t o

&m=%zwere r r~ t -e f ia~st~d by t h ~ m33r t'tve- 1 ' n q u i ~ T e ~ o f e Ig-fXwnth-cen t u r y --

for they supp l i ed fine opportunities for the solitary contemplation

Tim i n nature, inspiring sentimental and m n t i c excitement

writers and readers af travels i n the la te r eighteenth century

- , ,

ard the nineteenth century. Here was news indeed,

I n mj discussion of North American travel writ ing, I have not confined h

myself to one o r another case - - native Europeans t rave l l ing i n the New

h r l d , f o r example, or North Americans touring Jhei r own continent. Rather L

I have cmsidered any tex t e l i g i b l e which i s q product of travel in North .* *

k r i c a . gowever, a second p r i n ~ f ple of Glec t ion came in to play as I ,*T&%

cmtinued my study of the travel genre, . lnmthe nineteenth century, some

' 1 lus t r ious tour i s t s and Voyagers -- Washington Irving, Herman Melville,

Samuel Clemens, Wi 1 1 iam Dean Howel 1s -- le$t America to travel abroad The

tJew X o r l d had become a ~ o i n t of departure for inquir ies in to the Old World

a n d in to worlds newer s t i l l .' I have included a number of tex ts which

~ u b l i s h the findings o f these t rave l le rs Q - - for they contributed to the

4ev~looment of the genre and are an important aspect of North American #

1 s terary history -- b u t the central focus of my thes is i s on the l i t e r a r y

documentation of Canada and h e r i c a in the eighteenth and nineteenth

centuries . Some of the wri ters I have dizcussed have been the subject ,

of extensive c r i t i c a l comnentary, b u t t h e i r works, to th i s point, have

n ~ t been generically analyzed as travel narrative. Other wr i t e r s , obscure +

or 1 i ttle-known, I have chosen f o r t h e i r vivid and successful application

o f the conventions of travel narrat ive; analysis of the i r works contributes

t o a theory o f the genre. I n se lec t ing editions fo r study, I have chosen those

tRxts which are widely r e a d and widely available. For some authors --

Y!! l ? a n Byrd, Thoreau, H e m n Me1 v i l l e , f o r instance -- ava i l ab i l i t y coigcides

d i f f t autfroritat-iveness. For other authors ;- Thomas Hatiburton and

I P ~ S Jawson, f o r instance -- the best known versions of the i r works are not,. - .

textga?Ty authentic. !n these cases, 1 have s e t t l e d f o r those edi t ions on

rr*:cr the w r i t e r ' s mdem reputation r e s t s .

I have not attempted a comprehensive survey of the genre'. Many travel

books which were inf luent ia l in t h e i r time, both to t h e i r audience and to

bracti t ioners of the genre, I have neglected. For example, Basil Hal l ' s - . Travels in North America (1829) and Thomas Hamil ton 's Men and Manners i n

**3 America (1833) were widely read in t h e i r time and known to wri ters whose

work I have considered i n t h i s study. Nevertheless, the typical a t t i t udes

and impressions they voice can be analyzed to bette; p r o f i t in a m r e l ive ly 1

and readable book 1 i ke Frances Troll ope's Domestic Manners of the Americans

( l832) , which I have discussed in de ta i l . A1 though many of the tex ts I have

included a re the work of wri ters whose s t e l l a r reputations a re independent

of the i r travel wri t ing, l i t e r a r y reputation was not a determining fac tor

i n my system of se lec t ion . For instance, Charles Dickens' American Notes .

(1 842) i s undoubtedly of great i n t e r e s t to Dickensians, b u t as a travel

book i t i s somewhat lac&lustre. Dickens does not appear to have been

rad ica l ly inspired by his transportation and he performs a s e r i e s - o f

perfunctory comparisons between the United .States and England b$ way of

constructing a travel book. He does not make the genre his own a s , say,

Herman Melville does in Typee and Redburn. A' y principles of selection have

been a t many points subjective -and evaluative, and my thes is i s his tor ical

only insofar as analysis reauired the reconstruction of the conventions and

assumptions of a now nearly-obsolete 1 i terary form, and insofar as I have

t r i ed to indicate both the development and the decadence of the genre through

these centuries.

Travel narra t i ve proceeds - 1

o f t ravels has been separated

from a definable social occasion: the

from his cul tural habi ta t and

f o r e i g n s i t e s ; he has undergone a term abroad where he was an a l i e n and a

st ranger; he i s home again. The r h e t o r i c a l s i t u a t i o n fo l lows from t h e

s o c i a l occasion: on h i s r e t u r n the n a r r a t o r addresses the community o f

which he i s a member on the s u b j e c t of places and s o c i e t i e s fo re ign t o h im

and t o h i s audience. H is n a r r a t i o n i s t h e verbal s i gna l o f h i s r e i n -

corpora t ion i n t o h i s n a t i v e m i l i e u , f o r he w i thho lds h i s commentary u n t i l

h i s re tu rn : h i s d iscourse i s never addressed t o i t s sub jec t . He t e l l s

where he has been and what he has seen d u r i n g the fo re ign i n t e r v a l i n such

exhaust ive d e t a i l as t o r e c o n s t r u c t the whole and e n t i r e shape of t h i s

p e r i o d o f estrangement. Noth ing goes w i t h o u t saying: dates, hours, d is tances,

weather, d i e t , expend i tu re and numberless o t h e r d e t a i 1 s mus t be reg i s te red .

Travel seems n o t j u s t t o i n v i t e b u t t o compel t h i s k i n d o f comprehensive

expos i t ion . The audience wants t o hear a l l about t h i s remote elsewhere, and

the t r a v e l l e r wants t o t e l l a1 1 . I n a way, the n a r r a t i o n i t s e l f r e p a i r s

the breach which occur red when one group member was estranged from h i s

community. The p u b l i c a t i o n o f t he p r e c i s e na ture of h i s venture and t h e

i n t r o d u c t i o n o f every d e t a i l o f h i s whereabouts du r ing the t ime he was

absent compensate f o r t h e a1 i e n a t i on he has experienced. Often, r--*

conspicuous p a t r i o t i s m re in fo rces t h e w r i t e r ' s f ee l i ngs of membership i n

and assures him of a sympathet ic r e c e p t i o n

a r e the mode of t r a v e l c o m e n t a r y which most

the s o c i e t y t o which he r e t u r n s

by h i s home audience.

Co l l ec t i ons o f 1 etters-home

c1 e a r l y demonstrates the s o c i a l

the absentee's p lace a t home, s

have been tempora r i l y rup tured.

func t ions of the genre. L e t t e r s reserve

i m u l a t i n g the f a c e - t o - f w e connect ions t h a t

As they r e c o n s t r u c t verba l l y the w r i t e r ' s

at1 en experience, they reintroduce him into the fami 1 iartworld he l e f t - ;-F7 -

b e k i d . Himy t ravel books a re cas t i n the form ofs+ se r i e s o f l e t t e r s to

an actual or f i c t i v e recipient . Others take the Form of a log or journal

composed with minute regular i ty for the benefit of home readers. In travel -2

narrative where.these s t ruc tures a r e not exp l i c i t , exposition nevertheless

performs the same rhetor ical function of accounting for every phase and

aspect of the wr i t e r ' s absence. While the t r ave l l e r i s abroad ,' ordinary

personal relat ionships a r e suspended and only ebhemeral attachments can

occur i n t h e i r stead. To replenish t h i s void, the t r a v e l l e r resor t s t o

le t te r -wr i t ing , t o journalizing, o r , ambitiously, to narration. Written

language then stands in for eyery other form of social relatedness and

social transaction.

Perhaps the c leares t way of i l l u s t r a t i n g th i s social s i tua t ion would be

t o re fer to the peculiar l i ngu i s t i c predicament of t h e t r a v e l l e r i n a . - 2 P ,'

foreign 1 and, _ Not only does he not understand or scarcely understand the

foreign language usages around him, b u t he a l so has d i f f i cu l ty in making

himself understood. He i s 1 i nguist ical ly a1 ienated; his feelings and I

a t t i t udes a r e inexpressible for *his codes of expression are 'unintel l i g ib l e 3'

t o those around him. In the matter of self-expression, then, he has recourse

only t o the l inguistic; comnunity he 'has l e f t behind. Language, however, i s

only one aspect of cul tural ident i ty and relatedness, a1 be i t an extremely

important one. We will discover in the writings of Europeans i n NoFth

America tha t even Engl ish-spea kers could find themselves incommunicado,

t h e i r accustomed cul tural usages having no currency. In reassuring I

/ 1

themsel ves of the i r continued rnembersh

can be very pronounced indeed in t h e i r

a t t i t udes and habits. Away from home,

i p i n a d is tan t society, t rave l le rs

expression of native cul tural -- .+c -

we perhaps most emphatically declare

our national provenance and ident i t y .

The conventions of travel narrative are all attributable t o the social

occasion and rhetorical situation I have described. I n the f i r s t place,

in the matter of narrative opening and closure, the writer's itinerary

determines the duration as well as the sequence of the narrative. Typically,

the ship weighs anchor, or the door closes behind the venturer, and the story

begins. The duration of the narrative i s only as long as the journey, for .- when land i s sighted and final disembarkation i s foreseeable the story i s

over. What went on before the journey or w h a t will happen after may excite L

the reader's curiosity, particularly i f he has expectations of novel i s t i c

form, b u t travel narrative rarely concedes any sati sfactory hints. Travel

is an exceptional, extraordinary experience, set apart from thec usual run of

things, and the literary version of travel i s similarly discreet. The

travel writer can be sure of his audience's attention i f he writes of

exotica and foreignness ; beyond t h a t his 1 icense i s curtailed. Secondly,

travel comnentary thrives on generalization. Convincing formulations phich

appear t o represent large-scale t r u t h must come from the brief prospect of

the tourist, and the few particulars available t o him. The travel writer

(and his audience) must be willing to allow one case t o stand for many:

national preconceptions and even bias and prejudice are often useful to the

traveller in orienting himself abroad. This rhetoric of generalization and

swi ftly-conceived judgement i s a corollary of the travel l e r ' s social status.

away from home. He i s , after a l l , an alien. He i s socially and culturally

remote from his subject, he has no intimate familiarity with i t , and he will

n o t st&y t o corroborate his f i r s t impression. Indeed, he must not be >

detained by his inquiry, for then heloses the detachment and objectivity

which a l l o w the qu ick , i n c i s i v e i n s i g h t s of t he un imp l i ca ted observer. His I '?

6

m o b i l i ty i s e s s e n t i a l t o h i s v i s i o n and his%, f o r once he l i n g e r s f o r a 1

profounder view, he begins t o be ass im i la ted by t h e fo re ign e n v i r o n k n t and 4 1

t

t o adopt i t s ways, and he begins t o q u a l i f y h i s judgements. He c e a s q t o b q !

a t r a v e l l e r and becomes an e x p a t r i a t e . A t t h a t p o i n t , h i s t r a v e l - r e a d i n g : t

audience w i l l dese r t h im and g i ve up hope o f h i s r e t u r n . t I \

Th i rd , the t r a v e l w r i t e r must and w i l l c l a i m authent i .c i t y and v e r a c i t y t

f o r h i s p r o j e c t , f o r h i s a r t %documentary. The t r a v e l genre depends fdr

i t s r h e t o r i c a l success on the i n t e r e s t of l j t e r a l t r u t h and the c r e d u l i t y

of i t s audience. A f o u r t h c o n d i t i o n o f t r a v e l n a r r a t i v e , however, can

impinge on documentary purpose: t h e development o f t he genre i n the l a s t

h a l f o f ' the e igh teenth cen tu ry imposed on t h e l i t e r a r y t r a v e l l e r an

o b l i g a t i o n t o form some evocat ive , personal r e l a t i o n t o the fo re ign p lace.

Necessar i ly , t h i s cou ld n o t be a s o c i a l o r c u l t u r a l connect ion, and i t was

1 i k e l y t o be an a e s t h e t i c o r sent imental connect ion -- what Samuel Johnson

c a l l e d " l o c a l emotion" when he toured the Hebrides. I t became necessary

t h a t ' t h e con j u n c t i o n o f s i g h t and seer produce some exp ress ib le sent iment .

he' occasional , a d v e n t i t i o u s enthusiasms o f e a r l i e r , l e s s ' soph is t i ca ted r

journey-makers were no longer s u f f i c i e n t . The s i g h t s e e r had now t o respond

t h o u g h t f u l l y and f e e l i n g l y t o n a t u r a l and human spectacles, and the success ' *

of h i s composi t ion depended on h i s a b i l i t y t o convey imag ina t i ve sent iments

and moral a t t i tudes w i t h o u t j e o p a r d i z i n g h i s 1 i t e r a l in fo rmat iveness.

The t r a v e l w r f t e r had to k able to j u s t i f y h i s documnt on t h e grounds

o f i t s o r i g i n a l i t y . C l a s s i c a l l y , he made t h i s c l a i m on the bas is of t h e

uncommonness of his experience: he had travelled fa r , t o heretofore

unknown o r unremarked places. - B u t the development of the genre coincided

w i t h the burgeoning tourism of the upper and middle classes, and, by the

nineteenth century; few routes were so unfrequented as to allow the A

traLel l e r t o hold his audience's attention purely on the ground of te l l ing

far-fetched news. 'More and more he had to turn t o the uniqueness of his

personal j o u r n h - i the noveTty and freshness of his responses, the justness i/

of his. speculations ,' the subtlety of his perceptions -- to

Exploration and discovery became ri tual actions, performed

for the traditional courses of those who had gone before.

became metaphor, a1 though s ti 11 enacted 1 i teral ly , and the

claim originality.

with reverence -

The journey

travel genre

reached heights of meaning. B u t th is flowering was harbinger of the genre's

gecadence. Once travel narrative ceased to serve the basic human need for

news of the universe, the genre degenerated, eventually losing i t s

informational content t o the "travelogue" and some techno1 ogical ly-advanced

modes of communication and losing i t s figurative component to fictions of 0

t ravel . The objective and subjective elements of i t s exposition were

irreversibly divorced, no longer capable of being held together by the c ra f t

of artful documentation. That f ru i t fu l union :of the 1 i teral with the allusive d

did not survive the modern will to keep chaste and separate information

and 1 i tera ture.

In their prime, d u r i n g the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, travel

narrative and i t s conventions kept a strong hold on North American prose.

Even when other.genres o r modes were deliberately invoked by writers -- as

the epistolary novel by Frances Brooke in The History of Emily ltjontagu

(1769), s o c i a l and p o l i t i c a l s a t i r e i n Thomas H a l i b u r t o n ' s The Clockmaker

- (1836), au tob iograph ica l memoir i n Samuel Clemens' L i f e on t h e M i s s i s s i p p i '

(1883) -- the prose s t r u c t u r e s o f t r a v e l n a r r a t i v e e rup ted and showed

theme1 ves. Major works o f some impor tant Canadian w r i t e r s -- Hal i burton,

Susanna Moodie, Cathar ine Par r T r a i l 1, Freder ick Ph-il i p Grove -- and some

impor tan t American w r i t e r s -- Washington !Irving, Henry avid Thoreau, Herman

Melv i 1 l e y Samuel Clemens -- d i v u l g e f u r t h e r meanings when viewed i,n the

l i g h t o f t he conventi30ns o f t r a x e l n a r r a t i v e and when considered i n concer t

w i t h the w r i t i n g s o f out-and-out t r a v e l l e r s and t o u r i s t s 1 i k e M i l 1 iam

Bartram, Samuel Hearne, Anna Jameson and Frances T ro l lope.

The t r a v e l n a r r a t o r assumes a p a r t i c u l a r s tance towards t h e wor ld. He

i s alone, a s o l i t a r y f i g u r e aga ins t an al- ien backdrop. Bu t h i s i s o l a t i o n

has a counterpoise i n t h e a f f i n i t y he f e e l s w i t h the c u l t u r e ' h e addresses -- an a f f i n i t y sometimes amounting t o homesickness and sometimes voiced i n

vehement n a t i o n a l p r i d e . Even a t t h e most remote quar te rs o f t h e ear th , a

home e x e r t s a magnetic a t t r a c t i o n and t r a v e l n a r r a t i v e advances inexo rab ly

towards a diinouement o f homecoming'. Some t r a v e l w r i t e r s , hav ing embarked, a

e

never g e t home again. Mrs. Moodie, Grove and john Richardson were thus

immobi l i zed i n f o r e i g n par ts . Others, l i k e M e l v i l l e and Mrs. Tro l lope, a re s

i n t o l e r a b l y . delayed a long t h e i r way. Nevertheless, t h e idea of g e t t i n g e

home cont inues t o s t r u c t u r e and i n s p i r e n a r r a t i v e . I n i t s c i r c u l a r i t y and

i t s sense o f t h e round t r i p , t r a v e l n a r r a t i v e d i f i e r s -from 1 i t e t a t u r e posed

- on a quest theme, f o r i t s goal i s i t s p o i n t o'f departure. When the one-way

journey of permanent immigra t ion i s t h e ac tua l ' expertence o f t h e w r i t e r b u t

r o u n d - t r i p t r a v e l remains h i s i d e a l o f a due course, hi.s consequent a r t i s .

o f t e n po i gnapt w i t h disappointment and unresolvable a1 l e n a t i o n .

Feelings of estrangement and al ienat ion, in some degree, a re

necessarily associated wi e h departures into the unknown. In North h e r i ca,

a1 ienation took on a par t icu lar ra t iona le : for many of these wri ters in i

the travel mode what they saw as North American materia.lism offered nei ther c, , s t a tus noy securi ty , only more or less overt th rea ts to t h e i r self-esteem

and native values. From the writings of S t . Jean de Crsvecoeur in the

eighteenth cea tury through those of Susanna Moodie, Frances Troll ope,

John Richardson, Henry James and F.P. Grove i n the nineteenth and twentieth

centuries , we find t h a t the c a m c i t y t o ge t on economically (which meant

soc ia l ly in the mono1 i t h i c cul ture of New World material ism) i s incompatible

with a r t i s t i c g e n s i b i l i ty . Typically, these wri ters f$el alienated from the

North American socio-economic s t ruc ture and this i s f i t t i n g , f o r in travel f

a r t the a r t i s t i s always in a social minority, often a minority of one. He

ex i s t s in contrast t o o r i n opposition to the indigenous population and is

frequently a severe c r i t i c of i t s t a s t e s and practices. Of course, he does

not look to th i s Phil i s t i n e , sometimes only semi-1 i t e r a t e , population for

an audience for his a r t . The travel a r t i s t achieves feelings of belonging

only through his communications to a sympathetic and receptive society

el sewhere.

The east-to-west version of trans-Atlantic travel a r t held i t s ground

longer in Canada than i n the United States . In Canada, wri ters l i k e Rrs.

r-loodie, John Richardson and Grove whom we sow

figures in our 1 i t e r a ry t r ad i t ion , as we1 1 as

and Anna Jameson &om we welcome a s permanent

- - read and regard as central

wri t e r s 1 i ke Frances Brooks a \

guests , a1 1 exemplify i n t h e i r

writing the east-west motion of travel and the notion of t h e i r t r u e audience

3

i - being elsewhere than here. In the United Sta tes , ent out again

with t h i s hemisphere as a point of departure as I rving 's

Sketchbook (1819) and flourished in the hands of !lelvil le, Howells, Clemens

and James. Now tha t t he travel genre has, as I shall argue, declined into

obsolescence, t ha t avenue of l i t e r a r y out-going may be permanently closed

o f f . Perhaps some other far-sjghted l i t e r a r y form will suggest the way. In

the United Sta tes , ce r t a in ly , l i t e r a r y reconnaissance of Europe and other f

f ron t i e r s accompanied a growth and securing of natiodiil i den t i ty and even-

contributed t o i t s real izat ion by a1 lowing American wri ters t o t e s t " the i r

native assumptions and sensi bil i t i e s agai nst foreign cul tural systems. On . the other hand, a1 1 of tha t may be a s obsolete as the travel genre i t s e l f . ,

Travel 1 i t e ra ture has not gone enti re ly unremarked by twentieth-century

c r i t i c s . A1 though there has been no full-sc,ale survey of the genre, cer ta in

phases of i t s development and application have received'expert a t ten t ion .

Sources of information can be categorized as follows: f i r s t , ed i tor ia l

commentary in various anthologies of travel writing. Louis B. W r i g h t , for

instance, i n his The Elizabethans' America provides sound information on the

circumstances and purposes of the documents he has coll ected. Similarly ,

Farton Zabel ' s introduction t o The Art of Travel : Scenes and Journeys

from the Travel Writings of Henry James of fers thoughtful insights into the

travel genre. Second, and in the same 1 ine, a re the numerous and 4 author i ta t ive reprints and modepn editions of c l a s s i c travel narrat ive,

most importantly those produced under the aegis of the Hakluyt soclety.

Taken together, the ed i tor ia l iwork in these volumes f i l l s in many gaps in

our knowledge of the genre, for Hakluyt Society edi tors a r e always thorough

--

and s c h o l a r l y as w e l l as 'devout i n t h e i r reverence f o r voyage documentary.

A1 so, h i s t o r i c a l surveys 1 i ke Raymond 9eazl ey' s Dawn o f Modern Geography

have much t o t e l l us about t h e q u a l i t y and development o f documentary

1 i t e r a t u r e and about t h e ways o f impor tan t t r a v e l 1 e r s o f t h e past . Th i rd ,

t h e r e i s a growing number o f d iscuss ions o f t r a v e l and t r a v e l 1 i t e r a t u r e *

i n r e l a t i o n t o t h e canon o f m e o r another major au thor . John L i v i n g s t o n \-

Lowes' The Road t o Xanadu has been an i n s p i r a t i o n t o commentators who

f o l l o w t h i s course. Three works i n p a r t i c u l a r a re r e l e v a n t t o t h i s s tudy :

George P!. Kahr l ' s Tobias S m o l l e t t , Travel er-Novel i s t , Thomas 11. Cu r ley ' s

Samuel Johnson and t h e Age o f Trave l , and John A l d r i c h C h r i s t i e ' s Thoreau J

as World Trave ler . Four th, and much l e s s r e l e v a n t t o t h i s d iscuss ion , a r e

works t r e a t i n g t r a v e l and voyaging as a l i t e r a r y theme r a t h e r t han as a

1 i t e r a r y form.

Not a l l i n f o r m a t i o n o f t he t r a v e l genre i s piecemeal. E s p e c i a l l y I

p e r t i n e n t t o t h i s s tudy a r e R.W. Frantzls,The Eng l i sh T r a v e l l e r and t h e

Movement o f Ideas, 1660-1 732 and Evelyn Page's American Genesis : Pre-

Co lon ia l f i t i n g i h t h e North. F r a n t z ' s book exhaus t i ve l y rev iews t h e P

voyage l i t e r a t u r e o f t h e pe r iod .and descr ibes t h e i n f l u e n c e o f Deism, t h e

New Science and t h e Royal Soc ie t y on t r a v e l w r i t e r s and t h e i r t e x t s . Frantz

succeeds i n p l a c i n g t h e genre c u l t u r a l l y , showing bo th t h e r e f l e c t i o n o f

contemporary ideas i n t r a v e l n a r r a t i v e s o f t h e t i m e and t h e e f f e c t o f

t r a v e l n a r r a t i v e on Engl i s h thought . Voyagers, he main ta ins , became

" a u x i l i a r y s c i e n t i s t s ," agents o f i n q u i r y i n t o systems o f government, be1 i e f

and community 3s w e l l as i n t o t h e charac ter o f t h e phys i ca l un iverse . The

in f luences he i d e n t i f i e s were l ong - las t i ng , p e r s i s t i n g w e l l i n t o t h e

n ine teen th century .

Evelyn page's k e r i c a n Genesis s u r v e ~ s s v o y a ~ a i l T d i s c o v e r y n a r r a t i v e

r e l a t i n g t o ~ o & ~ m e r i c a between 1493 and t h e e a r l y 1600's. Her book . . must be considered seminal for, ,as she h e r s e l f s t resses , l i t e r a r y commentary

on American w r i t i n g b e f o r e 1700 i s minimal and b e f o r e 1600 a lmost 1

Page cons iders documents i n French, Portuguese and Spanish as well *as

Engl i sh , o r g a n i z i n g her d i scuss ion according t o her ideas o f t h e development

of t h e voyage genre i n Nor th 'America and i t s eventual t ransmutat i-on irrtrr

t h e s h o r t s t o r y form. T i s i s where we beg in t o r u n i n t o t r o u b l e , f o r Page's '1 values a r e c l e a r l y l i t e r a b (as F r a n t z ' s a r e h i s t o r i c a l ) and 1 i t e r a r y i n

t h e sense o f cherishing. i d a g i n a t i v e product ions over f a c t u a l composit ions.

For example, i n c o n s i d e r i n g Capta in John Smith 's General1 H i s t o r i e o f <

t

V i r g i n i a , Mew-England, a n d t h e Summer I s l e s (1624) and t h e famous s t o r y i .-

t h e r e i n o f Pocahontas' rescue o f Smith, Page comes up a g a i n s t t h e problem '

o f a u t h e n t i c i t y and she r e s o l j e s i t thus : "Fact o r f i c t i on ( , whether w r i t t e n r

by Smith o r by i t s purpor ted au thors , dead-long-since 'Thomas S tud ley ' and

the r e s t , t h e anecdote i s f o r dramat ic purposes t r u e . The v a l i d i t i e s o f

h i s t o r y cannot des t roy i t s v a l i d i t y a? 1 i t e r a t u r e . " ' The idea o f a verbal

r e a l i t y e x i s t i h g independent ly o f a phys i ca l o r h i s t o r i c a l r e a l i t y i s

a t t r a c t i v e and one f o r which I w i l l l a t e r argue. However, Page's a e s t h e t i c

s t o favour t h e "dramat ic " t r u t h o f 1 i t e r a t u r e ove r h i s t o r i c a l t r u t h , . . , I

when t h e l a t t e r appears i n e ioquent documentary t e x t s , and her argument

fo r t h e development o f t h e voyage form i n t o t h e s h o r t s t o r y n a t u r a l l y p r e f e r s

evidence of f i c t i o n - m a k i n g aver evidence of r e s p o n s i b i l e r e p o r t i n g . La ter , ..

i n de l i b e r a t i n g on t h e provenance o f t h e Pocahontas anecdote, Page assesses

Smith 's s t a t u r e a4 a w r i t e r : "If t h e Pocahontas s t o r y i s a s lpw growth o f

t h e imag ina t ion , t hen Smith i s e n t i t l e d t o h i s a c t o f c r e a t i o n . If he mere ly

awakens l a t e t o i t s p o s s i b i l i t i e s , then h i s c r e d i t i s l e s s " (137-38). I f

2- t

smith invented the s to ry , he did wonders; i f not, he d i d no more than can

be expected.. In any case, t h i s kind of 1 i te rary evaluation of travel writing

depends on know1 edge of extra-textual events (or non-events) j u s t as much

as the his tor iqn ' s judgment does.

, . Travel l i t e r a t u r e , w i t h i t s showy orlgins i n actual occasions, i s .

grappled over by historians and l i t e r a r y c r i t i c s . Historians and geographers '

revere the tex ts for t h e i r comprehensiveness, t h e i r f i d e l i t y to a recoverable 1 *

r e a l i t y , and t h e i r overall dependabil i t y as denotative utterance. Li twary - %

f

c r i t i c s , meanwhile, s take out t h e i r own t e r r i t o r y , making t h e i r claimeon the

grounds of apparent omissions , exaggerations and inventions. The his tor ian

i s indignant and resentful when he finds tha t he hag been hoodwinkedY2 b u t \

the l i t e r a r y c r i t i c i s delighted and se t s t o work immediately to announce

the discovery of a heretofore undetected romance o r fantasy or all4gory. . -

Neither approach does who1 e ju s t i ce t o these, documents, a1 though

cer ta in ly historians have been. so f a r most persevering and scholarly i n

t h e i r s tudies of travel narrative. The 1 i te rary c r i t i c has here an

opportunity to bring t o 'bear on a la rge , coherent, conventional body of

writ ing techniques for analysis of rhetorical s t ruc tu re , narrat ive

organization, and the relat ionship of wri ter t o audience. I have t r i e d to

make the most of t h i s opportunity in my thesis a t the same time as I have

borrowed from his tor ians t h e i r reverence for documentary prose and the

preservation of an ephemeral actual i t y in language. - -

-

Notes

Introduction

I Evelyn Page, American Genesis : Pre-Colonial Writing i n the North

(Boston: Gambit, 1973), p. 135. Z An instance of the contempt f e l t by an his tor ian towards t h e

~rornulgation of fantasy in documentary form can be found in an aloof note +

the spurious "Discou~r-ie" of Wicolto Zmg in the Hakfuyt Society's modern' . 8 edi t ion of Richard Hakfuyt's Divers Voyages touching the Discovery of-

America, ed. John Winter Jones : "The object of the Hakl uyt Society i s to

extend the knowledge of the bold and energetic and successful e

ea r ly discoverers, not t o bring prominently forward clumsy -camp - ?I, -

and absurd f i c t ions . For th i s reason, no attempt has been made

i l a t ions /

to distinguish i_ i

by annotation the pFobably t rue from the "cr ta in ly f a l se i n the above

narrat ive" (p. 90) .

Chapter 1 -

A "Great t i k i n q and Comfort t o Hear Speak o f Strange J

Things" : Travel N a r r a t i v e i n t h e Fliddl e I

Ages, t h e Renaissance and t h e E igh teenth Century

Travel n a r r a t i v e appears e a r l y i n t h e h i s t o r y o f prose l i t e r a t u r e i n

English- The f i r s t major instance o f t he form i s ~ n d e v i l l e ' s Trave ls ,

p robab ly composed i n 1356 by an Engljshman, S i r John Mandev i l le , w r i t i n g i n

I French. The e a r l i e s t s tandard Engl i s h t r a n s l a t i o n s ex tan t , known as t h e

Co t ton and Egerton Panuscr ip ts , seem bo th t o have been produced between 1410

and 1820.

I n respec t t o t h e development o f t h e t r a v e l genre, Mandevil l e i s Trave ls

i s an extremely impor tan t work. It enjoyed wide c i r c u l a t i o n i n t h e

f i f t e e n t h - c e n t u r y ; i t mbod ies many o f t he endur ing aspects o f t r a v e l

n a r r a t i v e ; i t i s c e r t a i n l y t h e most s i g n i f i c a n t i ns tance o f t h e genre t o

appear i n Eng l i sh i n t h i s per iod . Fur ther , t h e book had a n o t a b l e l o n g e v i t y .

I t s w p u l a r i t y was renewed w i t h Llynkyn de Worde's q r i n t e d v e r s i o n i n 1499 6"

@ again w i t h ex tens i ve chapbook p u b l i c a t i o n i n t h e e igh teen th cen tu ry -- a

p e r i o d o f spec ia l re levance t o t h i s d i scuss ion o f No r th American t r a v e l

Mandev i l l e ' s Trave ls has, o f course, no th ing t o say about Nor th America.

Rather, i t looks eastward. The f i r s t p a r t o f t h e bookaconcerns i t s e l f w i t h

tne Ho ly Land, r e f l ec t i ng , n a t u r a l l y enough, t h e most impor tan t a v w u e o f

f o r e i g n t r a v e l f o r Hestern Europeans i n t h e Midd le Ages. However, by t h e

tine t2andevi l l e wrote, Levant ine p i lg r images had passed t h e i r z e n i t h irs a

w e - m i n e n t fom o f rnobil i t y . I n The Dawn o f Hodern ~eography , Raymond

19

Beazley descr ibes both t h e soc ia l and l i t e r a r y s t a t u r e of 'Holy Land * .

pi1 grimages in Europe cu l t u r e . As mercanti le motives f o r t rave l superseded

what Beazl ey c a l l s t h e "sentimental" purposes of crusading journeys, " t he

Eastern pilgrimages became of l e s s and l e s s importance; they were performed ( , .

by a humbler and-more ignorant and supe r s t i t i ous c l a s s : I

century the 'Information fo r Pilgrims' and s imi la r works

lowest of people; and in the s ix teen th century t he hab i t

r a r e . "' Mandevill e ' s Travels i s a t imely book indeed ' in

- i n t h e f i f t e e n t h

c a t e r f o r t h e

was comparatively

t h a t i t b e g i n s by .

recap i tu la t ing a formerly dominant route of t ravel and then moves forward

i n to t h e new d i r ec t i on of t rave l from Europe, e a s t t o t h e Mongol empire.

Hhi1 e h i s book goes f a r -- near ly as f a r as poss ible - - Mandeville

himse f may not have gone to such lengths . His Travels i s e n t i r e l y a 4 compilation, derived ch i e f l y from Vincent of Beauvais' th i r t een th-cen tury ,

encyclopedic Speculum ?lundi and from the t ravel nar ra t ive of Odoric of

Pordenone, a f r i a r 'who made h i s way t o Peking ea r ly in the four teenth century.

Scholars have discovered the sources of a l l b u t a very few pages of

Mandevil 1 e ' s Travels and have shown t h a t , while Vincent of Eeauvais and

Odoric a r e h i s most f u l l y exploited a u t h o r i t i e s , Mandevill e ravaged nearly

every ava i l ab l e source of information on t h e geocosm to , make h i s book. The

f i r s t g rea t English t rave l nar ra to r turns ou: t o have been an adventurous

and heroic reader r a t h e r than a' heroic journey-maker.

What gives t h i s compilation t h e a i r of an au then t i c , f i r s thand narra t ion?

The answer l i e s i n t h e character of both i t s - c o n t e n t and i t s s t ruc tu r e .

K T t b u g h lifandevl'lle' wr i t es about mons t ros i t i es , magic and miracles , he makes

no radical departure from r e a l i t y i n to fantasy. F i r s t , he has au thor i ty fo r

t h e s t range phenomena he descr ibes . Only d e t a i l s a r e his own invention; f o r

the- r e s t he i s authorized by his Sources and by accepted notions of the

marvellous. Second, and most important, he keeps in touch with the ac tua l i ty

of medieval transportation and w i t h the kind of material information which

genuine travels would have revealed. He comments on local produc% -- crops,

:gems, timber, resins - - and he h s e s on the conditions of t rave l : "And then

a man passes out of Syria and enters i n the wilderness, where the way is r igh t

sandy. "3 I n del iberat ing on the variety of routes to and through the Holy

Land he takes in to account s o w real and substantial considerations: "Now

will I t e l l you the r igh tes t way and the shor tes t to Jerusalem. For some men

will not go the tother; some for they have not spending enough, some for then

have no good company, and some f o r they may not endure the long t r a v a i l , some

for they dread them of many p e r i & a k i e s e r t s , some for they wil l haste them

homeward, desiring t o see t h e i r wives and t h e i r ch i lder , o r f o r some other

reasonable cause t h a t they have to t u r n soon home. And therefore I will show

how men may pass t i t t e s t , and in shor tes t time make t h e i r pilgrimage to I

Jerusalem" (88).

Even when Mandeville allows unchecked marvels into his text and the

Sciapods of Ethiopia, the Amazon nation and the dog-headed men of India

disc1 ose the i r pecul i a r i tes , he answers reasonable cur ios i ty , for these wonders

are not so f a r removed from more comn-sens ica l descriptions of exot ic peoples.

The Sciapods do indeed have qui te unusual physical charac ter i s t ics and habi ts :

they have "but a foot ; and they wil l r u n so f a s t upon tha t one foot tha t i t

i s a wonder to see. And tha t i l k foot i s so mickle tha t i t cover and ombre

a1 1 his body fo r the sun" (1 13) . B u t so do the real-1 i f e Tartars exhib i t I

some remrkable manners: "They e a t ca ts and hounds, ratons and mice and a l l

manner of beasts . . ..They e a t b u t -once on the day, neikher prince nor other, C

2 2 -

7 /" and yet t h a t once they eat b u t r i g h t l i t t l e . They are r i g b t fw1 folk and -

full of malice" (92). The Tartars' reputation as ferocious warriors made /

western Europeans nervous, and Mandevil le 's version of the Tartar diet and

character may be exaggerated to the p o i n t where these 'promiscuous carnivores

seem scarcely less a1 ien t h a n the Sciapods, b u t his report i s not fabulous.

Where Mandevil 1e writes of the diet (rats and cats) , physique (prodigious one-

footedness ), be1 iefs , archi tecture or domestic relations of remote peoples , he

' answers the inchoate an thropol ogi cal interest of Europeans i n cul tures

different from their own. This comparison-making and the pleasing astonishment

the narrator and his readers f e l t a t surprising differences remain a t the

heart of travel narrative throughout i t s development as a 1 i terary genre.

Everything outside the cultural experience of the author and his audience, i s

in some measure exciting or disconcerting and always interesting. Fears and

wishes, finding no reasonable applciation in fami 1 ia r experience, are happi 1y

transferred t o unfami 1 ia r regions.

In the content of Mandeville's narrative, the range of plausibility i s ,

broad enough to accornnodate both outright marvels and more or less creditable

wonders: his Sciapods and Tartars exist on the same continuum of truth, as

do his famous catalogue of monsters and his descriptions of giraffes. The

structure of the narrative, however, goes further towards seeming t o

authenticate i t as a truthful document. Mandeville's text i s no mere compendium

o f amazing phenomena b u t an i ti nerary-based narrative . Each curiosi ty or

novelty i s firmly attached to a geographical s i t e and specifically located

within the physical universe.

The itinerary which carries the comnentary through the Holy Land i s not

one Mandeville claims as his own, Rather, i t i s a mu1 t ipl ic i ty of routes

which a postulated traveller might take. This, i s a defensible expository

>

structure, for, as Mandevil 1e declares i n his opening, "tte t h a t wit1 pass over

the sea to Jerusalem, he may wend many ways, bo th on the sea and on the land

after the countries that he comes from, and many of them come al l t o one end.

B u t trow not t h a t 1 will te l l a l l the towns and c i t ies and castles that men

shall go by; for then me must make too long tale. But a l l only some countries

and most principal steads that men shall go through to go the right way,

shortly I think for to touch" (4) . Mandeville recommends certain routes over

others as to speed and amenity, b u t each alternative i s treated equably in

terms of the opportunities i t offers for devotional sightseeing -- relics, @

churches, shrines and so on -- which i s , after a l l , w h a t the pilgrim travels

for. As we see from his notice of his method, Mandeville will not account for

every stage of travel, leaving the reader t o get from the "west parts of the

world, as England, Wales, Scotland or Norway" as he can. Nor will he attempt

an exhaustive description of the Levant, b u t only "some countries and most

principal steads. " Nevertheless, i t remains the postulated action of travel

which calls u p and connects the topics of Mandeville's commentary, for "what

men shall go through" on their way will order and authorize his sequence.

In al l probability, Mandeville did n o t travel to. the Far East, b u t he

may have known the Near ~ a s t . ~ In any case, he could n o t have known every

route he considers and he concedes as much in referring to areas of Tartary

which may l i e in the way of the pilgrim: " B u t I went never by that way to

Jergalem, and therefore may no t well te l l i t " ( 9 2 ) . The implication i s , of

course, t h a t what he does te l l he te l l s from firsthand experience. The reader's

t rust in the account i s furhter encouraged by certain transitional structures

which Mandeville- uses t o further his discourse. Having written of Galilee and i-

Nazareth, he moves on: "Since r have told you of many manners of men t h a t

dwell in countries beforesaid, now will I turn again to my way and te l l how ,'

men shafl come from those countries unto these countries again" (86). The

"way" i s both the traveller 's direction and the writer 's, i t s execution

signalling both geographical and discursive movement. Similarly, when he i s

done with the Holy Land, Mandevil le declares, "And now will I pass furthermore

and speak of divers lands and isles t h a t are beyond the Holy Land. Fo,r there 3

are many divers kingdoms and countries and isles toward the east part of the

world, wherein are many divers folk and divers kinds of beasts, and many other

marvellous things" (102). The 0 6 - ~ o i n ~ motion of discursive prose i s trans-

ferred to the writer himself: "now will I pass furthermore and speak" of lands

beyond. I t is undeniably true t h a t the narration proceeds: i s i t also .true 4

that Mandeville himself proceeded thus? A t this intersection of the diction

of travel writing w i t h transitional structures of exposition, the spea.kert s

verbal action of moving oncarries with i t intimations of his physical action.

Here the te l l ing and the travel 1 i ng are one, wi t h the resul t t h a t i ti nerary ,

as a narrative sturdture providing sequence, has the effect of ,authenticating

con tent . These transitional passages introduce the f i r s t person as an agent of

description, immediately suggesting eyewitness reporting. Mandevil l e i s we1 1

aware of the power of first-person usages to make his document a testament o r

affidavit. Having written of balm trees near Cairo, he mentions their pre-

valence in India, "in the desert. I t However, he cannot speak further of @pm: ' . /

"But that place have I not seen because of the perilous way thereti l , and

therefore I can te l l no sooth thereof" ( 3 7 ) . In this instance, the lack of

firsthand .evidence in one case (India) supports the information offered

without first-person structures in the other (Cairo). B u t i n other'instances ,

Mandevil l e steps forward directly t o confirm positively the authenticity of

his discourse. Regarding extraordinarily heavy bamboo canes on Java he

t e s t i f i e s : "No man may say t h a t t h i s i s a fe igned t h i n g o r f a b l e , f o r s i c k e r l y

I saw w i t h mine eyes, l y i n g upon t h i s sea s ide, many o f t hese t r e e s , o f t h e

which twenty men o f my f e l l o w h i p might no t bear one ne we1 1 r a i s e i t from t h e

ea r th " (134-35). Speaking o f t h e Idel l o f Youth, t h e sana t i ve waters o f i

which cu re i l l s and promote l ong 1 i f e , Mandev i l le f o r e s t a l l s a l l c a v i l l i n g

by f u l l y announcing h imse l f : '"I, John Mandevi l le , saw t h i s w e l l and drank

t h e r e o f t h r i c e , and a l l my fe l l ows , and evermore s ince t h a t t i n e I f e e l me

b e t t e r and t h e wholer ...." (121-22) Even toothsome f i s h taken fr0m.a water-

l e s s sea i n I n d i a need no t t a x t h e reader ' s c r e d u l i t y , f o r t h e author steps

i n t o a i d b e l i e f : " I John Randev i l l e a t e o f them, and t h e r e f o r e t row i t, f o r

> s i c k e r l y i t i s sooth" (1 90). This marvel was, no t o n l y beheld by t h e w r i t e r ,

bu t , 1 i k e t h e waters from t h e Well o f Youth, pa lpab ly t e s t e d ' a n d incorpora ted

\ by him.

These a u t h o r i a l i n t e r v e n t i o n s punctuate t h e t e x t a t f a i r l y r e g u l a r

i n t e r v a l s : we a r e never l e f t t o o l o n g w i thou t o u r measure o f personal

testament. They m a i n t a i n i t i n e r a r y 'as s t r u c t u r e , f o r each i n t e r v e n t i o n

procla ims t h e w r i t e r ' s phys ica l whereabouts a t some p o i n t d u r i n g t h e term o f

t h e journey. As h i s a d r o i t i n t r o d u c t i o n o f f i r s t - p e r s o n cons t ruc t i ons suggests,

4 a n d e v i l l e was not na i ve on t h e i ssue o f a u t h e n t i c i t y . He knew t h a t

documentary prose r e q u i r e d c e r t a i n convent ional props. He a1 so knew t h a t h i s

t r a v e l 1 e r ' s t a l es cou ld meet with some scept ic ism. A f t e r d e s c r i b i n g t h e

amazing opulence o f t h e rea at Khan's c o u r t and t h e populousness o f h i s

dominions, he says he knows t h a t some readers w i l l cons ider h i s r e p o r t

fabulous. This does n o t concern him: "I r e c k n o t mick le . But he t h a t w i l l

t r o w i t , t row it; and he t h a t w i l l not , leave.. . .I wot w e l l t h a t , and, any had .

been t h e r e o r i n c o u n t r i e s t h a t march thereupon, i f a l l he had no t been i n h i s

cour t , he should have heard o f h i s noblay and h i s exce l lence .so m i c k l e t h a t

he should l i g h t l y ; t r ow me o f t h a t t h a t I have said. And t h e r e f o r e I w i l l n o t

l e t t h a t ne I w i l l t e l l t h i n g s t h a t I know w e l l a r e sooth, f o r them t h a t know

them n o t ne w i l l no t t r o w them" ( 1 54). Any t r a v e l l e r who has gone so f a r as '..

t o come w i t h i n range o f t h e Khan's r e p u t a t i o n w i l l c r e d i t M a n d e v i l l e ' s 4

seemingly excessive s t a t i s t i c s . S c e p t i c a l sedentary readers u n i n i t i a t e d i n t o d

t h e wonderful phenomenology o f t r a v e l knowledge may r e s t i n t h e i r n a t i v e

ignorance. Having stayed a t home, they have no m a t e r i a l arguments w i t h which

t o d i s p u t e M a n d e v i l l e ' s c la im.

Once embarked i n t o t e r r i t o r i e s where marvels a r e r e g u l a r l y d i s c l o s e d '

and astonishment becomes a h a b i t u a l a t t i t u d e , t h e t r a v e l l e r i s 1 i a b l e t o a1 1 - 1

manner o f sensat iona l exper ience c h a l l enging h i s powers o f a n a l y s i s . The

most sensat iona l and c h a l l e n g i n g occasion i n Mandev i l l e ' s book i s h i s passage '

through t h e V a l l e y ~ e r i l o u s . ~ ,In i t s t e r r i f i c darkness t h e wayfarer meets

i n c a r n a t e a l l t h e dreads and dazzlements o f t r a v e l : he faces t h e dev i l ' 3

head; he i s b ru i sed and beaten by ghouls and demons, by t h e . f i e n d i s h a i r .

i t s e l f ; he stumbles over u n t o l d corpses and pass'es heaps o f gems. %t t h i s Z.

p i t c h of sensat ion, even7,$andevil l e t s c e r t a i n t y wavers, and he can p n l y o f f e r f

what ambiguous data he has: "And my f e l l o w s and I went th rough t h e val l -ey,

and saw many marvel lous t h i n g s and g o l d and s i l v e r and prec ious stones and

many o t h e r jewe ls on i l k a s i d e us, as us thought ; b u t whether i t were as i t

seemed, o r i t was bu t fantasy, I wot n o t " (197-98). what stands i n d i s p u t a b l y t

i s t h e f e e l i n g o f complete d i s o r i e n t a t i o n amidst an unknowable, unanalysable

menace. ' I n t h e V a l l e y P e r i l o u s t h e t r a v e l l e r i s f a r from home.

The ear th , as F a n d e v i l l e notes, i s " r i g h t g r e a t and b i g " (p. 131) and

i t s mys te r i es a r e commensurate. Happ i l y f o r w r i t e r s and t h e i r readers, t h i s

geographical immensity provides avenues fo r the pub1 i c a t ion of exci,ti ng ideas

through narratives of t r ave l . The survey of differences and d i spa r i t i e s among

nations and cl imates has i t s natural 1 i t e ra ry form in the utterance of one

perceiver, the t rave l le r -nar ra tor , - t ravers ing the distances which separate

these novel phenomena. Travel lends both spat ia l and chronological s t ruc ture

t o wonderment. Mandevill e i s en t i r e ly conscious of the workings of an

itinerary-based narrat ive s t ruc ture and'of the opportunities' i t o f f e r s for

expatiation on interest ing matters. . Having written' of Constantinopl e and of

Greek Chris t iani ty , Mandeville takes u p his "way" again, but f i r s t explains

the inclusion of material which may have seemed digressive: "And i f - a11 i t

be so tha t these things touch not to teaching the way t o the Holy Land,

%tievertheless they touch tha t t h a t I have h i g h t t o show, tha t is a t say of the

customs and manners and d ive r s i t i e s of countries. And fo r the land of Greece

i s the next country t h a t varies and i s discordant in f a i t h and l e t t e r s from

us and our f a i t h , therefore I have s e t i t here, t h a t ye may w i t the d ivers i ty

tha t is between our trowth and theirs. ; f o r many men have great l ik ing and

comfort to hear speak,of strange things" (15). The natural sequence of travel

addresses t h i s "great l ik ing and comfort" by arranging the t r a i n of d ivers i ty

so pleasing to the reader. Comparative modes of thought -- here applied to

"cus t~ms and manners" and " f a i t h and l e t t e r s " -- a r e as a matter of course

invoked by the adjacency of one country t o another i n the t ravel 1 e r ' s route.

As he concludes his book and terminates thir ty-four years of foreign

experience with a homecoming, k n d e v i l l e shows t k a t good journeys make good

books: "For ,many men have great 1 i king and des i re for t o hear new things ; and

therefore will I now cease 'of t e l l ing of divers things tha t I saw 'in those

countries, so t h a t those tha t covet t o v i s i t those countries may find new

things enovleto t e l l of for solace and recreation of t h e m tha t l i k e t o hear

them" (222). Journeys serve n o t j u s t t h e journey-maker b u t a l s o t h e audience

which awa i t s news from a f a r and rece i ves "so lace and r e c r e a t i o n " from t h e

t r a v e l l e r ' s r e l a t i o n s . Nove l t y i s c e r t a i n l y c r u c i a l t o those r e l a t i o n s : had

P4andeville t o l d a l l , subsequent journeys by o the r men would l o s e t h e edge o f

newsworthiness which would make t h e i r t e x t s pub l ishab le .

Handevi 11 e' s concern f o r n o v e l t y 1 eads him t o re1 a t e marvels and

i m p o s s i b i l i t i e s w i t h an o f fhand c r e d u l i t y o f f e n s i v e t o modern epis temologies.

Yet he i s a more r a t i o n a l t h i n k e r t han most o f t h e passages c i t e d i n t h i s

d i scuss ion would suggest. H i s cosmology i s respectab le and up-to-date, as

6 i s h i s understanding o f t h e meaning o f c i rcumnav iga t ion . H is comparat ive "

methods o f observa t ion o f r e l i g i o n , economy and s o c i a l s t r u c t u r e a r e

harb ingers o f t h e more thorough-going r a t i o n a l ism o f t r a v e l l e rs o f t he

7 Renaissance and En1 ightenment. H i s I t i n e r a r y , spur ious as i t might be

h i s t o r i c a l l y , i s never f a n t a s t i c a l and always geograph ica l l y p a r t i c u l a r .

Mandev i l l e produced a document, n o t a romance o r fan tasy , and h i s documentary

methods convinced even so s c e p t i c a l and s c h o l a r l y a reader as Richard

Hakluyt , f o r Hak luy t i nc luded Mandev i l l e ' s Trave ls i n t h e f i r s t e d i t i o n

(1 589) o f h i s P r i n c i p a l 1 Navigat ions, Voyages and D iscover ies o f t h e Engl i s h

N a f i on .

Pre-Columbian t r a v e l n a r r a t i v e n a t u r a l l y tended eastward. Not u n t i l t h e

s i x t e e n t h cen tu ry d i d Nor th America become a prominent s u b j e c t o f journey

l i t e r a t u r e , and even then Engl ish- language n a r r a t i v e l i n g e r e d i n t h e r e a r o f

I b e r i a n n a r r a t i v e s o f t r a n s - A t l a n t i c disc,overy and conquest. , Richard Hak luy t ,

i n t h e " E p i s t l e Ded ica to r i e " o f h i s D ive rs Voyages touch ing t h e Discovery o f

America (1 582) expressed h i s concern and wonderment over t h e f a i l u r e o f

Englishmen to seize the opportun i t ies fo r terri torial and commercial

expansion offered by the New World -- opportunities which had been

dramatically exploited by spaii and Portugal. His hortatory address to his

torpid countrymen, however, was one step towards adjusting this deficiency,

as was the publication of Divers Voyages i t se l f . The collected documents

comprising the vo1 me demons tra t+d the ri ghtful ness of overseas enterprise : $

"surely i f there were in us that desire to advance the honour of our countrie

which ought t o bee i n every good man, wee would not a l l this while have

foresl owne the possessing o f those landes , whiche of equi t i e and ri g h t

appertaine u n t o us, as by the discourses t h a t followe shall appeare most

~ l a i n e l y . " ~ Hakluyt's editorial inspiration i s attributable pdrtlf- to his .+

imperial ideologi, and partly to his respect for the authority of '

documentation. The reports he col lected i,n Divers Voyages and, stbsequently ,

in Principal1 Navigations spoke for the inalienable connection that had been 4

established between fhe Old World and the New by the travels of Englishmen

and other Europeans. The journeys themselves were only one strand of the

connection: the other, intertwining and strengthening strand was the verbal

activity of recording and publishing the details of the voyages. In 5

\

adescri b i n g distances and directions, in-dating and naming the moments of the

journey and then in imparting this sequence of information to a domestic i

6 -

audience, the discoverer revealed a liaison between the known world and the -

unknown. Hakluyt recognized that, up t o the point of the publication of his

Divers Voyages, the business of trans-Atlantic travel had been 1 e f t unfinished

and unconsumated. Those who had remained a t home were ignorant o f w h a t had ' t i

gone on abroad, and unti 1 news of these foreign occurrences had been pub1 ished, i

the meaning of the far-off adventures of their compatriots was incomple'te. i i i *

The importance of Hakl uyt' s edi t o r i a1 work can scarcely be overestimated.

Before the appearance of Divers Voyages in 1582, Engl ishmen had general

documentary information of America only from Richard Eden's Historie of

Travayle (1555) which included t ranslat ion of parts of Peter Martyr's - De

Rubus Oceanicis e t Orbe Novo Decades Tres (1530). Divers Voyages and the

1589 and 1600 edi t ions of Hakluyt's Principal1 Navigations stand a t the

inception of the travel genre i n i t s English application to the great

subject of North America. Wi t h Hakl uyt 's edi t ions making voyage documents

avai 1 able to a wide pub1 i c , North American travel narrat ive was on i t s way t o

becoming a formal l y pa tu re body of 1 i terature .

T h e broaching of native boundaries of experience through travel required

some ra t ionaf iza t ion beyond mere rest lessness an in Divers Voyages we find di expression of the theory of f a r t ravel . This theory proceeds from a vision

* of the symmetry and proportion discoverable in the globe: trade i s the

practical appl.ication of the abs t r ac t notion of an overall planetary

sufficiency and a just balance of comnodi ty. Robert Thorne, "merchant of

Londgn," writ ing i n 1527 of discoveries made on behalf of Portugal, explains *

the nice d is t r ibut ion of commodity between the equator and the poles. In h i s -

"Booke," a report t o Henry VIII f i r s t published .in Divers Voyages , 'he writes: ,

"For we see where nature giueth any. thing she i s no nigarde. For as w i t h vs

and other, t ha t a re aparted from the sayde equinoct ial l , our metalles be LI

lead, tynne, and yron, s o thei rs be golde, s i 1 uer, and copper. And as our

f r u i t e s and graines be aples, nuttes, and corne, so the i r s bee dates,

nutmegges, pepper, cloues, 'and other spices. And as wee haue i e t t e , amber,

c r i s t a l l , i asper, and other l&e s tones, so haue they rubies , diamonds,

i balasses, saphires, Iacincts , nd other l ike . . . .And I see tha t the

4

preciousnesse of these thinges i s measbred a f te r the distance that i s

betweene vs, and the things that we haue appetite vnto. For in this

na gation of the spicerie was discouered, that these Ilands nothing s e t by \ w golde, b u t s e t more by a knife and a nayle of yron, then by his quantitie

of Golde.. . . "' Travel reveals this enti re and universal balance of natural

supply, whereas sedentary or 1 ocal i zed experience can divulge only

inequalities and fragments of the whole. I t appeared that once the glob

enti rely known- and encompassed, scarcity and surpl us woul d be understood as

merely partial phenomena, and the mercantile alchemy of trade would convert

iron i n t o gold.

Two aspects of sixteenth c tury voyage narrative developed o u t of th is "9 doctrine of global entirety: f i r s t , the prevalence of unsubstantiated

hearsay and. fantastical rumour in otherwise meticulously factual documents

and, second, the practice of cataloguing and enurnerati ng natural products.

Hearsay and rumour extend the voyage t o i t s largest implications. Each

journey i s in i t s e l f incomplete -- an arc on the c i rc le -- b u t i t s ideal

completion could be projected by postulating destinations beyond i t s own

actual extent. A t Hochelaga, for example, the travellers on Cartier 's second

vwage (1535) hear of a "river that goeth Southwest, from whence there i s a

whole moneths say1 ing to goe to a certaine land, where there i s neither yce -

nor snow seene, where the inhabi ta ts doe continually warre orre against

another, where there is great store of Oranges, Almonds, Nuts, and Apples,

with many other sorts of f rui ts . . . . "" From Virginia in 1586 Ralph ~ a n e

reported the results of an interview with King Menatonon, who i n f o m d him

. of another king holding terr i tory on a bay seven days journey away: " O u t of

this Bay hee signified unto m e , t h a t this King had so great a quanti t i e of &

Pearle, and doeth so o r d i n a r i l y take the same, as t h a t n o t onely h i s owne

skinnes t h a t hee weareth, and the b e t t e r s o r t o f h i s gentlemen and fo l lowers

are f u l l s s e t w i t h the sayd Pearle, b u t a l so h i s bed, and houses are garnished

w i t h them, and t h a t hee hath such q u a n t i t i e o f them t h a t i t i s a wonder .to

see. "I1 Lane never does see these wonderful encrustat ions, h i s t r ave l

attempts being f r u s t r a t e d by near l y f a t a l hardship. But i n h i s n a r r a t i v e he + -

a

t r ea t s Menantonon as a r e l i a b l e witness, and the unver i f i ab7e r e p o r t o f

amazing quan t i t i e s of pear ls j u s t a b i t f u r t h e r on stands unqua l i f i ed amidst

the f ac tua l documentation o f labor ious and dangerous journey-making. When

John B r e w n wr i tes i n his "Br ie fe and True Rela t ion" of h i s voyage t o New ;" England i n 1602, he r q u i res .not even rumour t o surmise the ex is te rne o f

p len i tude j u s t past the'physical l i m i t s o f h i s journey. I n descr ib ing

c o m d i t y t ransact ions w i t h na t i ves i n the area o f k r t h a ' s Vineyard, he

wr i tes : "We had a lso o f t h e i r Flaxe, wherewith they make many s t r i n g s and

,cords, b u t i t i; no t so b r i g h t o f co lour as our i n England: I am-persuaded 1'

€hey have g rea t s t o re growing upon the maine, as a l so Mines and many o ther -

r i c h c o m d i t i e s , which we, want ing both t ime and meanes, could n o t poss ib ly --

discover. "I2 M a t e r i a l l y un l im i t ed by "t ime anti wanes," the i dea l journey

would thread together on one i n f i n i t e se r ies gems o f d iscovery e f f e c t i n g a

per fec t c i rcurmavigat ion. The actua l journey, i n i m i t a t i n g the i dea l , could

a t l e a s t i n f e r the abundance l y i n g j u s t seven days o r bm months o r many

m n t h s beyond the f i n i t e i t i n e r a r y . As i t was, t r a v e l l e r s were l e d on and

on.

I n the "Oranges, Almonds, Nuts, and Apples" which can be expected a f t e r

a month's journey southwest from Hochelaga we see an instance o f the second

asDect o f d iscovery na r ra t i ve a t t r i b u t a b l e to the doc t r ine o f the global

P .3

kla--tce of cORWfOdi ty , that $5 , t l-e pract ice of enumeration and cataloguing.

Besides rumured c o m d i t i e s , Car t i e r ' s company found plenty to remark i n .,

t he i r actual experience in the area of Quebec: "Okes, E lms , Walnut-trees,

Cedar, Firres , Ashes, Boxe, H i llowes , and great s tore of Vines," as well as

"Crane, Swannes , Geese, 3uckes , Fear an ts , Partri ges , Thrushes , Blackbirds ,

Turt les , Finches, Redbreasts, Nightingales, Sparrowes of diverse kindes"

!P. 5 5 ) . ~ h a t e ~ e r the exigency or vel oci ty of t h e i r onward progress, these

ear ly t rave l le rs pause in t h e i r narratives to ident i fy and l i s t natural

quant i t ies . Their journeys thus' became testaments to the potential networks

of trade connecting the Old 'rlorld w i t h the New. The more a t t en t ive and

c~nsc ien t ious the- travel narrator , the more copious were his collected

e ~ i i dences. Eventual 1y , i n the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries , h i s

exh3ustive observations were v d e t o answer the spec i f i c inquir ies not only

C~ investors and merchants b u t of na tu ra l j s t s as well .

Ea r ly on the pract ice of interpolating 1 i s t s of local products and -

creatures into Ule ~ a r r a t i v e of travel was formalized in appendices to the

myage r e ~ o r t . As information accumulated and the observer 's o f f i ce of

comcrehewi ve representation developed, the catalogues exerted a disruptive

stress on the coherence and f7 uency of simple 1 inear nar ra t ive , and appendices

went towards resolving som of the problems a r i s i n g from often naive authors - working in' an increasing1 y complex rhetorical s i tua t ion . In e f f e c t , two

7evels of experience had t o be accomnodated by the developing genre: the

F r ~ l i e n t l y quoti d i an arld afways s q u e n t f a? notation of occurrences and

s igh t i ngs expressed the pa r t i cu la r , imnedi a t e experience of t r ave l , while f

@erai i zation and swcu l a t i ve i nferevce proceeding from di f fuse , gradually *

de:ciired knowledge created 'a broader meaning for the voyage. The "Shorte

2n.i ,. , 3rsefe Narratior" o f Carti e r ' s second voyage demonstrates in i t s e l f the

movement from the cursive report of day-to-day advance to the discursive

utterance ar i s ing from longer fami l ia r i ty with the new place. Through July

1535 the company follows the coast towards the mouth of the St. Lawrence,,

a n d the narrator attends to the se r i e s of the i r advance. The r epe t i t i ve ,

equable rhythms of his prose r e f l e c t the regular progress of geographical

sequence:

The next day being the l a s t of July, we went a l l along the coast t ha t runneth East and West, and somewhat Southeasterly Iphich iSs a l l environed about with Islands and d r i e sands, and in trueth i t i s very dangerous. The length from S. Germans Cape to the said Islands i s about 17 leagues and a halfe , a t the end of which there i s a goodly p lo t of ground f u l l of huge and high t r ees , a l b e i t the rest of the coas t be compassed about with sands without any signe or shew of harboroughs, t i l l we came to Cape Thiennot, which trendeth Northwest about seven leagues from the foresaid Islands, which Cqpe Thiennot we noted in our former voyage, and therefore we sa i led on a1 1 tha t night West and Westnorthwest, t i 1 1 i t was day, and then the w i n d turned against us, wherefore'we went t o seeke a haven wherein we might barbour our ships , and by good hap, found one f i t f o r our purpose, about seven leagues and a halfe beyond Cape Thiennot, ahd t h a t we named S. Nicholas Haven, i t l i e t h amidst 4 Islands tha t s t re tch in to the sea (39-40). I

While each day's journey goes on, informational uni ts a re presented s e r i a l l y , >

l inked by co-ordi na t e conjunctions ; when the travel 1 e r s pause, subordinate

cons tructjons introduce concise descriptions of each s t a t ion . The wri ter

min td ins a jus t proportion between the data of time and progress and those

o f ?lace, and no undue digressions promote any one incident or location over

ancther. The long sentences and infrequent terminal punctuation suggest

unremi t t i n g progress. Indeed, the discovery of a new world seems a regular,

,mt te r -of - fac t business. -- -.

'riowever, ttj& easy detachment of the co'asting" travel l e r s , mo~tng unimpeded

frm one point to another, i s eventually compromised. Car t i e r ' s plan for

direct ingress to the continent meet with obstruction when i t i s discovered

t h a t Taignoagny and Comagaia, two natives who spent the winter i n France,

have minds of t h e i r m and a re invof ved i n a t r a i n o f events beyond the-

voyagers' command o r co & rehension. Once disembarked, the p a i r re fuse t o ,

accompany the French s h i ps t o Hochel aga. Treachery a t wors t , compl i ca ti ons

a t l e a s t a re introduced in,to the s t ra ight forward design of the voyage and

the na r ra to r must r e s o r t t o va r ied expos i tory pract ices t o account f o r these >

ambi guous , extra-1 i near happenings . New syn t a c t i ca l s t ruc tu res appear i n

repor ts o f the exchanges between C a r t i e r and the dissembling nat ives: "Our

Captaine asked them i f according t o promise they would go w i t h him t o

Hochelaga? They answered yea, f o r so they had purposed, and then ech one

withdrew himsel f e u (p. 49). The former ly determinant chronological uni t o f

the day, conta in ing the distance t raversed and the landmarks noted, i s now

var iab le . Sometimes i t i s expanded f a r beyond the 100-150 words which

cons is ten t l y reported quo t id ian occurrence i n the e a r l i e r pa r t s o f the voyage -

and sometimes i t i s completely overlooked i n the n a r r a t o r ' s d iscurs ive

eagerness t o exp la in the problems which have a r i se0 between the company and

t h e i r conductors. Later , when the voyagers have s e t t l e d f o r t he w in te r ,

d a i l y r epo r t i ng i s abandoned e n t i r e l y . Then the sojourn i s represented

through discussion o f a few s a l i e n t events ( i n p a r t i c u l a r , the sojourners '

t e r r i b l e su f fe r ing f rom scurvy and t h e i r discovery o f an an t i - scorbu t i c i n

the bark of the whi te p ine) and through general i n fo rmat ion on na t i ve

cu l t u re (Chapter 10 t e l l s o f "The m n e r how the people of t h a t Country 1 i ve :

and o f c e r t a i ne condi t i ons : o f t h e i r f a i t h , maners , and customs") and on

the n a m p l cha rac te r i s t i c s o f the place (Chapter 11 o f f e r s news "Of t he 4 '?

greatnesse and depth of the sa id r i v e r , and of the so r t s o f beasts, b i rdes,

f ishes, and other th ings t h a t we have seene, w i t h the s i t u a t i o n o f the

place" ) . Even the r e l a t i dy unsophist icated author o f the "B r i e fe

Narration" was soon drawn beyond 1 inear sequence i n making his report .

Although the narrative s t ruc ture of the log predominates i n his early

chapters ,* Car t i e r ' s s c r ibe found i t an inadequate form once involvements

and imp1 ications drew the t rave l le rs i n and detained t h e m in t h i s a1 ien

place. Then the narrator becomes discursive and author i ta t ive , interpret ing

the general tenour of 1 i f e i n the New World by sel ecting representative

events and conditions fo r consideration. Once the sojourn i s concluded and

the t ave l le rs ex t r i ca t e themselves f r ~ m the foreign scene, the narrator E reverts t o a s t r i c t chronological s t ruc ture to report t h e resumption of

journeying and the return to France.

The travel genre developed rapidly i n the sixteenth century as wri ters

of voyage narrative became readers of voyage narrative and acquired a

consciousness of the s t ruc tura l precedents of the - l i t e ra ry form they had

taken up . Francis Fl e tcher , reporter of Drake's circumnavigation, shows

not only an elegant s t y l e b u t a l so an awareness of the demands of narrative

coherence when he writes of the company's experience on t h e Cal i fornia

coast i n 1579. ~ n c o u n t e r i n ~ unseasonably cold weather, the mariners , a r e 1

much exercised over the question of climate and l a t i t u d e , and ~ l e t d r takes

u p the question i n his narrat ive, b u t not without f i r s t notifying his

audience @f the impending excurses: "And here, having so f i t occasion

(notwithstanding i t may seeme t o be besides the purpose of writing the

history of t h i s our voyage), we will a l i t t l e more d i l igent ly inquire into

the causes of the continuance of the extreame cold i n these par t s , as a lso

In expatiating on conditions,

13 into the probabi l i t ies or unlikelihood of a passage t o be found tha t way." . ~

the narrat ive takes a turn into digression.

Fletcher i s aware of the r i sk he takes in departing from a s t r i c t l y 1 inear

n o t a t i o n ( " i t may seeme t o be bes ide t h e purpose o f w r i t i n g t h e h i 8 s t o r y o f

t h i s our voyage") bu t o v e r r u l es o b j e c t i o n s i n announcing a more comprehensive

n a r r a t i v e system which declaFes t h j S a " f i t occasion" f o r t h e subsequent '..- ,

specu la t ions and rev iew o f rece i ved i n f o r m a t i o n on t h e t o p i c . Perhaps more

than any o t h e r l i t e r a r y genre, t r a v e l n a r r a t i v e i n v i t e s d ig ress ion . Yet, a t

t h e same t ime, i t r e s i s t s d i vaga to ry impuTses w i t h t h e s t r e n g t h o f t h e

l i n e a r s e r i e s o f t h e i t i n e r a r y . Trave l n a r r a t o r s c l a s s i c a l l y i n t r o d u c e

a s s o c i a t i v e m a t e r i a l s w i t h o v e r t s i g n a l s t o t h e reader, on t h e one hand

r e s p e c t i n g t h e i nexo rab le i t i n e r a r y as a predominat ing s t r u c t u r e b u t on t h e

o the r hand seeing t h e journey as an i n f i n i t e l y suggest ive device.

F l e t c h e r i s r a t h e r advanced i n t h e s o p h i s t i c a t i o n o f h i s analyses, b u t

o t h e r voyage w r i t e r s were a l s o d i v e r s i f y i n g t h e r h e t o r i c a l frame o f t h e i r

n a r r a t i v e s , i n c o r p o r a t i n g d i g r e s s i o n and <peculat ion. As t h e q u a n t i t y o f

voyage l i t e r a t u r e grew, w r i t e r s f e l t g r e a t e r r e s p o n s i b i l i t y t o account f o r

p r e v i o u s l y recorded i n f o r m a t i o n and t o r e f e r t o t h e i nc reas ing s t o r e o f da ta

on t h e New World. John Sparke's c h r q n i c l e o f John Hawkins' 1565 e x p e d i t i o n

inc ludes , i n i t s r e p o r t o f adventures on t h e F l o r i d a coas t where some

members o f Hawkins' company were t e m p o r a r i l y s t randed ashore, general

i n f o r m a t i o n on t h e t h r e a t t o Europeans f rom h o s t i l e and even anthropophagi te

na t i ves . Sparke shows t h a t he has read Eden's t r a n s l a t i o n o f Pe te r M a r t y r ' s

De Rebus Oceanic is e t Orbe Novo Decades Tres when' he r e l a t e s e a r l i e r ,

Spanish exper ience w i t h t h e F l o r i d i a n s : " O f t h e i r c r u e l t y ment ion i s made Y -

i n t h e booke o f t h e Decades, o f a f r i e r , who t a k i n g upon him t o persuade t h e I -

A

3

people t o sub jec t i on , was by them taken, and h i s s k i n c r u e l l y p u l l e d ove r t

3 h i s eares, and h is . f l e s h eaten. "14 To emphasize t h e s i g n i f i c a n c e o f t h e

f o r t u n a t e rescue o f t h e st randed men, Sparke o f f e r s , t h i s a d d i t i o n a l -d

5 e

7

i n f o r m a t i o n from another t r a v e l t e x t . As t h e genre developed, i n t e r - t e x t u a l 4 r; i

re fe rences became more common; n a r r a t o r s consul t ed - 5 t e c e d e n t documents and k

abandoned the n a i v e t y o f t h e innocent p r ima v i s t a .

I n *every case, however, f r o m t h e na i ve and unelaborated l o g t o t h e more -

complex and de l i b e r a t i v e composi t ions o f we1 1-read t r a v e l 1 ers , t h e document

i t s e l f serves t h e pr imary purpose o f making a verba l connect ion between ,

unheard-of phenomena i n an unknown wor ld and accepted, f a m i l i a r schemes o f

thought and know1 edge. The connect ive f u n c t i o n i s most conspicuously

ev iden t i n t h e s.imple n a r r a t i v e s o f the e a r l i e s t beholders o f t h e Nor th

American coast . I n these documents, t h e pr imary verba l a c t i o n o f naming

i t s e l f c rea tes an a f f i n i t y between t h e unknown and t h e f a m i l i a r , imposing

European systems on a l i e n aspects. I n "The F i r s t R e l a t i o n o f Jaques

C a r t h i e r o f S. !lalo, 1534" t h e mar iners name as they go, des igna t i ng

topograph ica l and -mar i t ime fea tu res accord ing t o c u l t u r a l p r i n c i p l es they

have c a r r i e d w i t h them across t h e sea. F ind ing themselves between A n t i c o s t i

and Labrador, t hey a p p l y a f i t t i n g s i g n t o t h e body o f water th rough which

t h e y s a i l : "Nowe because upon S a i n t Peters day wee entered i n t o t h e sayd 1

S t r e i t e , wee named i t S a i n t Peters S t r e i t e " (p. 28). Dur ing t h e second

voyage, i n t h e f o l l o w i n g year , t h e y come upon " t h r e e f l a t I as they

exp lo re t h e G u l f o f S t . Lawrence: "we named them S. Johns I s l e t s , because

we found them, and en t red i n t o them t h e day o f t h e beheading o f t h a t Sa in t "

( p . 4 3 ) . The i r toponymic p r a c t i c e f i x e s (impermanently, as i t were) t o

f o r e i g n s i t e s s igns f rom t h e c u l t u r e l e f t behind. In the C a r t i e r voyages

e s p e c i a l l y t h e Holy Year i s invoked t o o rgan ize t h e rush o f new phys i ca l

da ta c o n f r o n t i n g t h e d iscoverers , b u t any p r a c t i c e sf d a t i n g accord ing t o

t h e European calendar goes towards m a i n t a i n i n g f a m i l i a r ch rono log i ca l o rde r

i n an u n f a m i l i a r p lace. Toponymy cen be a s o p h i s t i c a t e d verba l exerc ise,

recovering from an alien s i t e complex meanings linking i t t o the cultural

experience of the namers. Frances Fletcher describes Drake's nomination of

California in 1579: "This country our General1 named Albion, and t h a t for ' two causes; the one in respect of the white bancks and cl i f fes , which l i e

toward th.e sea; the other, t h a t i t m i g h t have some affinity, even in name

also, with our own country, which was sometim!s so a1 led" ( p . 171). This -S verbal action claims the coast for England, for the moment, and declares

the namer's membership in a particular linguistic comnunity remote from the \

object named. Many of these designations -- Albion and S t . Peter's Isles, r,

for example -- disappear under the successive waves of renaming and revisi ta-

t ion , and some exist only i n the texts which report their origins. However,

notwithstanding their more or less ephemeral currency, they performed an

important office in reorienting the traveller in an anonymous 1 andscape.

Naming, especially in i t s more elaborate instances, can be seen as an

abbreviated form of the more extensive descriptions which were later made t o

represent the characteristics of the New World. The application of names -- shorthand signs, in effect -- from English and other European languages t o the

physical features of the new continent began the process of incorporating.

i t into a literary tradition.

Certain conventional diction entered early into this 1 i terary tradition.

Neafly every writer a t some summary point in his narrative rehearses ideas

of compelling importance t o himself and his readers, namely, riches,

minerals, metals, and fruitfulness in every degree of plenitude. And

s uperl a t i ve cons truc t i ons .typi call y .give poi n t t o these re1 ated ideas . For

example, the English translation of John Ribaul t ' s "True and Last Discouerie

of Florida in the yeere 1562," printed by Hakluyt in Divers Voyages, te l ls

of finding a country which i s the "fairest, f rui t ful lest , and pleasantest of .

a1 the world, abounding in honf, venison, wilde foule, forests, woods of

a1 1 sortes , Palme trees, Cypresse and Cedars, Eayes ye highest and greatest,

with also the fayrest vines in a l l the world.. . ." ( p . 101 ) and, further,

"one of the goodliest, best, and frui t ful lest countreys t h a t ever was seene;

and where nothing lacketh.. . ." (p. 111) Cartier, on his second voyage, had

already found a t Hochelaga "the fairest and best countrey t h a t possibly can e

(k

be seene" ( p . 58) as well as a river "the plentifullest of fish t h a t ever

h a t h of any man bene seene or hearde of. . . . "('." ) Arthur Barlowe, in. a

report addressed t o Ralegh, t e l l s his sponsor that in Virginia in 1584 i s

soil which i s "the most plentiful1 , sweete, frui tfull and wholesome of a l l * '

the worlde .... "I5 These superlatives, crowding into most of the texts and

ascending to a climax of exorbitant promise, exert nearly irresist ible

pressures on the documentary real ism of the narratives, opening the door t o 3

fantastical assessments of the New World. In his. repqrt Barlowe responds, a t

least unconsciously i f not with conscious calculation, t o his reader's

expectations: Ralegh has in effect paid for the narrative and wi 11 want his

money's worth. Descriptions culminating in fulsome superlatives make a good

return on his inveStment.

The transcription of David Ingram's news from America offers a more

blatant example of a narrator ' s direct 'response to his audience's

expecta t i ons . Ingram was one

af ter the sinking by the Span

of a hundred men p u t ashore in Mexico i n 1568

ish of one of three English ships commanded by

Hawkins and Drake. Hawkins' ship was too overcrowded with survivors and .too

under-provisioned t o make i t back t o England w i t h i t s full complement of

passengers and the hundred reportedly volunteered to take their chances in

I

America. Ingram and

, f i s h i n g boat, having

two companions were eventua l ly rescued by a French

made t h e i r way t o Cape Breton Is land. Ingram's = "

ex t raord inary journey a t t r a c t e d a t t e n t i o n and i n 1582 he was in te r roga ted i n

England by o f f i c i a l s concerned w i t h co lon izat ion. The r e p o r t o f the i n t e r -

roga t ion was publ ished by Hakluyt i n the 1589 e d i t i o n o f P r inc ipa l1

~ a v i ~ a t i 0 n s . l ~ I n i t i s much t h a t i s undoubtedly t r ue o r approximately t rue.

We learn, for example, t h a t the nat ives are "very s w i f t o f foo t ; the h a i r

of t h e i r heads i s shaven i n sundry spots ... .I1 and t h a t " there i s a t r e e

c a l l e d a p lan ta in , w i t h a f r u i t growing on i t l i k e a pudding, which i s most

exce l l en t m a t raw. "I7 But embedded i n these temperate observations i s s o w

- s u r p r i s i n g in format ion regard ing the abundance o f gems and valuable metals.

Kings were seen by Ingram t o wear "great precious stones, which commonly

are rubies, being four inches long and two inches broad" (p. 55). These

gemy potentates are n o t alone i n t h e i r opulence, f o r " i n every cot tage be

found pea r l : i n some houses a quart , i n some a peck, more o r Jess.. ."

vessels 6

and they have " i n every house scoops, buckets, and d ive rs o the r

o f massy s i l v e r , wherewith they do throw ou t water and dust.. . ." (p., 57) . Most s u r p r i s i n g o f a l l , however, i s the news t h a t i n t h i s region

of. s i l v e r dustpans and pecks o f pear ls, the

f u r t h e r t h a t he and h i s two fe l lows, namely

went i n t o a poor man's house and there they

devi 1 l u r k s incarnate: "He sa i t h

Richard Browne an4 Richard Twide,

d i d see the sa id Col luch io o r

d e v i l w i t h very g rea t b lack eyes 1 i k e a black c a l f . Upon s.ight whereof

Browne said, 'There i s the Dev i l ' . . . 'I (p. 60). His 'audience before him,

t h e i r i n t e r e s t mani fest , Ingram answered h i s i n q u i s i t o r s w i t h a na r ra t i ve .

o f cursory desc r i p t i on of na tu ra l products, g ina l cu l tu re , surplus r i ches

and demonic menace. H is concoction of f a c t was, f o r the time, an

acceptable utterance. It seemed t o represent the p r o b a b i l i t i e s o f an unknown d

cont inent . A f t e r a l l , a more l i t e r a t e and r e l i a b l e repor te r , John Sparke,

had w r i t t e n i n h i s r e p o r t o f Hawkins' e a r l i e r expedi t ion i n 1565 t h a t

fabulous creatures coul d be discovered i n America. Deduction ,rather than . ,

f i r s thand experience l e d him t o t h i s conclusion: " O f beasts i n t h i s countrey '

besides deere, foxes, hares, polcats, conies, ownces, and leopards, I am n o t

able c e r t e i n l y t o say: b u t i t i s thought t h a t there are l i o n s and tygres

as w e l l as unicornes ; l i o n s espec ia l l y ; i f i t be t r ue t h a t i s sayd, of the

enmity betweene them and the unicornes; f o r there i s no beast b u t ha th h i s

enemy, as t he cony the po lcat , a sheepe the woolfe, the elephant. the r inoceros;

and so o f o ther beasts the l i k e : insomuch, t h a t whereas the one i s , the

o ther can n o t be missing" (p. 128).

Once a w r i t e r takes up the voyage form, h i s way i s open t o a l l manner

o f speculat ion t o answer the looming questions standing between him and

the unknown. Lacking concrete evidence as t o the nature o f the New World,

the t r ave l na r ra to r turns t o surmise or , as a l a s t resor t , fantasy t o sketch

i n 1 i kelihood. Having noth ing b e t t e r t o go on, h i s pos tu la t ions answer the

expectat ions of h i s audience and f l a t t e r not ions o f fabulous poss ib i 1 i ty.

The urgent des i re of Europeans f o r a new trade route t o the Or ient , f o r

example, i n s p i red elaborate geographical fantasies based on very eagre

physi ca l e v i dences . I n t h a t the t r a v e l genre n o t on ly al lowed b u t encouraged free-wheeling

speculat ion, i t a lso o f f e red i t s e l f as a veh ic le fo r fan tas t i ca l imaginings

i n a documentary form. Nico lo Zeno's "Discouerie o f the I s l e s o f Fr is land,

Iseland, Engroueland, Esto t i land, Drogeo, and I c a r i a " i s the most notab le ,

s i xteenth-century instance o f documentary fantasy. The " D i scouer ie"

purported t o be a compi lat ion o f documents r e l a t i n g t o f ou r t eenm century

discoveries by two Vengtian brothers Nicolo and Antonio Zeno. So shrewd was k the pseudo-compi ler , a sixteenth-century descendant of the adventurous

brothers, in his manipulations o f the conventions of voyage narrative t h a t

Hakluyt was t a k n in and included the "Discouerie" in Divers Voyages, thereby

authenticating i t as a factual account. "Isel and" and "Engroueland" appear

-to refer to Iceland and Greenland, b u t the other island nations named in the

t i t l e are fabrications so cannily masked by documentary strirctures that

reputable geographefs long included them in maps of areas northwest of the

British Isfis.'* Through these various processes of publ ication, Zeno

private fantasies were drawn into the realm of publ i c consensus.

Zeno claims t o have developed the narrative from epistolary materials,

f i r s t from let ters sent by Nicolo t o Antonio, which urge Angonio to come to

. this remote archipelago, and then from letters sent, af ter Nicolo's death,

from Antonio to a third brother, stay-at-home Carlo. The resulting

composi tion contains many of the characteristics of authentic North American

voyage narrative: descriptions of a native aristocracy (Prince Zichmni ,

a powerful and warlike sovereign who makes much of the Zeni, i s a central

figure in the story), as well as accounts of native barbarities, cannibalism

and so on. Further, gold and other metals are either seen o r heard of. f- -n

Undoubtedly, i t was Zeno's hand1 ing of his pseudo-documents whi&

inspired his readers' faith in his "Discouerie." He describes the

circumstances of his finding these materials; he cites the le t ters neatly,

always noting those points a t which he quotes directly from them and those

a t which he summarizes their contents. I n a l l , he convincingly simulates

a scholarly concern for accuracy. Having followed Antonio Zeno and Prince

Zichmni to their discovery of a "very good" country to the southwest of

Engroue 1 and, the s ixteenth-cen tury Zmo i nget-tuotts

complete data: "What fol lowed a f t e r t h i s l e t t e r ,

fy concedes his lack o f t

I know not but by coniecture,

which I gather out of a peece of an other l e t t e r , which I will s e t downe ,

heere vnderneath: That Zichrnni buil t e a towne in the porte of the Iland hee

discouered, and tha t Gee searched the Countrie very d i l igent ly and discouered

i t a l l , and also the r iuers on both s ides of Engroueland, f o r t h a t I see i t

par t icular ly described in the Sea card, b u t the discourse o r narration is '

lost ."19 By frankly explaining the l imi ts of his sources, Zeno acquires i

l icense fo r what goes on within those l imi ts of knowledge. Given the

permissiveness of such a 1 icense, Zeno's fabrications a re notably restrained.

Aside from the prevalence of Latin-speakers and Christians among the

indigenous populations, most of the reported discoveries a re not hard to

swallow. Gold i s found only in moderate (but'worthwhile), amounts; nei ther

unicorns nor demons a re sighted, and monstrosities are a1 together absent. ?

Zeno's composition, while not fac tua l , can scarcely be cal led f ic t ion .

Nor was i t a l legorical o r s a t i r i c a l in in ten t . Unlike More's Utopia o r

Swift 's Gulliver 's Travels, f o r instance, i t purports to be l i t e r a l l y true

and i t s rhetorical claim to veracity i s par t of i t s meaning. I t was - accepted by contemporary (and 1 a t e r ) readers as a l i t e r a l accou% of unknown

lands. Zeno's inspirat ion came not just from his obviously ag i l e and clever

imaginings of foreign seafaring, b u t a l so from his understanding of the way

cer tain narrat ive s t ructures could introduce fantasy into real i ty through

audience credul i ty and acceptation. +

As travel narrat ive, Zeno' s "Discouerie" makes .the most of the rhetor ical

authority of rumour and hearsay. On the continuum of t r u t h i t stands a t the

opposite end from ver i f iab le actuaqi ty represen ed by physical evidence -- _I the ore sample, the botanical specimen, the kidnapped native. Ranging a

45

between the extremes of the fantasy v o y a ~ ~ a n d the portable specimen are the

documentary narratives of .travel , recovering facts, considering causes and 5, A

speculating on possibility. As soon as the f i r s t step i s made away from

concrete evidence -- the soil sample or the lump of ore -- towards ierbal ,/-

evidence -- the mariner's log o r discoverer's journal -- physical actuality

gives way t o a literary reality. Even the business-1 ike logs concentrating

on 1 i t t l e more than meri dional sightings and geographical measurements "e=-,

provide no absolute certainties: navigational observations are frequently in

error, aTthough made in good faith; distances fl uctuate wonderfully . Once

a recognizable system of expectations is established (as one soon was in North

American travel 1 i terature) and i s known t o the writer, 1 i terary conventions

can create a verbal reality more or less independent of physical t r u t h . In

their extreme instances -- as with Zeno's "Discouerie" -- the conventions

stand for and function as reality i t se l f .

Travel writing remained the primary North American 1 i terary form in

the sixteenth century. For Engl ish-speakers, North American experience could

only be viewed from without, and as a stage in a round-trip that would lead

them home again. Sedentary experience in North America was unknowable and

unspeakable. Those Europeans who did come, t o stay for shorter or longer

periods were i l l -equipped for -permanence, and thei r poor preparations

emphasized thei r essenti a1 detachment from the s i tes of thei r attempted

residence. Settlement i n the early part of the seventeenth century changed

the situation and i t s literary expression somewhat: realism became a positive

1 i terary val ue, for now fanciful projections were downright dangerous t o

human survival. B u t Europeans in the New World continued to face G e

questions meetingi a1 1 travellers in foreign places : i s this a hospitable I 4

place or not? can we survive -- economically, cul turaf ly, physically -- under

these a1 ien condi tions? Sixteenth-century travellers had discovered diverse

answers t o these questions. A t f i r s t , their enterprises seemed to be carried

on under favourable auspices. Things looked good to them, and they were

encouraged by the idea of ever 1 onger journeys reaping ever greater promise. .

On their second voyage, Cartier and his men find manifest assurance in a

festive welcome: '-

In which place of ~och'iela~a, a n d a l l the way we went, we met with many of those countriemen, who brough us fish and such other victuals as they had, s t i l l dancing and greatly rejoycing a t our coming. Our Captaine to lure them in, and t o keepe them our friends, t o recornpence thm, gave them knives, beades, and such small t r i f l e s , wherewith they were greatly satisfied. So soone as we were come neere - Hochelaga, there came t o meete us above a thousand persons, men, women and chi 1 dren, who afterward did as friendly and merily entertaine and receive u s asc any father would doe his child, which he had not of long time seene, the men dauncing on one side, the women on another, and likewise the children on another: after of Millet, casting them into o u r boates so thicke, t h a t you would have t h o u g h t i t to fa71 from heaven ( p . 57).

Certainly such a mu1 t i tudinous reception and jubilee must have contributed t o

the voyagers' feelings of self-esteem as we11 as affirming their belief in

the propi tiousness oT thei r venture. Early travel 1 ers t o Vi rginia , New

England and California Jeported similar salutations from the natives. These \

joyful disembarkations furthered the journey-makers in their be1 ief that 4.

they had come t o an other-world, a discoverable eden consonant w i t h man's

eternal- expectations. Barf owe gf adly celebrated the h o s ~ i ta l i ty of the /

natives of Virginia in 1584: "We were entertained with a l l lovi and kind-

nesse, and with as much boMt5e [after their maner) as they could possibly

ckvfse. We found the people most gentTe, tovirig, and FaTthfuTT, voide of

ail guile and treason, and such as 1 ive pfter the maner of the golden age"

(p. 236). In t h i s gracious place was something familiar, something kindred

\--

of scaricty , property and tenancy.

a Thegoldenagewas of shor t t e rm,

. repeated ~e r iod i ca l fy t h r o u g h the next

penetrated the hinterland a n d met here

b u t cautious d6tente took the place of

to the aspirations of the travellers . I& bounty seemed to belong to no

one -- as yet -- and t o have been exempted from post-1apsarian.economic laws

these l a te r t ravellers . ) I n the sixteenth century i t was soon discovered that

V

\" however. ( I t s virgin moments were

two centuries as travel lers

and there wi t h benevolent we1 come,

rapturous accord in t h ~ strategies of

this ha1 cyon bounty was f i n i t e , t h a t these .natives were a separate nation

and that America was a foreign land and not an other-world. Reports of

salutary welcome gave way to those of signal hos t i1 i ty. American. Indians . showed themselves to be no mre projection of the European imagination b u t

.enters of a n independent culture, capable of autonomous actions which their

European i i s i tors considered conspiratorial and treasonous. over nor John

Ahi t e ' s journal of- the 1587 ~ l a n t a t i o n expedition t o Virginia reported

appa ren t ly unprovoked hos t i 1 i t y :

The eight a n d twentieth, George Howe, one of our twelve Assistants was slaine by divers Savages, which were come over to Roanoak, e i ther of purpose to espie o u r company, and what we were, or e lse t o h u n t &ere, whereof were many in the Island. These Savages being secretly hidden among high reedes, where oftentimes they find the k e r e asleep, a n d so ki l l them, espied o u r man wading in the water alone, almost nakgd, without any weapon, save only a sml forked s t icke , catching Crabs tkjerewithall, and also being strayed two miles from his company, and shqt a t him in the water, where they gave h i m sixteen wounds'with their arrowes: and a f te r they had s h i n e him w i t h their woodden sksrards , they beat h i s head i n pieces fled over the water to the mine. 20

Gmrge Howe 'fared not so well as the guests of the Golden ~ g e ; neither did

Cye thousatids of v i c t ims o f massacre, famine and disease among subsequent ., -

travellers to. the f k w Yorld i n the next century. The alien s ta tus which had

a t f i r s t been a token of wonderful transportation became a sign of dreadful

pe r i l . Fears of cannibal ism haunted travel 1 e rs i n North America we1 1 into

the eighteenth century, for anthropophagism and other forms of strange and

hideous death figured the ult imate r i s k of venturing into t h i s savage

country.

Yet travel continued in the face of dread, and t r ave l l e r s held t h e i r

own once they learned t o exercise precautious diplomacy in t h e i r dealing

with 1 ocal populations. Travel i n sixteenth-century North America showed

i t s e l f t o be a subt le social venture on those occasions when European

voyagers pursued t h e i r missions with both t a c t and conviction. Far removed

from the sources of authori ty which legitimized t h e i r enterprises ( l e t t e r s

patent having, obviously, jur i sd ic t ion only within t h e i r own language

cormuni ty) ,. they were essent ia l l y powerless. B u t with pol icy and prudent

courtesy, they could temporarily a l l y themselves with the authori ty systems

of the foreign community without abandoning the purposes which had sent them

for th in the f i r s t place. O n the coast of California jn 1579 -Drake i s

a offered, as Fletcher wri tes , the "sceptre, crowne, and digni ty of the sayd

countrie" as the native king and his court excitedly profess t h e i r pol i t ica l

a1 1 egiance and' vassalage t o the navigator who seems t o t h e m a god-1 i ke

sovereign. They sing and dance t o express t h e i r f e a l t y and t h e i r pleasure

i n the subordination they have undertaken. Drake accepts t h e i r gestures :

"These things being -so freely offered our Genera11 thought not meet t o

r e j e c t or refuse the s a w , b t k f o r t h a t he wwld nut give them any cause of

mistrust or d is l ik ing of him ( tha t being the onely place, wherein a t t h i s

present, we were o f necessi t ie inforced to seeke re1 i e fe of many th ings) , and

chiefely for that he knew not t o what good end God had brought t h i s t o passe,

o r what honour and p r o f i t i t migh t b r j n g t o ou r c o u n t r i e i n t i m e t o come"

(p. 168). Drake consents t o t h e e x o t i c ceremony, even when p a r t s o f i t

which i n v o l v e t h e sel f - m u t i l a t i o n o f t h e ce leb ran ts .g ross ly o f f e n d h i s

s e n s i b i l i t y , because he recognizes t h e p e c u l i a r s o c i a l predicament i n

which he f i n d s h imse l f . Here, on t h i s d i s t a n t coast , he i s f a r from a l l

normal sources o f succour o r asylum, and t h e h n i s t r u s t o r d i s l i k ing" o f t h e

r e s i d e n t s would have grave consequences. H is acquiescence i n t h e s t range

behaviours o f h i s hosts i s a s u r v i v a l t a c t i c : f o r t h e moment, he must go

a long w i t h t h e i r cu r i ous usages and o u t l a n d i s h s igns o f ami ty . But a t t h e

same t i m e he main ta ins a marg in o f reserve, having an eye t o t h e imper ia l

advantages o f t h i s congress on t h e shore. I n t h i s , he r e f e r s (as F le t che r

presents h i s thoughts) t o h i s home and own c u l t u r a l o r i g i n s -- t o "our

c o u n t r i e . " He i s an Englishman and agent o f E n g l i s h purpose. On t h e

C a l i f o r n i a n beach, he a d r o i t l y nego t i a tes t h e circumstances o f h i s f a r - o f f

journey-making, on t h e one hand complying w i t h t h e a l i e n c u l t u r e he

encounters and on t h e o t h e r m a i n t a i n i n g h i s o r i g i n a l c u l t u r a l at tachments

and i d e n t i t y even a t t h i s g r e a t d is tance. Drake n e i t h e r l oses h i m s e l f i n

t h i s m u l t i t u d i n o u s fore ignness, no r evades it, b u t t r e a t s w i t h it, ,and'

cont inues on h i s way towards proper d e s t i n a t i o n s .

M a i n t a i n i n g an optimum balance between involvement and detachment, t h e

t r a v e l 1e r ho lds t o h i s i t i n e r a r y and pursues a s a f e course. I n Nor th

America i n t h e s i x t e e n t h cen tu ry t h e consequences o f be ing de ta ined o r

i n t e r r u p t e d i n t h e p u r s u i t o f a io reseen r o u t e were d i sas t rous : t h e d

delayed journey-maker was i n danger o f being swal lowed-up -- f i g u r a t i v e l y

o r l i t e r a l l y -- by a v a s t unknown, estranged from a l l reasonable hope o f

rescue. General ly , he had no v e r y c l e a r idea even o f where he was. Th is

was an extreme ins tance, c e r t a in ly , of t h e ex i s ten t ia l r i s k involved i n

t r ave l . Yet a l l t ravel holds ce r t a in r i s k s i n severing o r a t tenuat ing

t he domestic attachments from which t he t ravel l e r derives his iden t i ty ,

h is d i rec t ion and h i s view of 1 i f e . Getting by i n a foreign place and a t

t he same time providing f o r a decent re tu rn t o t he point of departure

requ

w i t h

ions i r e s the t a c t and a l e r t ne s s Drake demonstrated i n h i s negotiat

t h e Cal i fornians .

111

Travel throws into r e l i e f the t r a v e l l e r ' s sources of i den t i t y

mental i t y , i so l a t i ng them from the supportive network of sedentary

and

at tach-

ments. The t r a v e l l e r ' s s e n s i b i l i t y becomes, f o r the duration of the

journey and the t e x t of i t , a model or epitome of national s e n s i b i l i t y and

t h e t r a v e l l e r becomes a delegate , a s i t were, from his home community,

representing i t s i n t e r e s t s i n a va r ie ty of exotic s i t ua t i ons . With his

observations, ra t ioc ina t ions and specula t ions , he i s an emissary fo r h is

cu l tu re .

In sixteenth-century t ravel wri t ing t h i s was an impl ic i t b u t s t i l l

unart iculated condit ion of t r ave l . Voyagers went ou t , o f ten carrying prolix

and deta i led ins t ruc t ions from t h e i r sponsors, and did t h e i r best both t o

f u l f i l l expectations and t o survive i n t h e process. They had the material

advantages of t ravel ch ie f ly i n mind. B u t , a t t he same time, t he l i t e r a t u r e

of t r a v e l , issuing from increasingly sophis t ica ted narra t ive s t ruc tures ,

was showing t h a t c e r t a in immaterial benef i ts might r e s u l t from voyaging.

The e loquent" text i t s e l f was not t h e l e a s t of these. By t he eighteenth

century the i n t e l l e c t u a l , sentimental and ae s the t i c p ro f i t s t o be derived

from t ravel were generally acknowledged. I t seemed t o be a good thing t o

t ake t h i s out-going r i sk . Tourism and s ightseeing -- t ravel without

commercial or t e r r i t o r i a l aims -- were taken to be useful sequences in the

education of tRe individual. ~ n d , .by extension, i t appeared t h a t society'

as a whole benefited from the foreign ventures of individual members and

that ' narratives of t ravel could contribute to the en1 ightenment and cul tural

welfare of the community as we1 1 a s to i t s commercial resources. Tourism ,b

and sightseeing were worthwhile a c t i v i t i e s in themselves, b u t bet ter yet

was the publication of the narrat ive r e su l t s of tourism.

Even in the eighteenth century few Englishmen were l i k e l y . to make an

educational tour of h e r i c a : where, then, t o eas i ly and ef fec t ive ly

acquire the prof i t s of t r ave l? Continental Europe presented i t s e l f as an - apt s i t e for t h i s a c t i v i t y , offering a t once r e l a t ive ly sa fe i t i ne ra r i e s .

and diverse novelties. In the eighteenth century the Grand Tour supplied

not only a popular holiday route fo r educated Englishmen b u t a l so an

extremely important sub-genre i n travel 1 i terature . I t s influence on L

eighteenth and nineteenth century North American travel writing was cruc ia l ,

and the l i t e r a r y values developed by Grand Tourists were those which many

European v i s i t o r s brought w i t h t h e m t o the New World.

1n the r ema indewf- th i s chapter I will consider some distinguished - exampl es of Engl iS&ra"el writ ing from the l a s t ha1 f of the eighteenth

i century. A1 1 bu two of these -- James Boswell ' s Journal of a Tour t o the 4

Hebrides and Samuel Johnson's Journey t o the Western Islands of Scotland -- a r e records of continental European t rave l . Without exception, a1 1 the

journeys recorded a r e i leasure tours i n t ha t they were undertaken without

comercib? intention di of f i c i a l purpose. These t r a v e l l e r s , a l l men of

l e t t e r s , ref lected on the theory as well as the pract ice of travel and oq

the proper l i t e r a r y expression of the i r mobility. Boswe31, Johnson,

Joseph B a r e t t i , Tobias Smo l le t t , Laurence Sterne and W i l l i a m Beck ford each

s e t o u t on t h e i r se lec ted r o u t e s w i t h ' t h e idea t h a t t o u r i s m would improve

t h e i r f rame o f mind and both S m o l l e t t and Sterne expected t h a t t h e

psycho log ica l e f f e c t s o f t r a v e l would c o n t r i b u t e t o t h e i r phys i ca l wet1 - being. These t r a v e l l e r s a r e more s o p h i s t i c a t e d w r i t e r s than t h e voyage

n a r r a t o r s o f t h e s i x t e e n t h century , w i t h t h e r e s u l t t h a t t h e i r t e x t s a r e ?'

more d i v e r s e even though t h e i r i t i n e r a r i e s were more un i fo rm. Neverthel ess ,

they addressed issues comparabl e t o those which con f ron ted t h e i r 1 ess

genteel antecedents. I n s e t t i n g ou t , t hey t o o found themselves estranged

from o r d i n a r y c u l t u r a l r e l a t i o n s -- from what Johnson c a l l e d t h e " s o c i a l

comfor ts " o f remain ing i n England.

The development o f James Boswell ' s career as a t r a v e l l e r i n i t s e l f LI

' ' suggests t h e p o s s i b l e range of response t o s o c i a l estrangement, beg inn ing '4

w i t h a s e r i e s o f i n t e n s e l y emotional b u t ephemeral attachments t o f o r e i g n

s e t t i n g s and f o r e i g n personages and moving i n t o a more reasoned detachment

f rom what were, a f t e r a1 1 , a1 i e n phenomena. Boswell ' s p lace as a man o f

1 e t t e r s was f i r s t assured by t h e pub1 i c a t i o n , i n 1768, o f h i s Account o f

Cors ica. Bu t t h i s achievement was j u s t one product o f t h e f e r t i l e l i t e r a c y

t h a t t r a n s c r i b e d t h e Grand Tour o f which t h e Cors ican v i s i t was o n l y one - episode. Behind t h e p"bl i shed t r e a t i s e l a y a massive w r i t t e n r e c o r d o f

young Boswell ' s exper ience away from home. Scholars o f t h i s cen tu ry have

organ ized t h e j o u r n a l s , correspondence and personal memoranda 'd iscovered

among t h e Malahide Cas t l e papers i n t o a sequent ia l r e p o r t o f Boswe l l ' s

t r a v e l s.

Boswell ' s reco rd o f h i s te rm ahroad i s a l so a reco rd o f h i s con-

f r o n t a t i o n w i t h some deep-seated persona1 c o n f l i c t s and confus ions , f o r

i

h i s "hypochondria" -- h i s c o n s t i t u t i o n a l tendency t o a1 t e r n a t i n g f i t s o f

melancholy and euphor ia -- had an ev iden t i n f l u e n c e on h i s documentat ion o f

h i s tra"e1s. General ly , when he i s e x u l t a n t , h i s prose i s densely d e t a i l e d ,

a p p r e c i a t i v e and d i s c u r s i v e . When he surrenders t o depress ion t h e r e c o r d

dwindles t o scant f a c t s -- a date, a name o r two, a s o c i a l occasion

g rudg ing l y descr ibed i n s imp le sentences. These f l u c t u a t i o n s i n s t y l e a r e

assoc ia ted w i t h Boswe l l ' s i d e n t i t y a n x i e t i e s , which were a m p l i f i e d by t h e

commotion o f t r a v e l . By c u t t i n g him a d r i f t from h i s n a t i v e c u l t u r a l 4

environment and, p a r t i c u l a r l y , f rom h i s f a t h e r ' s r e 1 e n t l ess mon i t i ons

rega rd ing h i s career and conduct, t r a v e l brought i n t o r e 1 i e f h i s f e e l i n g s

o f i nsecu r i t y . " When Boswell embarked from Harwich i n 1763 h i s personal a

d e s t i n y seemed t o him a l t e r n a t e l y magn i f i cen t , and d ismal . When he f e l t - most secu re l y a t tached t o h i s p o i n t o f o r i g i n and when h i s f u t u r e a t home

seemed t o him a t t r a c t i v e and promis ing, h i s d e s c r i p t i o n s o f f o r e i a scenes

a re most f l u e n t and capable. But when ideas o f r e t u r n and homecoming

suggest n e i t h e r a generous welcome nor a r e c e p t i v e audience f o r h i s ta les , .

h i s n a r r a t i v e i s most l a c o n i c and un in format ive . Wi thout a c l e a r and

s a t i s f y i n g sense o f h i s d e s t i n a t i o n , t h a t i s , w i t h o u t an o r d e r l y sense o f

h i s journey as a r o u n d - t r i p , Boswell ' s l i t e r a r y t r a v e l s a r e a poor a f f a i r .

On t h e one hand, Boswell f e l t a f i r m p r i d e i n h i s o r i g i n s and descent;

he r e c a l l e d t h e n a t i v e seat, Auchin leck, t o which he was h e i r , w i t h earnes t

sent iment and he f e l t a genuine r e s p o n s i b i l i t y t o h i s Scotch c i t t z e n s h i p .

On t h e o t h e r hand, t h e p r o t r a c t i o n o f h i s t r a v e l s abroad seems t o have

been p a r t l y an ,evasion o f h i s domestic and c i v i l o b l i g a t i o n s , and t h e

r e s u l t o f his. r e l u c t a n c e t o commit h i m s e l f t o a permanent ex i s tence a t

Auchin leck, however -d ign i f ied . such a s t a t i o n . Abroad, Boswell i s a t t h e

po in t of most e f f e c t i v e equ i l i b r ium when he can comfortably contemplate a

proper homecoming, and when he can see h imsel f as "young Boswell o f

Auchinl eck upon h i s t r a v e l s . I t Then he i s securely i d e n t i f i e d ,

hi; journeys take him, and h i s t r a v e l s are n e i t h e r waywardness

b u t a se l f-completing rou te which w i l l lead him back t o h i s po

On h i s European tour , Boswel 1 ' s most cons p i cuous concerns

Very r a r e l y does he account f o r the na tu ra l landscape, o r even

a r c h i t e c t u r a l o r h i s t o r i c a l character o f t i l s envi ronment. The

however f a r

nor evasion

i n t o f o r i g i n . p

are soc ia l .

f o r the

actua l

I' t r ave l 1 i n g i t s e l f , t ranspor t ing h imse l f from place t o place, he found an

inconvenient .process deserving on ly hasty, negat ive remark-, Boswell was

happ i l y moved and h i s expos i tory s t y l e genuinely i n s p i red when he encountered

celebrated persons, and when the enclaves o f f o re i gn soc ie ty embraced the

charmi ng young t r a v e l 1 e r from Edinburgh. He w i 11 i ngly conceded an'

"en thus ias t i c love o f great men," and throughout the p e t t y cour ts of Germany

he sought the eminent, trerrrbl i n g w i t h del i ghted awe when hospi t a l i ty admi t t e d

him t o the prec inc ts o f greatness. Af ter a splendid 1 uncheon a t the Palace

of Brunswick, he wrote: " I s a t opposi te t o Prince Ferdinand, whose presence

in'spires animated respect. He abso lu te ly e l e c t r i f i e d me. Every t ime tHat I ' .

looked a t him, I f e l t a noble shock."21 Boswel l 's s ightsee ing was t r u l y

e x u l t a n t before human symbols o f power, b u t h i s apprec ia t ion o f such specta-

c les was never completely humble o r submissive. However august the pr inces and

generals he met, i t was s t i l l James Boswell who comnanded the t a l e . He wrote:

"Wherever I come I f i n d myse l f loved" (p, 117), and that was s u f f i c i e n t

reason f o r journeying on. While he was uncer ta in o f the q u a l i t y of h i s -

recept ion a t home, Boswell found i t a p r o f i t a b l e business t o e x p l o i t the

h o s p i t a l i t y o f f o re i gn c i r c l e s and f i n d h imse l f a t home elsewhere. He was

aware o f his own re luc tance t o conclude h i s t r ave l s and h i s accumulation o f

evanescent soc ia l attachments. Ending and fo rsak ing mobi 1 i t y d

f o r the grave commitments of a a t h r e a t t o mind

and temper and hope. Before leav ing southern s i t es , he

wrote t o a conf idante: "I am w e l l ag i t a ted by a v a r i e t y

o f new scenes. But when I s h a l l t y o f Scotland, I . - dread much a re lapse i n t o the gloomy d i s mper" (p. 296).

. . Boswell d i d eventua l ly res ign himse !- f t o h i s dest iny -and dest inat idn,

r e tu rn t o h i s fa ther ' s ' and expectat ions, . , and accustom

himsel f t o "un i fo rm i ty " He wasb s t i l l a very young man

when he disembarked t h the exception o f h i s near ly

annual, hol idays i n London, h i s nex t i por tan t excursioq was the tour he t made o f the Highlands and Hebrides w i t h D r . Johnson i n 1773, when Boswell

I

was t h i r t y - t h r e e and l e f t behind him i n ~ d i n b u r ~ h a wi fe , fami ly and h

es tab1 ished profession. Now i t was c l e a r whence he came and t o what he wou1,d

re tu rn . His t r ave l s no,' longer had the compensatory func t ion of making up

fo r h i s soc ia l and f i l i a l * i n s e c u r i t y w i t h en thus ias t i c f o re i gn attachments.

I n h i s account o f t h i s expedtt ion, we read o f no more e l e c t r i f i c a t i o n s o r

corpora l "shocks. " Occasional l y , f l uctuat ions i n pleasure and mood are

recorded, b u t on ly as apologies from the dens i ty o r a t tenua t ion o f the

na r ra t i ve . The f r i e n d l y welcome accorded the p a i r o f t o u r i s t s by Highland

and I s l a n d res idents t ranspor ted Boswell t o no raptures o f self-esteem as the

h o s p i t a l i t y o f the ~ e m n cour ts had done n ine years e a r l i e r . Boswell d i d

n o t need t o be loved by these foreigners. His method of t r a v e l and

observat ion served new goats: the demonstration of a moderate, jud ic fous

i n t e l l e c t and the p a r t i c u l a r sc ru t i ny of h i s i l l u s t r i o u s companion, Samuel

Johnson. , .

Boswell was suitably aware of himself as the companion of Dr. Johnson, -

not only in the matter of his conduct, which he adjusted t o Johnson's

standards, b u t as well in his documentary technique and in his narrative motive.

He and Dr. Johnson, he, te l ls the reader, were moved t o undertake the

excursion %by "a notion t h a t we might. . .contemplate a system of 1 i fe almost u

totally different ,from w h a t we had been accustomed to see; a n d , to find

simplicity and wildness, and a l l the circumstances of remote time or place,

so n e y to our native great island, was an object within the reach of reason-

able iur iosi ty. '12* This la ter expedition, then, has much more the character

d intellectual exercise t h a n does the earlier Grand Tour. Boswell i s B .

certainly under Johnson's philosophical patronage on this tour; h e

anticipates the design of the Life of Johnson in stimulating a n d recording Ib

Johnson's voice and opinions, and accepts his model of temperate

discrimination and speculation. And Johnson's regard for ~ o z z i e i s here

a major theme, as i t i s in the Life. Johnson read his companion's record

as the journey progressed, and a t one station remarked, t o Boswell ' s

satisfaction, "'The more I read of this, I think the more highly of you"'

(p. t 2 6 2 ) . Boswell was s t i l l using travel to win the re.gard of others, b u t

in a much more sophisticated way. Now the a r t

-- the pages offered hopefully to Johnson, and

home and in London -- i s the recogni zed goal . acceptable t o a home audience. Having taken h

cul a t i on of the experience

to the intended audience a t

Boswell was making a document

s place in the society to

which his composition i s addressed, he writes a much more conventionally

t. informative and pub1 i c narrati-ve.

3 Although Boswell's reverence for Johnson i s evident throughout the

Journal of a Tour to. the Hebrides, a subtle detachment from his preceptor

introduces the reader t o another'mode of travel, Johnson's own. A t

Ulinish, on Skye, we find Johnson's receptivity to new impressions in

question. We hear him, for a l l his "reasonable curiosity," instructing

rather than inquiring. "Last night,'' writes Boswell , "Dr. Johnson gave us

an account of the whole process of tanning, -- and the nature of milk, and

the various operations on i t , as making whey, etc." (p. 246). And Johnson's

habitual scepticism receives similarly delicate emphasis, leaving i t

even more conspicuous in this volume t h a n i t i s in Johnson ' s own account of

. the tour . As their solicitous hosts present t o the travellers spectacle

after spectacle, Johnson and Boswell artfully reduce each

quential proportions, or unremarkable antiquity. On view

reputed to be of very great depth, Johnson rapidly minimi

wonder t o inconse-

ing a pri son-hole

zes i t s dimensions

t h a t i t might be accommodated by the range of probability. In reporting

this instance of Johnson's tendency t o revise received information,

Boswell notes that Johnson i s "very quick in shewing t h a t he does n o t give

credit to careless or exaggerated accounts of things" (p; 293).

This kind of lively ratiocination i s the central action of Johnson's

Journey t o the Western Islands of Scotland. Boswell , in the Life, comnends

Johnson's account for i t s abundance of "philosophical views," and adds t h a t

a "considerable part of i t , indeed, consists of speculations which many years

before he saw the wild regions we visited together, probably had employed his

attention, though the actual sight of these scene~undoubtedly quickened and /

augnented them. "23 Boswell ' s insightful analysib of Johnson's travel style

leads one to ask i f Johnson need ever have l e f t London if on his passage to -

unfami1.i~ k r r i t u ~ i e s h e w b s to be laden w-itk this baggage ef preconceptions

-- the most notorious of which was his prejudice against Scots and Scotland.

Johnson himself did equivocate on the value of exotica, on the one hand

feel i ng t h a t novel experience and informative contrasts were respectable

mot

En g

has

a1 1

ives for travel, and on the other hand, insist ing that ten yeaw in

land were worth more than ten years and f 20,000 in India: " 'a man who

1 ived ten years in India, has given up ten years of social comforts and

the advantages which ar ise from living in England"' (Life, 111, 400).

His abhorrence of the cultural vacuity into which the emigrant plunges co-

.existed w i t h an equally vivid at traction to certain foreign spectacles. 24 .

"He talked with uncomnon animation of travelling into distant countries; that /.

the mind was enlarged by i t , and that an acquisition of dignity of

character was derived from i t . He expressed a particular enthusiasm with

respect to visi t ing the wall of China" (Life, 111, 269). Such a project was,

indeed, an uncomnonly "animated" or even fanciful notion for ~bhnson t % . /

entertain, suggesting t h a t the idea of travel was peculiarly at tractive to his

imagination. However, 1 es t imaginatfwf dictate the event, his advice to

travel lers , in parti cul ar and in general, recommended the vi gi 1 a n t exercise

of reason over impression, always with the injunction to record the exercise.

The verbal record -- objective, comprehensive and instructive - - would confirm

the advantage of mobility, lending i t form and, with form, value. Further,

'accurate and coherent documentation would stand between the t ravel lerand the

strange void facing him once he abandoned ,the "social comforts" of staying

a t home.

Nei ther -Johnson nor Boswell was remarkable for sensi t iv i ty to the natural

1 andscape . 25 Johnson, however, while experiencing no ecstasy over the

Caledonian wilderness he visited, valued the ideas i t aroused in him. The

appearance of the "wide extent of hopeless s t e r i l i t y " which he witnessed in

the Highlands was t h a t of "matter incapable of form or usefulness, dismissed

by nature from her care a n d disinherited of her favours, l e f t in i t s

o r i g i n a l elemental s t a t e , o r quickened on ly w i t h one s u l l e n power o f useless

vegeta t ion . l tZ6 B u t d i d such an experience of f o r l o r n d i s u t i l i ty a c t u a l l y

c o n t r i b u t e t o " d i g n i t y o f character," and widen awareness? Could the would-

be t r a v e l l e r n o t have res ted on r e l i a b l e evidence of such phenomena and

stayed home? Well, no, thought Johnson. A t the peak of comprehension, the

mind sees t o know, and sees t o f u n c t i o n most e x q u i s i t e l y : "As we see more,

we become possessed of more c e r t a i n t i e s , and found a w ider bas i s of analogy"

(p. 40). This idea o f t he c o n t r i b u t i o n made by f i r s t h a n d experience

i m p l i c i t l y c r e d i t s a f a c u l t y beyond the r a t i o n a l , f o r which r e l i a b l e

secondhand documentation woul d have su f f i ced . S i ghtseeing supposes a k i n d

o f mental absorp t ion which, w h i l e n o t e x a c t l y imaginat ive, of fers t h e

oppor tun i t y t o r e f i n e know1 edge and understanding through re f1 e c t i ve

concent ra t ion on a provocat ive scene. The deser t through which Johnson

t r a v e l s becomes p a r t o f an i l l u m i n a t i n g analogy which argues c e r t a i n

fundamental p r i n c i p l e s o f t h e human c o n d i t i o n : " the e v i l s o f d e r e l i c t i o n

rush upon the thoughts; man i s made u n w i l l i n g l y acquainted w i t h h i s own

weakness, and medi t a t i o n shews him on ly how l i t t l e he can sus ta in , and

how l i t t l e he can perform" (p. 40). These un ive rsa l concepts a re mental

formulat ions t h a t f i n d u t te rance through t h e event fu l encounter between the

t r a v e l l e r and t h e scene. They e x i s t e d before Johnson saw t h e Highland summits,

and they p e r s i s t though he departs. It i s t h e i r a r t i c u l a t i o n which i s

effected by t h e personal journey. I n t h i s , t h e proposal f o r t r a v e l i s proper:

the t o u r and t h e Journey become an a c t i o n t o s t r u c t u r e d iscourse and dramatize

the events of t h e mind.

One o f the themes of t h i s book i s the aes the t i c of measurement. Johnson

was r e p e l l e d by t h e f l a g r a n t inaccuracies of t r a v e l books, and t h e neg l i gen t

acquiescence o f t r a v e l 1 ers i n t h e fa1 l a c i e s of i nd i genous fo1 k t r a d i t ions .

- - -

Early i n his tour he mb,thodically estimated the profundity of Loch Ness - a t much less than i t s turbid waters had traditionally suggested. The-

exercise'must bave been gratifying for, from this point, he allowed full

rein t o the correctfte impulse, continual ly adjusting received report and

reducing the extraordinary to the ordinary. His passion for mensuration

leads him t o declare that "no man should travel unprovided with instruments

for taking heights and distances" ( p . 146). Johnson believes t h a t once a

marv embarks i t " i s his mdra7 obligation t o assess and gauge, and t o maintain

his rational objectivity with the help of whatever-portable apparatus, And

the traveller, in the Journey, emerges as a peculiarly gifted and enriched

observer by virtue of his detachment from the irrational prej"dices of

1 ocale and community. <

Johnson recommends n o t

the travel 1 er b u t as we1 1 a

order t o recover as much of '

and not delayed t o leisure.

only the essential equipment t o be carried by

technique for impeccable documentation. In

truth as possible, the record must be imnediate

"To.. .dilatory notation must be imputed the false

relations of travellers, where there i s no lmaginable motive t o deceive. 1

. They trusted t o memory, what cannot be trusted safely b u t to the eye, and :

told by gues.s w h a t a few hours before they had known with certaintg" (p,147).

Aware of the inevitable disparities between physical evidence and verbal - P

evidence, Johnson suggests t h a t the interval between obseriation a n d nota t ion

be abbreviated as fa r as possible, Ideally, event and report wu1Q cbfncide,

and physical and verbal reali t ies merge. This coincidence can be on$ an . '

ideal, b u t the conscientious travel wri ter can imi tate the ideal by fore-

s ta l l i ng the devious intervention of imagination which beg&s to .convert

external reali t ies into literary reali t ies almost as soon as ?bservation has

, "

M w t p f m . In h i s i n j m c t i m s t o t ravel wr i te rs , Johnson recognizes the

pressures exerted on the t ravel narrator by his rhetorical s i tua t ion . His

audience wants news of prodigies and marvels, b u t within a documentary frame

(so tba t hyperbole and exaggeration are mendacious ra ther than merely

invent ive) . I f foreign p l a c ~ s are ordinary and c o ~ n p f a c e , and I

indistinguishable f m fami 1 i 9 r ' places, there i s no occasion fo r narrat ion.

That Johnsun's only ?qn$ f ict ion, Rasselas, was aft exot ic t a t e of

i t i n e r a n t education confirms the supposition tha t the idea of travel held

some important matter for him. Rasselas, which was written th i r teen years

before Journey to the Western Islands, ant ic ipates the l a t e r work in

attacking "whispers o f fancy," "phantoms of hope," and a l l imoderate credul i ty ,

and Rasselas' tour under the supervision of Imlac i s chief ly a process

o f becoming disabused od f a l se expectations. Only superf ic ia l ly i s i t a

negative process. A t a deeper level i t i s a posit ive exertion of i n t e l l e c t

a n d a declaration of the vir i f i ty of the mind. To confound Rasselas '

~hi losoph ica l enthusiams o r kkayah ' s pastoral fan tas ies gives Johnson

s ~ e c i a l aes the t ic pleasure. For h i m there i s a moral beauty i n such

detections o f e r ror .

In Rasselas Johnson draws on the vast metaphorical resources of

trayel . Relocation, t r a n s i t , geography are a l l f igura t ive indications of

facets and phases i n human existence. Nonetheless, Johnson respected travel

as an eventful personal occasion. His own tour o f the Hebrides was scarcely - rretaphorical, and i t was i t s h i s tor ica l ac tua l i ty tha t provided the meaning

- -

o f Journey to the Western Islands. His advice to other t r ave l l e r s

cons i s t en t ly represented the formal obligation of t h e i r en terpr i se , and

consi s tent iy r e c m n d e d the e f f o r t o f responsible, 1 i t e ra l notation.

Joseph Baretti, in particular, was so instructed t o kc?& "an exact P

journal, a n d t o register all occurrences and observations; for your friends n n Bi

here expectsuch a book of travels as has not often been seen. ' Johnsont s

influepce and encouragement are acknowledged by Baretti in his preface t o

Journey from London to Genoa, where he attribute his exhaustive method t o

"my most revgrend friend Dr. Samuel Johnson, who suggested i t t o me, just as t

I was setting o u t on my f i r s t journey t o Spain. I t was _he t h a t exhorted me t

to write daily, and with al l possible minuteness: i t was he u t h a t pointed

o u t the topics which would moi t interest, and most delight in. a future

pub1 ication. "29 Baretti embarked from London in 1760 to revisit his family

in Milan; nearly ten years earlier he had come to England from Piedmont to

avoid the persecution his sa t i r ic writing had aroused a t home. In London

he met Johnson, a n d , among Johnson's intimates, the Thrales, in whose home

he was for some years employed as a t u to r . Before he revisited Italy, he

had eitablished a literary reputation with his Italian and English

Dictionary.

Baretti selected his route n o t for a rneregy expeditious passage, b u t for

me intellectual adventure i t would offer by' tarrying him through

terri tories with which he was unfamiliar and introducing him to societies of

which he was ignorant. His choice favoured Portugal and Spain, and his

experiences in these countries are the central matter of his narrative.

Baretti was a robust traveller , undeterred by obstacle or oddity , axi

resistant to most o f the anxieties which travel can induce. That is no t t o

say t h a t he was uiisuscept7bTG t o Tow spi r i t s , b u t t h a t he stoutly dismissed

mlancholic apprehensions as inappropriate to his purpose. Only in good

h1mur does he write, and advises other itinerant writers t o do the same.

u

Melancholy preoccupation and peevishness were, he believed, sorry vehicles . PZ

for the 1 i terary travel lev, 1 iable to digression and inattention.

The distinction of Journey from London to Genoa i s i t s original view

of the comonal ty of the Peninsula in the eighteenth century. The vulgar

.classes captured Baretti 's interest and his theme is avowedly social. I n

accounts of the' Madrid aristocracy his mood i s appreci a t

aloof; in descriptions of innkeepers, beggars, soldiers,

Baretti ' s prose quickens, reconstructing the ventures of

into t h e ' lower strata of the Iberian comnuni ty. However

ve and tolerant b u t

clerics and ruffians

the k g 1 o- I tal ian

when the

po ulation thins, in more remote provinces, the narrative dwindles. P Demographic sparsity means l i t t l e to see, and l i t t l e t o say. When he i s

confronted with barren.terrai.n, he attempts t o wring some expressible

sentiment from i t through the contemplative mode: "After having considered

the awfulness of the solitary wilderness, I 'sat myself down on a stone, and

said t o myself: 'What a place for meditation i s here, i n the midst of this

eternal-abode of silence! here i s no man, no beast, no bird, nothing t o make

the least noise. Let me sink into some reverie, and try how far my

undisturbed thoughts will go" (gk, 155-56). A1 though he i s in comnand of the

diction of contemplation -- "the awfulness of the solitary wilderness , I 1

".this eternal abode of silence" -- Baretti follows his reverie not t o

elevations o f heightened sensibility b u t to the image of a pleasing wench

he had l e f t behind some stages back. His sub1 ime intentions are vanquished

and h e must abandon h i s project: "The more I struggled t o get rid of her,

the more she engrossed ny thoughts, and no other image could I substitute in

the place" (11, 156). He does eventually disengage himself from the

recollected embrace of the nymph, and strides indignantly away from the -- --

scene of this lewd meditation. Of course, habitually reflective t ravel lers

are as much the b u t t of the joke as Baretti himself, for he calls into

question the refined speculations which 'tourists typically attribute to their n

sightseei ng'. Their meditations may be more meri tricious t h a n authentic.

However, although Baretti finds none of the "wider basis of analogy" which

Johnson discovered i n the Caledonian wilderness, he i s able to make something

of the scene by following Johnson's counsel. The setting i s enhanced by a 1

group of shepherds and their flock; Baretti admits the pastoral implications

b u t neglects them in favour of the informational potential of the scene. He

accosts the herdsmen, n o t t o stage for his memoirs a rustic tableau b u t to

interrogate them as to the specifics of their husbandry, migrations and

markets. The elements of the exotic pastoral are dismantled, and information

i s collected and recorded in the interests of objective documentation and c

some sober speculation on the various flavours of mutton. e -

Baretti 's greatest excitement between London and Genoa i s his discovery '

of the habi t of extempore poetic ;composi tion among the Span is h 1 ower cl asses.

The discovery i s more than instructive for i t i s an event, a heightened x

action in the narrative., Baretti triumphs in his new-found data and

expresses surprise that no other traveller had ever returned with this ** - .?>'"

enviable information. " S U C ~ , " he says, " i s €he inattention with which

travel Iers c r o s s countries, even those who do i t with their qui 11s in their

hands! " ( I , 338-39). Indeed, the traveller equipped w i t h a pen may be most

vulnerable to this gross inattention. The writer of travels i s likely t o

be also a reader of travels and indoctrinated w i t h the generalizations that

are the stuff of travel writing to the point where he i s incapable of

original perception. The conventions of travel writing are seen by Baretti

t o be not only formal b u t t o pertain t o content as we1 1. The 'network of

inter-textual relations which influenced North Arne ican voyage -narrative as

early as the sixteenth century had become a const J aining web of . orthodoxy . in

eighteenth-century European travel narrative. Once travel writers have i

"copied o u t of each the litany of national prejudices,

reiterating banal pre nceptions of the loquacity of the French or the fP indolent pride of the Spanish, "the greatest part of itinerant writers think

t h a t they have done great matters, and t h a t they are int i tled t o challenge

abundance of respect fom their own countrymen " ( I , 339). Like Johnson,

Baretti i s contemptuous of the habi t s t h a t thus perpetrate slanderous false-

hood and depreciate rather t h a n enhance man's comprehension. A1 though

national peculiarities are his business, Baretti insists t h a t they be

original ly perceived and unencumbered by preconception. This intel lectual

independence and wholesome detachment i s accessible, "were we b u t wi 11 ing .- rC

t o shake off our own mental idleness, Tay aside our national prejudices, and

exert our faculties in the easy discovery of our perceptions" (11, 2 ) . d

In spite of his devotion t o expository investigation, Baretti and his fi

material occasionally part company, and writing serves a purpose beyond

exposition. During a period when foul accommodation and rancid meals

threaten' his equanimity, Baretti confesses that he wri tes "rather t o divert

the disagreeable effect on. my sp i r i t s , t h a n with a view to prove. instructive

or entertaining." Here,. comnentary answers feelings of disp'i~acement-,

bnetiness and b iswien+at im. EvenWally, Baretti acknowledges these

functions of his narration when he finds himself writing when there i s nothing

t o write about: "the habit of scribbling i s now so strong, that I must be

a t i t whether I have a subject or n o t , and must te l l no t only what I have

heard o r seen during the day, but even some par t of what 1 have thought.. . ." 1 , 1 4 3 ) Writing keeps his mental house in order, measuring h is dai ly

progress and documenting h is whereabouts i n t h i s foreign place.

Perhaps overburdened with the idea of Johnson as a, reader of his

narrat ive, Barett i f r e t s about the overall judiciousness of h i s

composition and regrets those sections which seem t o undercut his purpose

of thorough-going objec t iv i ty . -In his preface he expresses the hope t h a t

the proportion between subjec t iv i ty and detachment in his narrat ive will

favour the l a t t e r su f f i c i en t ly to c red i t his volumes. He recommends his

conscientious e f f o r t t o the reader, b u t adds t h a t his "only f e a r upon t h i s

occasion i s , t ha t some want of dexter i ty i n the management of my narrat ive 9 m y jus t ly have subjected mk to the charge of egotism, as I am convinced t h a t

I have passed too frequently from my subject t o myself, and made m y s e l h

much too often the hero of my own story. "

If Barett i exercised every avai lable precaution against the egotism of

cer ta in ty , Smollett, who t ravel led on the continent three years a f t e r

Barett i but whose memoirs were published before h i s , f e l t no such humility.

Travels through France and'Italy i s notorious not only for the i r r a sc i b i l i ty

and bad temper of the t r ave l l e r b u t a l so fo< the audacity of his unreserved

general i zations . Smol 1 e t t f reely appl i es his scept ical facul t i e s to every

object b u t the 1 imitations of his own comprehension. Like Johnson, he

scru t in izes a1 1 received information -- reducing the circumference of Paris

t o something less t h a n c o m n s u r a t e w i t h the combined extent of London and

'des trni ns t e r , and habi tual ly minimizing the reported revenues of princes and

o r inc ipa l i t i e s -- b u t he has less of Johnson's subt lety fo r he f lagrant ly

invokes Bri t ish standards in his mastirerrrent. Magnitude, in Travels through

France and I t a ly , i s always estimated by reference to comparable (or

incomparable) Bri t ish phenomena, f o r Smol l e t t never surrenders to his

context. He gags on foreign cuis ine, demands meat on meagre days; pays

three l iv res when four a re the pr ice. Versail les, compared to English

mansions of cheerfulness, neatness and convenience, i s a "dismal

habitation. The apartments are dark, i 11 furnished and unprincely. "30 In

Rome he views' a celebrated work of Raphael, and t e l l s his readers, " i f i t

were mine, I would cu t i t i n two par t s . . . . " Such wanton desecrations abound

in Travels, and slanders and calumnies r u n apace in the form of

breathtaking general i zations . Smol l e t t , who f e l t a ferocious antipathy

to oma an Catholicism, suggests tha t the church harbours a l l Gpes of criminals

and felons, and i n s i s t s t ha t "nothing i s more common, than to see the most

execrable vi 1 la ins divert ing themselves i n . the cloysters of some convents

in Rome" ( p . 188). Worst of a l l , these indefensible prejudices a re

embosomed i n a docutwntary s t y l e which attempts s c i e n t i f i c and rational

analysis. . .

I t i s exhi larat ing to c o l l e c t such abominations and pursue the

xenophobe t o his den, b u t the zeal of the chase may obscure the qua l i t i e s of

the narrat ive tha t evoke runaway readings. Smollett 's bold attacks on his

foreign hosts a re vigorous, declamatory and v i r tua l ly i r r e s i s t i b l e . When

he i s on the road, v i s i t i ng one dreadful hostel a f t e r another, the

narration proceeds with captivating veloci ty. @

S m f f e t t ' s sense of trimelf as, a victim contributes to the energy o f y

t a . Re tvttr-i-s t ' i; 5eeiaf i sol 8tim is e x m i t t & t o an

extrerw o f nearly intolerable al ienat ion as Smollett displays his genius f o r

distinguishing himself as the focus of a c m n i t y ' s h o s t i l i t y t o -

I

f o re igne rs . From numerous scenes o f c o n t e n t i o n between t h e t r a v e l l e r and

the s o c i e t i e s through which he t h e i dea t h a t n o t o n l y does the

t r a v e l l e r despise the hos t , - b u t t he despises the t r a v e l l e r . The endless

d e s c r i p t i o n s o f h i d e o & l y f i l t h y , i n f e s t e d i nns and rapacious inn-keepers a r e

e n t e r t a i n i n g , b u t we soon f i n d t h a t t h i s i s more than a joke, and t h a t t h e t

t r a v e l l e r i s t rapped i n a lawless r e g i o n where t h e most fundamental p r i n c i p l e s

o f decency and fa i rness a re ignored. Abroad, the t r a v e l l e r i s a t t he mercy

of t h i s anarchy and c o r r u p t i o n , which seem t o concern h i s very s u r v i v a l .

One i n c i d e n t , f rom the t r i p between Nice and Rome, w i 11 demonstrate t h e

i n t e n s i t y . w i t h which S m o l l e t t perce ived h i s s i t u a t i o n :

A t the post-house i n L e r i c i , t he accomodat ion i s i n t o l e r a b l e . We were a lmost poisoned a t supper. I found t h e p lace where I was t o l i e so c l o s e and conf ined, t h a t I cou ld n o t b rea the i n it, and t h e r e f o r e l a y a1 1 n i g h t i n an outward room upon f o u r cha i r s ,

4 w i t h a l e a t h e r n portmanteau f o r my p i l l o w . For t h i s en ter ta inment I p a i d very near a l o u i ' d o r e (p . 275).

So, a f t e r near-poisoning, n e a r - s u f f o c a t i o n and e x t o r t i o n , t h e v i c t i m r i d e s

on, b u t n o t w i t h o u t v o c i f e r o u s l y denouncing t h i s m u t i l a t i o n o f h i s s e n s i b i l i t y . '

Indeed, Smo1 l e t t seems t o t r a v e l under cond i t i ons n e a r l y as p e r i l o u s as

those faced by t r a v e l l e r s among h o s t i l e n a t i v e s i n Nor th America.

There i s an unexpected conc l us ion t o Smol l e t t ' s tempestuous

p e r e g r i n a t i o n . A f t e r h i s I t a l i a n e x p e d i t i o n he es t imates the o v e r a l l e f f e c t

of the endeavour on h i s c o n s t i t u t i o n . Although he has been sub jec ted t o two

months o f pe rpe tua l a g i t a t i o n , he be l i eves t h a t t h e exper ience has a r r e s t e d

the morbid " r e l a x a t i o n o f the f i b r e s " which had acce le ra ted h i s phys i ca l

d e c l i n e . " I am convinced," he w r i t e s , " t h a t t h i s hard e x e r c i s e o f mind

a d body cooperated w i t h the change of a i r and o b j e c t s to brace up t h e

relaxed c o n s t i t u t i o n , and ~ r m t e a mre vigorous c i r c u l a t i o n o f t he j u i c e s ,

whit", had l o n g l angu ished even a l m s t t o s tagna t i on " (p. 383). The journey

i a s been the rapeu t i c : Sml l e t t can a t t r i b u t e h i s cure to t he wholesom

outrage which excited h i m ou t of his moribund complacency and which was

inspi red by a1 1 those unscrupulous foreign 1 and1 ords and rascal ly drivers.

In The Expedition of Humphry Clinker, published five years af ter Travels

through France and Italy, Smollett again p u t t o use the prose structures of

travel. Humphry Cl inker i s a fiction b u t not a novel . The itinerary of the

six tourists i s ,of far more consequence in creating situations for

commentary than are the slim contrivances of the plot. Also, exposition on

the customs and economy of Scotland consume many of the later pages of the

book, This rnateri,al i s travel content, neither inventive nor fictipfal , b u t

factual and analytic. Further, Humph~y Clinker i s an epistolary narvati ve,

made up of the.letters-home of the five touring characters.

Humphry Clinker i s an example of the way the rhetorical structures of

travel narrative can be applied t o 'domestic scenes. ' his tour of Britain

, i s a d a s s e d t o a British audience -- and, in t h a t , i t apparently trespasses

one of the basic, conventions of travel narrative, namely, t h a t the commentary

i s never addreised to i ti subject. B u t when this s;ipulation i s broached,

some interesting effects result: f i r s t , the travel -arti s t becomes an a1 ien

in his own country. He views every object as a sightseer, every prospect -

as an uninvolved tourist and outsider. Morally, he comes from elsewhere.

From his a1 ienation comes the second effect: i t becomes his 1 i terary

responsi b i 1 i ty t o i n9es tigate, describe and explain phenomena which are, to

the citizen, familiar and nondescript. Through this exposition broad sa t i r ic

purpose can be achieved. Travel narrative assumes t h a t the writer and his

a&%snce share a cetrrr#tn mr%i'l and cultural vieg different from the de\d held

by the subject-comnunity: when a domestic audience i s suddenly called upon

to acquiesce in the writer 's convictions (and the rhetorical structures of

the travel genre demand this acquiescence from the reader) and the convictions

are those of an alien in his own nation, a l l social and ethical assumptions

are called into question. To apply the traveller 's view to familiar scenes

i s t o attempt a cr i t ical detachment, and t o ask the audience t o assume an

equivalent objectivity. Something of the same effect i s achieved when the

foreign society which a traveller has described for his own countrymen has

access t o the traveT text. This happened when Americans read Frances

Trollope's Domestic Manners of the Americans. B u t that was an adventitious,

extra-textual event. When i t i s part of the literary project, as i t i s in

Humphry Clinker, o r in Thomas Hal iburton's The Clockmaker, the peripatetic

view of the alien becomes a rich rhetorical device. I t i s a functional

device because i t cah exploi t the conventional structures of travel narrative.

Humphry Clinker presents a more sophisticated view of travel attitudes

than Travels thorugh France and Italy does, for the widely disparate

responses of the five letter-wri ters suggest the effect of personality and

point of view in travel commentary. S t i l l , i t did not wholly vindicate i t s

author '> reputation as an opinionated and acrimonious travel ler . Sterne

wickedly ridiculed Smoll e t t ' s travel-temper in the figure of Smel fungus in -%

A Sentimental Journey through France and Italy: "The learned SMELFUNGUS

travelled from Bulogne t o Paris -- from Paris t o Rome -- and so on -- b u t

he se t o u t with the spleen and jaundice, and every object he passed was

discol~ured or distorted -- He wrote an account of them, b u t 'Was nothing

b u t the account of his miserable feelings. "31 Sterne repudiates n o t the . . subjectivity of Smelfungus' account b u t the subject himself; he attacks not

the prominence of "feelings ," b u t their miserableness. Like Baretti , Sterne

makes - his journeys in determined good huwur and magnanimous sp i r i t . ~ h i l ;

Smolf ett reveals h i s own i s o l a t i o n a ~ d a l i w t a t i m i n twvel, S t w n e discovers

the mutual i t y o f f ee l i n g among men. Sterne t r ave l s " t o l o v e the wor ld

be t t e r ; " Smol le t t t r ave l s t o sharpen h i s disdain. However, i n s p i t e o f t h i s / I r a d i c a l divergence i n t he i r i n ten t i ons , the s i m i l a r i t y between Sterne and

Smol let t? as t r ave l wri,ters, i s more s t r i k i n g than the d i s t i n c t i o n . Nei ther b

Smol l e t t nor Sterne c u l ti vated the dispassionate a t t i t u d e s o f o b j e c t i v i ty ,

and both w r i t e r s r e l i e d on t h e i r h e c t i c p a r t i a l i t y t o supply the mate r ia l s

of t h e i r t r ave l comnentaries. I n t h a t i t i s d is t ingu ished by vehement

fee l ings , Travels through France and I t a l y i s n o t less sentimental than

A Sentimental Journey.

'A sentimental" Journey i s sometimes c a l l e d a novel, an h o n o r i f i c t i t l e V

intended t o g ive Sterne' s n a r r a t i v e a respectable l i t e r a r y s ta tus. But .it

has thak, fo r i t i s t r a v e l n a r r a t i v e and no t a novel. A Sentimental Journey

i s the o f f sp r ing o f Sterne' s 1765-66 tou r of the con t inen t and i t bows t o

the conventions o f the t r ave l genre, a l b e i t w i t h much supple comedy. L ike

, . o ther 1 i te ra ry t r a v e l l e r s , Sterne's Yorick takes ca re fu l i f e r r a t i c note o f

h i s accomnodations, h i s d i e t , h i s expenses, h i s servant;- L i ke o ther

t r a v e l l e r s he looks f o r the na t iona l p e c u l i a r i t i e s which remind him he i s

abroad and n o t a t home. ' ~ n d a l l these observations maintain the cen t ra l

assumption t h a t the senti&-ntal imaginat ion w i l l be exercised and .the

affec't ions enlarged by d iverse c o m r c e w i t h human nature.

While he s i t s i n an i m b i l e ca r r iage a t Calais, scarce ly abroad a t -

a1 1 , Yorick composes h i s preface, formula t ing h i s idea o f t r a v e l , and the

a g i t a t i o n and v i b r a t i o n o f composition s e t the veh ic le i n G i o n . Yor i ck

i s under way and h i s mmentum estab l ished before the horses a r e harnessed,

for the rea l motive p m r behind the jou-rney seems to be the des i re ;to w r i t e

rather than the desire to go abroad. Travel provides Sterne w i t h a l i terary

form more than i t does a l i t e ra ry occasion and, i n th is , actual travel i s

on the way t o becoming unnecessary. Long before the end of the eighteenth

century, the travel genre had a l i f e of i t s own, independent. of the comings

and goings of i t s practitioners. So autonomous was i t that i t could stand

u p t o Sterne's burlesque version.

Sterne embarked ,from England i n 1765 in quest of heal t h y the same

treasure a f t e r which Smoll e t t hastened. And, 1 i ke Smol l e t t , he discovered

a cure in the agit$tion of travel i d f . Yorick's @motional participation

-- sympathetic, lascivious, charitable or grateful -- in the human scenes '

he encounters i s a restorative administered to his languishing s p i r i t ,

stimulating his blood t o course th rough his heart and brain. The rush of --!

*

- health a n d feeling i s translated into. a flow of ink, and the fluent record

carries .the traveller forward to fresh scenes. Thus transported, the earnest

t raveller will never lack a subject for vivifying reflection, for once his

momentum i s established, he can rely on his sentient receptivity to supply , .

* .! his pen. As Johnson advised Boswell t h a t anything and everything should

quicken curiosi ty, as Baretti found himself writing when there was 7

apparently nothing t o write about, so Yorick estimates .as in f in i te his own

ca.pacity for ingenious attention:

I declare, said I , clapping my hands chearily together, that was 1 in a desert, I would find ou t wherewith in i t to cal l forth my affections -- I f I couTd no t do better, I wouTd fasten them upon some sweet myrtle, or seek sum melan~h~oly press t o connect myself to -- 1 m M e w r + tke.i-+-skitde, w g m e t zfi" em~mtfyfotc Hteir protection - - I would cut my name upon them, and swear they were the love1 i e s t trees throughout the desert; i f the i r leaves withered, 1 woul d teach mysel f t o mourn , and when they rejoiced, I would rejoice along with them (p. 51 ) .

- 9 .

73 r

li . 9

L

When this capacity for feeling is e-xp&d to enliven wy location, itinerary -. becomes rather unimportant. The traveller could be anywhere, or nowhere, and

s t i l l make his sentimental sortie;. Indeed, he may not have to leave,home - a t ' aq l .

In William Beckford's travel narratives we find virtually all the

elements so far iso1ated.a~ aspects of the travel genre in the eighteenth

century (with the exception of Smal le t t , ' s excited moral vehemence) : there

i s the intense record of the fluctuations of a hypersensitive temperament

t h a t appea~ed in Boswell's early memoirs; there i s Sterne's urgent desire

for affecting psychological events t o be wrung from the passing' scene; and

there i s , finally, even some of Johnson's and ~ a r e t t i ' s intellectual

and social organization. A t the same time, . i s a curiously voluntary form of autobiography --

the making of a story in which he could document his actions as a hero.

Beckford's f i r s t published composition, A .Vision: Manuscript of a

Romance, was travel fantasy, accepting only the thinnest contribution from -t

r'ealism for i t s premise, H; wrote i t a t seventeen, while he was abroad, and

i t s chief concern i s the traveller 's dream-like penetration t o the

s u b t e r r d o n s of the earth and his acquisition of visionary moral

experience. Dreams, Waking Thoughts and Incidents, an account of Beckford's

ten-month tour abroad t h a t began in June 1780, i s a much more mature work.

In some way i t is contiguous with A Vision, b u t more ambitious in that i t - - -

attempts t o contain mystical speculation and rational analysis in the same 7

- - - -- -- -- - t ,- -

vehicle. The result i s a pair of journeys, one of wh~ch i s

meditative and inventive, the other documentary, The imaginative tour

carries Beckford through most of the book, only t o be syperseded in i t s

final leg by an analytic conclusion that organizes a mass of definitive

# G

74 . *

, '" - - -- --- --- L+ - - -

observations into a political overview of the European continent. The las t , P

-letter i s virtually Johnsonian i n purpose and execution and a l l the

more striking because i t retraces the same route as the f ips t twenty-six

le t te rs , to an a1 together different destination.

The yery t i t l e of the book announces Beckford's sense of which route

exerted the greatest attraction. No geographical plot i s remarked, even

in the subtitle. "Dream" have top-bill ing, followed by "waking thoughts" L.

-

and the psychological connection between fantasy and fact -- the so-called

incidents. The focus of the "incidents " in Beckford's narrative indicates

just how much control the travel writer can have over the external event

of travel .,and to w h a t degree the witness can ingratiate himself into the

scene as an actor. For example, Beckford's description of a rustic family

picturesquely grouped around their alpine abode i s heightened not by a con-

centrated evocation of their presence b u t of his own; "I was -so much

struck with the exotic appearance of this family, that, crossi-ng a rivulet, I

clambered up to their cottage ,' and begged some ref reshent . . . . I recl ined in

the midst of my smiling hosts, and spread my repast on the turf: never could

I be waited on w i t h more hospitable grace. "32 In the transaction, 'the / cottagers remain anonymous, no more t h a n acquiescent figures populating the

background of a tab1 eau featuring the feeding v;'s i tor . Their husbandry,

their costume, their physiognomy, the architecture of '.their domicile a l l go

unremarked.

In h i s narrative, Beckford appears as a notably reclusive traveller, -

--

natural wilderness always stimulates him to excursive fantasies: a dense

a l p i n e thicket can encourage him beyond time and place, as the "portal" of

some other region of existence, suggestive o? "some happy world, behind the

f

i

75

+

dark groves o f pines, the caves and awful mountains" (pp. 102-3). I n h i s

c i v i c s ightsee ing he i s equa l l y a s o l i t a r y f i gu re , making h i s pi lgr images . 1

t o p u b l i c monuments a t t w i l i g h t , when these places are deserted by the mob.

Then Beckford becomes a p r i v i l i g e d p r o p r i e t o r o f t h e i r prec inc ts . Even S t .

Pe te r ' s a t Rome i s appropr iated t o h i s des i re f o r gorgeous re t i rement as

he con t r i ves a fantasy o f a "1 i t t l e tabernacle under the dome," where he

-34 h o u f d "imnure" h imse l f w i t h s e l e c t in t imates, " f o r g e t the d i v i s i o n s o f time,

have a moon a t c o m n d , and *a t h e a t r i c a l sun t o r i s e and set , a t pleasure"

( p . 193).

The f i r s t twenty-s ix f e t t e r s o f Dreams are the ut terance o f an - enormously weal thy young man e x p l o i t i n g h i s s ightsee ing t o the most

exaggerated purposes o f r eck l ess se l f-aggrandi zement. The ken ty -seven th

1 e t t e r int roduces an a1 te r -vo ice which speaks j ud i c i ous l y and au thor i t a t i v e l y C' P

o f the h$a'n c m u n i t y . With informed del i berat ion, L e t t e r X X V I I considers

the p o l i t i c a l condi t ions o f Europe, the assumptions o f government, and

the e th i cs o f wealth and p w e r . Beckford concludes t h a t i t i s the "ambit ion a

o f p r inces" more than the f o l l i e s of the masses t h a t has d i s t o r t e d humane

r u l e i n t o anarchi ca1 oppression and rapaci ous tyranny. He p r a i ses

Switzer1,and f o r i t s sumptuary laws, f o r he has a l u c i d v i s i o n o f the i n t e r -

- ' dependence o f e th i cs and economy. The absence o f excessive weal th among the

Swiss i s a b less ing, f o r despotism i s thereby disarmed, and humanity, decency \

I

and e q u a l i t y prosper. f t a l y , on the other hand, i s degraded by the "voluptuous 7

s o f t n s s o f i t s climate," wttich encourages indolence, i n f i d e l i t y - and a - per- - i 4

2 climate t h a t sttccoured the author o f the e a r l i e r l e t t e r s w i t h poignant repose d

4

and d e l i c a t e sensation. This c m n t a t o r w i t h so s incere and i n s i g h t f u l an

intterest i n the p o l i t i c a l hea l th o f nat ions i s the same one who was disgusted i

by the col lec t iue carnival noise o f a market tam & s k W cwmwity /R

the pursui t of an aes the t ic cl i m x of his t a s t e for opulent seclusion and *

private re f lec t ion . This d ispar i ty between i so la t ion and co l l ec t iv i ty i s ,

i n another sense, the d ispar i ty between the subjective and objective modes

of travel writ ing. So marked i s t h i s d is t inc t ion in Dreams tha t the

imaginative, sentimental presentation of the journey i s s t ruc tu ra l ly s e t

who1 ly apart from the exgosi tory version. The greater the l a t i t u d e given

the imagina$ive journey within the documentary frame, the l e s s unified will

be the pub1 ished utterance.

As the travel vehicles of Sterne and Beckford become curiouser and

i curiouser and incorporate in to t h e i r design more and more of the i I idiosyncratic embellishments and amenities of the imagination, we rever t

' to the question Rasselas asked Imlac -- need one go a t a l l ? and to Imlac's

reply -- no, and yes. The prejudices, preconceptions, and foregone

conclusions with which the t o u r i s t embarks surely e x i s t before the journey

and must then be accessible to the insightful wr i te r , i f they a re his in t e re s t .

B u t without the journey they have no frame, no argument, no plot . Even

hhnson, whose mental d i e t cou lb be &el 1 supplied with conditional

pir>positions and abs t rac t ions , found in travel a b r i l l i a n t occasion f o r the

enactment of the contents of the hind. His own travel gave narrat ive

s t ruc ture to h is del iberat ions, as we1 1 as an empirical authori ty to his

vision o f the h m n comntmity. B u t with Beckford tha t s t ruc ture has

f rac tured . He s t i 11 uses the documentary p r e t e x of the genre t o authent icate

pl aces a re seemingly

the journey becomes

I

d

interchangeable; beckford, n o t Europe, i s the issue. As

l e s s and 1 ess apparently necessary tof t h e utterance,

76 a

form begins to break down. This i s s tructural ly evident in the very fac t

of the discontinui t y between Beckford's f i r s t twenty-si x l e t t e r s and the

f ina l , twenty-seventh l e t t e r . Figurative a n d l i t e r a l rea l i t i e s are formally

di s t i ngu i shed.

There i s an obvious reason for this break-down in documentary form:

by the end of the eighteenth century the celebrated s i t e s of the continent

had been so thoroughly viewed by earnest tourists t h a t they held few

mysteries for readers of t ravels . Only the unique perspicacity of the

observer could justify yet another reiteration of a predictable route. I t

became important that - this t raveller went, and that - he saw and responded i n

a worthwhile way. Narrative in teres t rested with the subject rather than the

object of the excursion.

This was not to be the case in the New World for another century.

Old World readers s t i l l needed to have North America explained to them, t o

unders b n d in w h a t ways i t was new, marvel-lous and remote. North h e r i c a

entered English l i t e ra tu re on just th is basis -- as an exotic place inviting

comprehensive notation. The dacuwntation of the New World was a 1i terary

event of large import, coinciding with the maturity of the appropriate

;li terary genre, travel narrative.

\ Notes

Chapter 1

During t h and t h a t e r pa r t of the nineteenth century e f i r s t par t

of the twentieth century, Mandevi I l e ' s authors hip was challenged by scholars

and eventually repudiated by Paul Harnelius, whose 1919-23 edi t ion of the

Travels confidently proclaimed Jean dl Outremeuse, a ~ i s ~ e notary, as the

author. Hamel i us ' opinion has in f l uenced the work of general comnentators

on medieval travel and travel wri ters and stands firm i n many standard

reference works. For example, Arthur Percival Newton fo1 lows s u i t in Travel

and Travkllers in the Middle Ages (1925; rp t . New York: Barnes and N O ~ T ; ,

1965) when he writes about the Travels: "we now know t h a t i t was a spurious /---

compilation of a c i t izen of ~ i s g e , one Jehan d'Outremuse, fathered upon * a f i c t i t i o u s English k n i m t ' S i r e Jehan de Mandevillet much as Swift invented

the imaginary Lernuel Gull iver to convey his s a t i r e s " ( p . i 6 0 ) . Mandeville

seems t o have been a victim of the same authenticating scholarship which

a t t he turn of the century stripped Jonathan Carver of h is c red ib i l i t y and

tarnished the reputation of his Travels throuqh the In ter ior Parts of ~ ~ k h

k r i c a (see Chapter 3 , below). In the meantime, however, both Mandeville

and Carver have been vindicated, k n d e v i l l e by Malcom Letts in h i s S i r John

Mandeville: The Man and his Book (London: Batchworth, 1949) and in his

edi t ion of - the Travels (London: Hakluyt Society, 1953) and by Josephine - - - - - - - -- - - - - - - - -- - - -

daters Sennett in The Rediscovery of S i r John b n d e v i l l e (New York: MLA,

7 9 3 ; r ~ t . 1971). As both Letts and Bennett admit, cer tain aspects of the

a u t h o r s h i p probl em are inaccessible t o m p i r i ca1 investigations and

approachable only through i n t e l l igent speculation and sens i t ive interpretat ion 77

of internal evidence. Bennett goes furthest towards restoring Mandeville ,to 4

his original dignity. She dismantles the case for Jean dlOutremeuse and 2

dismisses a1 1 evidence connecting Mandevi 1 l e with ~ i s g e . In e f fect , she

- allows us t o accept what Mandeville t e l l s about himself, that he was born

and bred a t S t . Albans, t h a t he passed thirty-four years away from home,

and #a t he wrote his Travels upon his return to England in 1356.

' Raymond Beazley, The Oawn of Modern Geography (1897;

Peter Smith, 1949), I , p. 1 1 .

' Mandevil l e t s Travels (London:

r p t . New Yo&:

Hakluyt Society, l953), p. 24.

subsequent references are t o t h i s edition, which presents the Egerton MS i n

mderni zed spell i ng .

On the basis o f convincing detail in the f i r s t section of the Travels,

Bennett suggests t h a t Mandevil le probably did travel through the Near East

and that he certainly must have gone somewhere. See The' Rediscovery of Si r

John Mandevil l e , Chapter 4.

The model for the Val ley Peri lous may have been terrain near Kabul, I

through which Odoric passed. See Malcolm Letts, S i r John hndevi l l e , p. 89.

Of Flandevil l e k s Travels - ~ r t h u r Percival Newton writes in Travel and

Travellers i n the Middle Ages: " I t may fa i r ly be claimed t o represent the

average ideas of cosmogony prevailing amng educated mn before the complete

recovery of Ptolemy's work" ( p . 12) and i t i s "of considerable in teres t

as showing that the geography of educated men a t the end of the fourteenth . i - 4

i

century was by no means so entirely fabulous as has some%imes been imagined" - -- - -- - -- - - 1

2

(p. 13). See the Travels, pp , 128-32, for Mandeville's cosmological 3 L

.$ discussion. 'B

' '1n The English Traveller and the Movement o f Ideas, 1660-1732, (1934; i 4

. { . rpt. Wew York: Octagon, 1968), R. W . Frantz describes the origins o f

4

modern t ravel methods in Deism, the New Science and t he philosophical patron-

age given to voyagers by t he Royal Society. These cul t u r a l trends c l a r i f i e d

the cognit ive a i m of t r a v e l , but most of the i nves t i ga t i ve hab i t s of e a r l y

eighteenth-century t rave l wr i t e r s a r e a t l e a s t i nc ip i en t i n Mandevil leis

methods : comparative s tudy of rites and re1 ig ions , observation of manners

a n d customs o f remote a e o ~ l e s , notat ion of natural products. - * Richard Hakluyt, Oilers Voyages touching the Discovery of America and

t

the is lands Adjacent ( ~ a k l 6 t Society; rpt. New 'fork: Frankl in ) , ?. 8.

' ''The Booke Made by the Right Worshipful Master Robert Thorne, i n the

yeere 1527," Divers Voyages, aD. 33-34.

" A Shorte and Briefe Narration, 1535-1536," Early English and French

Yoyages, Chiefly from Hakluyt, 1534-1608, ed. Henry S . Burrage (1906; rpt. '

New York: Barnes and Noble, 19591, D . 72 . This i s the t r ans l a t i on of the

"3r ie f ~ ' e c i t " as i t was ~ u b l i s h e d in Hakluyt's Principal 1 Navigations

(7600). A1 f subsequent references t o C a r t i e r ' s voyages a r e t o t h i s ed i t i on

of Burrage's co l l ec t i on .

"Account i f the P a r t i c u l a r i t i e s of the Irnployments of the Englishmen

Lef t i n Virginia, 1585-1586, by Master Ralph Lane," Early English and French

Yoya ges , p . 249.

"Briefe and True Relation of t h e Discoverie of t he North Par t of

Virginia , 7602, by John Brereton," Early English and French Voyages, p. 338.

Subs~quent references are t o this e d i t i o n . This account was o r ig ina l l y

rtubtisked .in 1602 as a twenty-four- mge book.

Franc Cs Fletcher, "3% World Ence~igass& by S+r-Ra~c k Drake,

[Cal i f o rn i a ) 1579," Early Enql ish and French Voyages, p . 156. Subseguent

references t o F l e t che r ' s account wi l l be t o t h i s s e l ec t i on i n Burrage's

co1 lec t ion . The World Encompassed was or iginal l y pub1 ished i n 1628.

Hakluyt used Francis P r e t t y ' s "The Famtts Voyage crf fir Franci-s.-make in to

the South Sea" in the 1600 edi t ion Principal1 Navigations.

l 4 John Sparke, "The Voyage made by M. John Hawkins Esquire, 1565," ~ a &

Enqlish and French Voyages, p. 119.

l 5 "The F i r s t Voyage Made to the Coasts of America, 1584, by Captain

Arthur, Ba r l owe, " Early Engl i sh and ~ r & c h Voyages, p. 234. Subsequent

references are b t h i s r ep r in t ,

l 6 I t was, however, omitted from the 1600 edi t ion , as was Mandevillels ,

Travel s . l 7 "The Relation of David Ingram," collected by Louis B . Wright i n

The Elizabethans' America: A Collection of Early Reports by Englishmen on

the N e w World (Cambridge: Harvard, 1965), p. 56 and p . 58. Subsequent

references a re to t h i s ed i t ion . 18 See Evelyn Page, American Genesis: Pre-Colonial Writing in the North

(Boston: Gambit, 19731, pp, 169-75. Page notes t h a t the f i r s t half of

Zeno's document i s a factual report of the fifteenth-century embassy of

Caterino Zeno to Persia and t h a t the presence of t h i s undoubtedly ref iable

account adds t o the a i r of au thent ic i ty surrounding the "Discouerie. " ,!

Bois Penrose, in Travel and Discovery in the Renaissance (Cambridge:

Harvard University Press, 1960), pp. 23-24, describes the po l i t i ca l s i g n i f i - 1. ?

cance of Caterino Zeno's important mission. Certainly the dignity of : i

i

Caterino's career as a t r a v e l l e r m u s t have encouraged Hakluyt i s his 4 - -

acceptance of Zeno's fan tas t ica l narrat ive o f his ancestors ' wanderings. +b

1

-- - - - - -

f - - It * Nicolo Zeno, "The ~ i s c o u e r i e o f the I l e s of Frisland, Iseland, !

Engroueland, Estoti land, Drogeo, and Icaria , I t Divers Voyages, p . 89. *

i i

i

20 "The FourthYOyage lade to ~ i r ~ i n i a in the Yere 1587, by Governor

John Hhite," Early h g 1 ish and French voyages", pp. 288-89.

2 7 James ~oswel 1 , Grand Tour: Gerrna.ny and ' ~ w i t ze r l and, 1764 (New York:

~ c ~ r a w - R i l l , 1953), p. 13. -Subsequent references a re to t h i s volume. 22

Bosweff, Journal o f a Tour to the,Hebrides (Oxford: Clarendon, 1964),

p . 10 Subsequent references a r e t o t h i s .edition. i k

23 Boswell ' S Life of Johnson (Oxford: lare rend on, 1934jZ, 11, p . 300. -\

Subsequent references t o the Life a r e to t h i s edition. I

24 Thomas fl.3 Curley's Samuel Johnson and the Age of Travel (Athens: Univ .

o f ~ e o r ~ i a Press, 1 9 7 6 ) makes, a very strong case fo r the importance o f

travel and travel l i t e r a t u r e i n Johnson's l i f e and a r t . However, Johnson's i

i n t e re s t in the idea of travel was not wholly posi t ive, for he understood

the meaning of the disorientat ion and i r revers i bl e i so la t ion which the r.

emigrant would feel once sep'arated from the order and sec&ity

o f English society. The unknown reaches of t h i s continent suggested only

savage emptiness t o h i m , and he expressed l i t t l e i n t e r e s t i n North America. 2 5 Johnson's suscep t ib i l i t y to the natural scene may have been underrated

because i t i s so e f f i c i en t ly absorbed by expository purposes. His

sys tma t i c . inqu i ry into existence in northern Bri ta in i s firmly based on

assumptions of geographical determinism, and an appreciation of the

influences of climate and the l ives o f men. In Samuel Johnson

and t h e Age of Travel Johnson's myopia interfered with i

h i s sightseeing: "k d w b t , nearsightedness hampered a fu l l appreciation

of natural beauty by cJ os in%-his f i e L d ~ f r i s i ~ n tos tc ik inc jde ta i - I s .i R

dis tan t prospects" [p. 98). 'i'

26 Samuel Johnson, A Journey t o t h e western I s l a n d s o f Sco t l and (New

Haven: Yale, 1971 ) ,,pp. 39-40. subsequent re fe rences a r e t o t h i s e d i t i o n . I/ L. . L I

Johnson, The H i s t o r y o f asse el as, P r ince o f A b i s s i n i a (Harmondsworth:

Penguin., 19761, p. 55.

28 L e t t e r t o B a r e t t i i n M i l an , quoted by Boswell i n t h e L i f e , -1, p. 365.

29 Joseph B a r e t t i , A Journey f rom London t o Genoa (1770; r p t . New York:

Praeger, 1970), I , p . v i i . Subsequent re fe rences aye t o t h i s e d i t i o n .

a - 30 Tobias Smol l e t t , ;ravels t h r ~ u g h France and I t a l y ( ~ o n t w e l l , Sussex:

Centaur, 1969), p. 60. Subsequent re fe rences a r e t o t h i s e d i t i o n .

3 1 Laurence Sterne, A Sent imenta l Journey through France and I t a l y

(Harrnondsworth : Penguin, l 9 6 7 ) , pp. 51-52. Subsequent re fe rences a r e t o t h i s

e d i t i o n .

32 Hi1 1 iam Beckford, Dreams, Waking ~ h o u ~ h t s and I n c i d e n t s (New Jersey:

Assoc. U n i v . Presses, 1971 ) , p. 100. Subsequent re fe rences a r e t o t h i s

e d i t i o n .

Chapter 2

" A Stranger and alone" i n Eighteenth-Century

America; Madam Knight, WiJliarn Byrd, S t . Jean

d e ~ r&ecoeur and Wi 11 iam Bartram

The round-trip from Europe to North America and back again was not the Y

only form of movement towards the New World. As ear ly as the s ixteenth

century, projects fo r sett lement mixed w i t h purposes of discovery, but i t

was not u n t i 1 the seve,lteenth century tha t any deeply-fe1 t sense of

permanence appeared i n the English-language l i t e r a t u r e of the New World. '

Discovery and sett lement were related b u t separate ideas , and t h e i r l i terary

expression came about in d i f f e ren t ways. For instance, d i f f e ren t and d i s t i n c t '

circumstances surrounded the composition and publication of two important

works of ear ly American l i t e r a t u r e : Mourt's Relation ( l622) , from the pen

of Wi 11 i am Bradford and others , and Bradford's History of Plymouth Plantation T

(composed between 1630 and 1647, b u t not pub1 ished unti 1 *l856). Mourt's

Relation i s -a contemporaneous dispatch from the Plymouth colonis ts to a. home I

audience -- the London publisher, Morton, playing so important a ro le as to

have his name e terna l ly associated w i t h the document. The Relation's

report o f the Pilgrims ' passage and a r r iva l and of t h e i r f i r s t seasons i n

the New Mri d was o f u r g e n t - in teres t t o B r i t i s h readem of kl-i-cam t r ave l s ,

need to maintain a comuni cat ive l i n k w i t h the homeland. The ist to^^ of

Plymouth Plantation is a d i f f e ren t matter. Bradford wrote i t del iberat ively,

over long years , and apparently f e l t no necessity of transmitting the

assembled information t o a London public. His' History begins the-work of " ,

consolidating the d a t a o f European ventures in America and presenting them

as the foundation of a truly American experience, rooted here, not abroad.

His chronicle was written for k r i c a n s , n o t Europeans.

Our concern here is n o t with the historian's labour and i t s results in

a book like the History of Plymouth Plantation, b u t with the traveller 's

work -- the pr im vista docmnted for a distant audience. The writings

.. of the four travellers I will discuss in this chapter -- Sarah Kemble Knight,

WiT7iam Byrd, S t . Jean de ~r$vecokur and Mil 1 iam Bartram -- al l pursue this

goal, b u t with such variety o f purpose and effect as to i l lustrate the

diversification of the travel genre as i t developed f rom the reports of

tbe f i r s t voyagers t o America. /

Madam Knight i s an e rly domestic tourist; her Boston i s as secure and I well-defined a point of departure as Samuel Johnson's London was. I n her

Journal, she writes i n the tradition o f ei ghteenth-century 1 i terary tourism, a

and her lyr ic descriptions of nature, her social sat i re and her civic

observations are as accomplished, in their small way, as those of British

wi rtecs describing European '1 ocatibns 1 ater in the century. The 1 i terary .

pri nci ples of Grand Tburi srn ,arri ved i n America vi rtually unaffected by the bp

a

passage.

Yilliam Byrd, with his report of the 1728 survey of the Virginia-

Carolina boundary, i s a secon'd-level discovemr, actin5 between the --

earl ies t phase o f d i i v F r y and the subsequent-phsciosettlement. He -- -- --

penetrates the unknown no t S ~ O much to describe i t as to imprint i t with the f

standards and devices of an Old World order. Carrying the survey chain into

the wilderness, he impresses and imposes, with the authorl ty of European

civilization a t his back. His documentation serves both the Tocal

interests of the s e t t l e r s and remote interests i n London.

St. Jean de ~rsvecoeur, an early figure in a long l ine of European Q

comnta tors on Ameri cay i s best known for his "What Is an American?", a

chapter from Letters from a n h r i c a n Farmer which celebrates the protean

character of the imigrartt . .This essay i s the p a r t of his writing which

+peals trtost direct ly to American readers, voicing a s i t does a vision o f . -- -

man ' s 1 imi t l ess capaciiy f fojdapta t ion .' B u t Crevecoeur Is intended

audience was European, and his celebration of adaptation and assimilation

i s only one moment i n the cycle of his American adventure. Crsvecoeur i s E

a t raveller w h o "goes native" for a time ("What Is an American?" i s a product L.

of this phase of his journey), b u t who *soon recovers his European

perspective -- and goes how. He does no t adapt, he i s not the American he 1

describes in his farmus chapter, and his reskstance t o the ~ss i rn i la t ive

coercions of the foreign comnunity in which he finds himself i s a,life-and-

d e a t h struggle , as he t e l l s i t . . * /

Yilliam Bartram, the Philadelphia natural is t , travel led through Georgia, P

the Floridas and the Carolinas between 1773 and 1778, a n d his writings /

heighten the descri pti ve methods of those voyage wri ters who travel led under

the auspices of the Royal Society. Like early ,visitors t o Pmerica, Bartram

sees w i t h a fresh eye, for the f i r s t time. B u t his a r t i s more refined t h a n

i th the resul t that his r a p t attention t o minute detail ends i n - -

alrmi t surreal i s u c retresentation o f n . His g l i t t e r ing descriptions o f - - - 7 t- pre - - - - -- - - -

natural wonders and the intensity ;'is perceptions appealed t o the

English Romantics (Coleridge in padticular was a devotee of Bartram's

Travels] a t the sam time as his dedication t o accuracy and ~&~rehensiveness

i

placed h i m i n the traditjon of an artful natural science -- a tradition

exemplified in ~ngland by Gilbert White and i n America by John Audubon. .

Like 'Audubon, Baitram fdund his most sgrious and respectful audience f i r s t

/' . in Europe.

In October 1704, Sarah Kemble Knight, citizen of Boston, began a . journey to N e w ttaven and Mew 'lo&, A few facts are known of h e r l i fe

and career: she was thirty-eight when she undertook her journey: she was

a widow, 'shopkeeper, Ather pf one daughter.* B u t by far the most -L@

substantial information wy have of .this colonist i s t o be found i n The Journal b of Madam Knight, which i s the narrative of her journey. This i n i t self

demonstrates an important aspect -of the .travel genre: Madam K n i g h t a t

home, among her neighbours and fellow-Bostonians, i s a nearly anonymous 1

figure, her sedentary existence almost undocumented, B u t Madam Knight abroad b ,

i s fully carmemorated in literature. Indeed, the amount of extant information/'

regarding this woman on her travels -- news of her anxieties, opinions,

digestion, conversation -- i s prodigious . Her Journal is a smbll volume, scarcely

i t i s an exemplary work from which emerges a

for the act of writing i s incorporated into- the action of the narrative: 5

part of each day's passage i s fhe traveller 's verbal recapi tulatton of - --,/P G

events, when, as Madam Knight puts i t , she retires to "enter my mind in my - -

?

of her embarkation i s sufficient justification for writing and adequate

notice of her intentions, Her opening sentence supplies an exordium

consistent with her purpose : "Monday, k t o b ' r.- ye second, 1704.- --About ' - - - - - - - - - - -

three o'clock afternoon, I begun my Journey from Boston to New-Haven; being

about two Hundred Mile" (p. 1 ) . $he dispenses w i t h the bu~iness of

ei - ,bepartwe and farewell for such mattey\lnvolve a level of experience 4

separate from the trave16eport. "Home, and ordinary I i fe are par t of a

sedentary world of social attachments, domestic economy, and, especially,

long-term relationships w i t h others, and n o t matter for an account of - - - - - - -- -

the broad world and the mind a t large. Travel., i s distinguished from ordinary i

1 i f e as a rare and special aspect of experience construed here in a literary

way and intested with a meanin re concise and exemplary than l i f e a t home, P O -

, where, meanings are diffuse, continuous and unarticulated. Even the motive for

depart@ -- here some unspecified financial chore -- i s t r ivial coinpaved to

the act of departure i t se l f . So, the widow embark with neither

preface nor ceremony: "About three o'clock my journey.. , . " . She sets out upon an exceptional phase o f experience bd inmdidtely

establ i shes the exclus,ive context of her narration.

Scarcely i s she under way when she comes up against th'e peculiar

difficult ies whtch face tk travel l er . Having l e f t home she has also 2 ?

relinquished secuii t)i, order and station. The wayside world is chaotic and

A. disorderly, and Fladam Knight '3 negotiations wi t h guides and hotel iers

a r e each small contests in'Nhich she m u s t assert herself emphdtically to

declare her consequence and rights before these foreigners who would a

degl t or abuse her. In securing her f i r s t 'nfghtts accoRtttodatio~ she &ts *K ,' r P

providfng the requested -anent t ies : b rA\

~ ~ - s t r e ~ m g v e r y K ' ' -- - uwly, and I d i d not t h i n k i t

m y ? duty to answer her unmannerly Questions , B u t to get ri dd of them, I told her f conre there to have the post's company with me to-morrow on my Journey, &c, Miss star 'd awhile, drew a chair, b i d rqe s i t t , And then r u n up s ta i r s and putts on two or three

' Rings, (or else I had not seen them before ,) and returning, s e t t herself just before me, showing the way to Redin, that I might see her Ornaments, perhaps t o gain-the more respect. B u t her Granamts new Rung sow, had i t appeared, would affected me as much (p. 4 ) .

The traveller i s particularly liable to this k ind of social insubordination, . - - - - - - - - - - - - -- - - -- -

-

finding her ordinary c1 aims t o status discredited or overlooked, Like

Smollett, the widow Knight discovers that going abroad leaves her

\rdnetaBte to jnsvl t f ~ m tier inferiers , and, rather than aquiesce i n t h e s e - ,

1 i t t l e tyrannies, she wtaf i a t e s , as -1 1 e t t does, w i t h vituperative

ridicule. She puts her hostess in her place, and thus makes a place f o r

herself in t h i s inhospitable outer world. In these situations, the composing

of the verbal account -- the nightly journalizing -- i s a compensatory

social action, for i t redresses the traveller 's grievances by a~pealing to

the stan

B u t

~ersonal

ards of the comnunity she has departed.

this defensive self-assertion i s only half of Madam Knight's travel

ty: a1 though fearless before the uncouth assaults of unruly

rustics, Madam Knight i s afraid of the dark. And we la ter find that she \ feels overwhelming anxieties a t the crossing o f waterways or the

traversal of precipitous fierrain. On the one hand, she is tough, sceptical

and cr i t ical : on the other, she i s yielding, exkitable.and tenderly

wtmrzrbie to suggestim and impression, From tb-e f i r s3 -fncl ination develops

constructions which a r e inspired by her nervous susceptibflity t o the natural

much m r e figurative and allusive, - As the sun sets and the travel 1er and

her guide ~ene t ra te the forest shades of a New"Eng1and night, Vadam Knight's

--'. descriptive mod i s aroused by her mental trepidation: \ t h

Now was the glorious Luminary, a his swift Coursers arrived a t his Stage, leaving podr me w the rest of this part of the lower world in darkness, with which wee were soon Surrounded. Tfie only Gl imnering we now had was from spangled 'Skies, Whose

- - IqmfecL R e i e c t i onsenderedewy_Oh$ect fonnidab3e,-Each - --

1 ifeless T r u n k , with i t s shatter'd Limbs, appearld an "Armed Enymie; and every l i t t l e stump like a Ravenous devourer. Nor Could I so mu as discern my Guide, when a t any distance, which added M? e terror (p. 6 ) .

6

As t h e forlorn traveller i s abandoned by her guide t o the monstrous, *

menacing darkness, she faces the most serious danger of journey-making -- the danger o f complete disorientation, of becoming irrevocably lost in

this strange, unintelf igible place. O u t of the cr is is of disorientation

comes a highly figurative diction which results eventually in poetry, When 1

the traveller does issue from the wood, she i s greeted by the "friendly

Appearance of the Kind Conductress of the night, Just then Advancing above

the Horisontall Line" (p . 7 ) . So profound i s her relief tha t she i s moved

t o expatiate imaginatively on the occasion :

The ~apfures wCh the Sight of t h a t f a i r Planett produced i n me, caus 'd me, for the Mment, to forgett my present wearyness and * past toi ls : and I n s ~ i r ' d me for most of the remaining way with very divirting tho' ts , some of which, with the other Occurances of the day, I resewed to note down when I should come t o my Stage. Vy tho'ts on the sight o f the moon were t o this purpose,,., b. 8)

El ghteen 1 ines of rhymed couplets fo72w.- So-viv+d and pertinent are the

3! -- "Fair Cynthia, a11 homage that I may/Unto a Creature, u n t o thee I pay,"

etc. R a t i s Interesting here i s &not so much the qua1 i ty of the verses,

which are a conventional rendering of the n i g h t % adventure, b u t their

context. Essentially, the plausibil i ty of the poem's position in the

narrative rests on the conceit of i t s extempore character, and the pretext

t h a t the verses are direct ly at tr ibutable to the travel event. The poem i s

made by the journey: i t i s a palpable l i terary product of a particular

occasion. Travel, we find, creates prose and, a t synoptic points, h e more

concise ex~ress ion of poetry. , A n d the inspiration o f the night 's route i s

n o t d e ~ l e t e d even by the eighteen iines addressed t o the moon. .. The ease of

the suggestible consci ou-snes s , creating from the encouragi ng tranqui 1 i ty of

the scene a n a1 ternate landscape of the mind, specifically; "the pleasent

delusion of a Sumpteous, c i t t y , f i 11 Id wth famousr Bui ldings and churches, W t h

their spiring steeples, balconies, Caf leries and I know .not w h a t : Grandeurs 1

wCh I had heard of , and wCh the stdries o f 'foreign countries hadigiven me the P

'Idea of'! ( p p . 8-9) . This kind of '.interior vision i s , too, the uff of poetry,',

4Y and Madam Knight cons01 i d a g h e r cogitation 4 n another pie e of verse -- - \

five lines on the architecture of the imagined me~rcyolis . All th is seems ' r

a rather naive and obvious notion of the c r e a t i v w q c e s j , tracing a! //

F' innocent movement from actual i ty through emotf on to expression. B u t there

are subtle qua1 i fications in Madam ~ n F r s t place,

there i s a conspicuous sh i f t in prose por t ra i t

o f the timid woman shuddering among stumps and limbs 'and phantom grotesqueries . I

C 0

t o the solemn language of the tr ibute to "Fair ynthia." conscious 1

d artfulness has intervened in the simple relat$.yship between experience and

0 '

expression. Second, the creative d doesntt stop there: a "pleasent F\ . J . .

suggestive condi tions of the unfamiliar 1 andscape a1 low the mind t o truly

go abroad, i n t o t e r r i tortes of fantasy where a kind of l i t e ra ry hearsay -- ..

the extempore device 1 egi t i mi zes the incorporation of "del usion" in the

factual report, i t i s on ly a device, .The tribute t o Cynthia, the poetic- ,.

rendering of the "Sumpteous Ci t ty , " and the fully-conceived idea of the

hapless wayfarer are imaginative responses t o the adventure as i t i s

recounted in repose. As an account of the travel l e r ' s response t o foreign

experience, travel narrative can accommodate fantastical expression without

jeopardi zi nq i t s documentary premise as 1 ong as i t makes these overt

s t-atements regarding inspiration, suggestive associations, and so on, 'here

i t does thus expose the manoeuvres of the imagination, narration i tself

becomes p a r t of narrative ac-tion. The reader i s l e t in on the book-making

in a way he is in few other literary forms.

Madam Knight's lucubrations are abruptly concluded when she arrives a t

the next hostel , and her narrative reverts to comonplace language more

appropriate t o the corporal business of travel -- food and rest , B u t the

descent t o such fundamentals does n o t reduce tlie vigour of the tale, I n

fact , these elementary considerations often prompt the travel writer's most

ski 1 fu1 performances. For Madam Knight, each station of the journey is an \ P

opportunity "fr keen social observation and sharp judgement', animated by

an earthy humour t h a t supplies some visceral details , A t an earl ier stage,'

, having called for a ma? ,%he i s confronted by a woman who

... bro ' t in a Twisted thinfike a cable, b u t somethlng'whiter; and laying i t on the ? ~ r d , tugglqhfor l i f e to'bring i t into a capaci ty to spread; w having w great pains accomplished, s hee serv'd i n a 4 s h of Perk and CabbageT I sueRose the remias o f Dinner. The s h y e was of a deep Purple, w I t h o t t was boiled in her dye Kettle: the bread was rnd i an , and every thlng on the Table Agreeable t o these. I , being hungry, g o t t a l i t t l e down: b u t my stomach was soon cloy Id, and what cabbage I swallowed serv' d me for a Cudd the whole day after (pp, 4-51. ,

C i

On h e r r e t u r n t r i p , r e g u r g i t a t i o n i s again a symptom o f Wadam Kn igh t ' s

d i s g u s t , t h i s t ime a t the i n h o s p i t a l i t y and personal nas t i ness o f a " s u r l y

o l d shee Creature, n o t worthy the name o f woman," and t h i s monster 's son,

Tbe i n s u l t e d t r a v e l l e r reoays t h e accomnodation thus: "They had n o t h i n g b u t

m i l k i n the house, wCh they B o i l d , and t o make i t b e t t e r sweetened w t h

molasses, which I n o t knowing o r t h i n k o f t t i l l i t was down and coming up

agen wCh i t d i d i n so o l e n t i f u l ? a manner t h a t my h o s t was soon p a i d double

f o r h i s p o r t i o n , and t h a t i n spec ia" (p. 321. These ins tances must remind

us o f S m o l l e t t ' s phys i ca l r e v u l s i o n a t the unwholesome c o n d i t i o n s and

unsavoury fa re he encountered i n European hos te l s . I n b o t h cases, the

t r a v e l f e r responds vehemently t o t h e d i s g u s t i n g p r a c t i c e s o f these fo re igners :

t h i s s o r t o f t h i n g doesn ' t go on a t home. And, i n bo th cases, t h e t r a v e l

w r i t e r knows t h a t h i s home audience w i l l be provoked and g r a t i f i e d by t h i s

news: provoked by these outrages a g a i n s t decency and g r a t i f i e d by t h e

i m p l i c i t r e c o g n i t i o n o f t h e s u p e r i o r way th ings are done a t home. Where

t h e t r a v e l l e r i s r e v o l t e d and d isgusted abroad, h i s own f e e l i n g s -- and h i s

audience's -- o f soc i a1 membership a t ' home a re enhanced, <

$0 f a r we have heard Madam Kn igh t ' s s o c i a l com.dy and h e r m i t a t i v e 8

'4 I

ruminat ions and fan tas ies . Yet another v e h i c l e c a r r i e s h e r y o a j u s t

conclus ion, and t h i s i s h e r sumnary pe rspec t i ve o f t h e s o c i e t i e s , s h e

.encounters. New Haven and New York are h e r p a r t i c u l a r concerns, and she

renders each o f these d e s t i n a t i o n s i n l u c i d expos i to ry prose s i m ~ l i f i e d

by general i z a t i o n and e labora ted by anecdote. I n h e r socio-pol i t i c a l

p o r t r a i t u r e she examines, i n more o r l e s s cursory fashion, manners, business

and government, The assumption u n d e r l y i n g h e r c i v i c p o r t r a i t s i s one o f

- o b j e c t i v i t y , b u t i t i s soon tu rned t o t h e s e r v i c e of personal preoccupations

and gossipy curiosity. New York, for instance, is introduced as "a

we1 1 compacted pl ace, s i tua ted on a Comnodi ous Ri ver wCh i s a fine harbour

for shipping" (p. 28). From this sensible overview Madam Knight descends t o

observations on architecture, then t o more specific considerations: "The

Bricks in some of the Houses are of divers Coullers and laid in Checkers,

being glazed look very agreeable" ( p , 291, She next penetrates the interiors

o f these facades a n d turns t o random details of the construction of

f i rep1 aces. They have, for example, "no Jambs (as ours have). A rapid

sh i f t t o eccentric minutiae -- jambs and hearthtiles -- swiftly draws

detached sbservation into the personal style and range of the inquisitive,

loquacious witness addressing an attentive audience on some exotic

particulars.

The descriptions of New Haven and New York emphasize what i s understood

in the rest of the account, namely, that Madam Knight i s writing from a

foreign location and t h a t her audience i s a t home and not before her, New

Haven i s a legitimate subject because i t i s different from Boston as, well

- as comparable t o i t . Madam Krti g h t discovers , for instance, t h a t a1 though

the polity of New Haven differs l i t t l e from t h a t of Boston, i t s members'

are "a l i t t l e too much Independant in, their principalls" (p. 181, New York - -

fireplaces are interesting because they have no jambsvand are unlike

Boston fireplaces. Comparisons inevitably arise: the traveller i s n ~ t a t

home; in w h a t place, then, i s she? When the traveller te l l s tales of foreign

p1 aces, her audience expects news of novel ty or simi l i tude, Selective

examples of each clarify the position of the traveller and her audience in

relation t o the rest of the world,

The information must be authentic, however, to be of value to the

1 isteners, and Madam Knight, 1 ike a l l ar t icula te t ravel lers , interpolates

example to substantiate her impressions . Some of her exemplary anecdotes

are part of her personal experience -- t o support her views on education she

t e l l s a good story about a p a i r of i l l i t e r a t e rust ics purchasing a b i t of

ribbon from a town merchant. Often, secondhand report confirms her own

immediate judgements: her sense of the unseemly indulgence of slaves y i

Connecticut farms i s verified by a resident 's ackount of a dispute betyeen I

owner and slave which was resolved by 'the judicial imposition of a fine on X

the master. B u t others s t i f 1 are not only secondhand b u t spatial ly

irrelevant. A t New Rochelle she hears stories about Britain, one of which

she repeats beciuse i t was "above the r e s t very ,pleasant to me" ( p , 271,

I t i s a gently comic l i t t l e t a le of honour generously exercised, and has

nothing whatever to-do with a journey from New Haven to New York except t h a t

i t touched the t rave l le r ' s sensibi l i ty and appealed t o her imagination,

Although the story refers to another time and place, i t nevertheless has

certain obscure documentary credentials because i t was something actually

heard -- or alleged t o have been heard -- by the widow d u r i n g the interval

abroad. We can begin to-see, in the admissibility of the t a le , the spatial

and temporal lat i tude 'of travel documentary, So manifest and apprehendable

i s the 1 inear basis of travel' narrative, for i t i s the journey i t s e l f , that

even repeated digression and excursus can be accommodated with 1 i t t l e risk b

to' coherence. In some 1 a t e r exampl es of the 'genre -- A Week on the Concord

and ~errimack, for example, ~ r - ~ l t e - J a c k e t -- digression alT b u t overwhelms +- ?

progression. B u t i t never actually ,dbes, for the t a le of a journey i s a /,.--. .

singularly recogn t zable sequence o f -filman experience and i t unifies the most

d i verse verbal material s .

Twenty-four years a f t e r Madam Knight made h e r way from Boston t o New

York and home again, W i l l i a m Byrd o f V i r g i n i a l e d a p a r t y o f surveyors i n t o

t h e w i lderness t o e s t a b l i s h the s t a t u t a r y boundary between the co lon ies o f

Nor th Caro l ina and V i r g i n i a . He wrote about h i s t r a v e l s i n a s t y l i s h and

engaging way, b u t what p a r t i c u l a r l y d i s t i ngu ishes h i s memoirs i s t h a t they

e x i s t i n two versions, The History o f t h e D i v i d i n g t i n e and The Secret '

H i s t o r y o f the L ine . I n t h e i r co-existence i s a statement o f t h e changeable

c o ~ t e x t s o f knowledge, t h e dominant i n f l u e n c e o f s t y l e i a making a document

o u t o f an event, and t h e w r i t e r ' s l i c e n s e t o arrange h i s documentary

m a t e r i a l a r t f u

l i f e , y e t w i t h

ph i l osoph ica l ,

comic, peqpl ed

ly . Each account t r e a t s p r e c i s e l y the same i n t e r v a l i n Byrd 's \

n e i t h e r redundancy nor r e p e t i ti veness. The k i s t o r y i s

s p e c u l a t i v e and d igress ive ; the Secre t H i s t o r y i s s a t i r i c and

w i t h f o o l s and fops, damsels and voyageurs. Only t ime and

p lace a r e constant ; meaning i s v a r i a b l e .

The boundary between V i r g i n i a and North Caro l i na had been long i n

d i spu te when Byrd and h i s f e l l o w cormnissioners, under r o y a l order, undertook

t o con f i rm the p a r t i t i o n . Time and rumour had obscured t h e p r e c i s e

i d e n t i t y o f landmarks o r i g i n a l l y determin ing t h e l a t i t u d e o f t h e border,

and by 1728 var ious compl ica t ions o f t a x a t i o n r i g h t s and se t t l emen t

d i spensations made t h e inexactness o f the boundary a c r u c i a l p o l i t i c a l issue.

Both the h i s t o r y and t h e Secre t H i s t o r y dramatize t h e boundary cont roversy f

' through the personal c o n f l i c t s among t h e c o m i s s i o n e r s , represen t ing , . -- -

r e s p e c t i v e l y V i r g i n i a and, Nor th Carol i na ; the po l i t i c a l and moral dimension

o f the journey i s exp la ined through 1 i v e l y c h a r a c t e r i z a t i o n o f t h e t r a v e l l e r s

and t h e i r v a r i o u s humours and tempers. Byrd ' s own h i s t o r i c a l r o l e as a

\t+r=giniart t k t ~ t e irrforms h i s reports uf the jownney- w f t R an overrTdTng

tendentiousness; both versions a re arguments structured by the documentary A - .

rhetor ic of travel narrat ive.

The History and the Secret History were each composed from rough notes

made by Byrd, and possibly by others , during the expedition. A1 though

the exact interval between event and composition i s undetermined, the Hi story

appears to have been wri ttert w i t h i n ten years of the survey. Byrd may have

considered i t s t i l l incomplete in i t s extant form - - i t w& not published

u n t i l 1841 -- and cer ta in ly the Peisurely, meditative mood of i t s l a s t

- sections argues i t s on-going character as i t expands a n d qua l i f ies each

action of the journey.4 The shor te r Secret History, on the other hand, i s

mope imnediate in tone and i t s point of view i s more-concise. We will look

a t i t f i r s t as the rendition more part icular ly and exclusively .engaged with

the event of the journey.

In the Secret History, Byrd's comic a b i l i t i e s f u l f i l l the promise of

a n t i - o f f i c i a l , i r reverent intention in the t i t l e . I t i s a po l i t i ca l s a t i r e

of manners and humours, an attack on pomposid, pretentiousness and misrule.

The generalizing rhetor ic of travel narrat ive i s here employed t o 'typify the

travel l e r s , for , a1 though the chai n-carr iers and instrument-bearers are

accorded the dignity of t h e i r real names, the leaders and 1 ieutenants of

both part ies are comnemorated by s a t i r i c ep i the ts : Byrd himself i s "Steddy," . .

the chaplain i s "Dr. Humdrum, " the Carol ina commissioners are several ly

"JumbTe," "Pl ausi hJe', " and "Puzzlecause;" a par t icu lar ly obsequious and

deferential Carol inan i s "Shoebrush. " From t h i s catalogue of human

a t t r ibu tes , Byrd determines the essent ial d i s t inc t ions among t rave l le rs , and,

by extension, among mn. On the-one hand, are the just and brave, on the

i'

other the self-serving and, w e a k . Understood #-w@mt bath t ~ c w ~ % ~ a + - e

the "danger and d i f f i cu l ty" attending the expedition, and the journey k

# a

becomes a t e s t of mind and sens ib i l i t y . Those who s tout ly face r i sks and

fuf f i 1 1 t he i r i t inerary triumph over those who miserably r e t r e a t before P

adventure. Byrd, of course, belonqs to the former group, and emerges as

robust and persevering, and as a governor of men. The completion of the

journey proves his a b i l i t y to comnand circumstance and to advance in the

face of even the most inhospitable conditions. 5

The d is t inc t ion between the hardy adventurers a n d the pusillanimous

followers i s not, however, pol i t i c a l ly absolute. One of Byrd's fe l low /

.L Virginians, nominated "Firebrand ," i s , the chief focus of his s z t i r i c enmity.

Firebrand i s impossibly vain, self-seeking, power-hungry, s ingular ly i l l - 1

prepared f o r man

worst crimes a re

and his insubord

arsenal of irony

ly endeavour, and, a l together , a poor t r ave l l e r . His

h is near-treasonous f ra te rn iza t ion with the Carol ina camp,

ination of Byrd's leadership. All Byrd's formidable

and r id icu le i s summoned to disarm and reduce Firebrand.

His every action indicates incompetence, peevishness, s t inginess and hect ic

vanity, and i s s e t against the temperate capabi l i ty of Byrd.

Byrd's acute preoccupation with this exasperating colleague predisposes

documentary materials, and the factual matrix of the narrat ive i s made to

serve s a t i r i c purposes. In l a t e r stages of the journey, when successful

hunting becomes an indispensable contribution t o the welfare of the group,

Firebrand's ineffectualness in the chase i s an object of Byrd's r idicule:

"By the way a very lean boar crossed us and several claimed the c red i t of

k i l l i ng i t , b u t a l l agreed jtwas. stone-dead before Firebrand f i r e d , y e t he

took the glory of the explo i t t o himself, so much vanity he had t h a t i t

broke o u t upon such pa l try occasions" (p, 102). The case o f the va in f o o l - - -

execut ing a dead animal i s an i n t e r e s t i n g one because i t i s . t reated again

i n the His tory , and the r e i t e r a t i o n reveals an a r t f u l d u p l i c i t y . I n the

H i s to r y i t i s a bear and n o t a "very lean boar" which i s brought down on \

September 30, 1728, and the van i t y o f t he hunter i s demonstrated genera l l y

r a t h e r than p a r t i c u l a r l y : ". . .the poor beast had many pursuers. Several

persons contended f o r the c red i t o f k i 11 i n g him" (p. 232). I n the Secret

H is to ry , Octobe\r 2 f inds Firebrand once more an eager predator: "By the way

Firebrand had another occasion t o show h i s prowess i n k i l l i n g a poor l i t t l e P

wi ldca t , which had been c r i p p l e d by two o r three before. Poor Puss was

unhappily making a medl on a f ox s q u i r r e l when these mis fo r tunes 'be fe l l he r "

( p . 103). The October 2 en t r y i n the H is to ry casts t he predat ion t h i s way:

"Some of our people sho t a g rea t w i ldca t , which was a t t h a t f a t a l moment

making a comfortable meal o f a fox s q u i r r e l , and an ambit ious sportsman o f

our company claimed t he m e r i t o f k i l l i n g t h i s monster a f t e r i t was dead"

( p . 234). The mate r ia l t i a t i s cons is tent i n bo th accounts i s t ire brand';

absurd self-aggrandizement. I n the H is to ry he i s un iden t i f i ed , b u t h i s v a n i t y L

i s nevertheless conspicuous and -1 udicrous. What i s important here i s the &

el as ti c i ty o f the documentary frame i n accomnodating 1 i te ra ry purpose : i n

the Secret H is to ry the wi f dcat i s reduced t o pa the t i c p ropor t ions i n order =

t o minimize Firebrand and make mock-heroics ou t o f h i s zeal. I n the H i s to r y . .

the w i l d c a t i s i n f l a t e d t o fearsome dimensions t o a l l ow Byrd oppor tun i ty fo r

a subsequent d iscourse on the awfu l f e roc i t y of t he species -- "much the

* f + e m t inhab i t an t of the woods, " an& no mere "poor-P s." Byrd i rrdulges F h i s love of the na tu ra l 1y marvel lous by no t i ng t h a t t h "whenever

i t i s disabled, . . s w i l l t ea r i t s own f lesh f o r

thTs i nc i den t a d iscurs ive resonance. Whether Firebrand a c t u a l l y aimed the - '" *

f a t a l sho t o r no t i s a circumstance adaptable t o the context . ~ h d n f h e + 5 '*

beast i s only a p u l i n g k i t t e n he i s allowed the honour; when i t i s a,ferot?ious -7

b ru te he i s denied i t . The r e p o r t o f the magnitude o f the c a t i s impor tant

t o the documentary m o d , b u t i s adjusted t o Byrd 's aes the t i c purposes -- '2 \ i n the Secret H is to ry s a t i r p diminshes the c rea tu ra and i n the H i s t r y

5 d+gressive re f lec t i veness enlarges i t. But i n both versions, the presence - <*.- . . of purpor ted ly fac tua l data - - date and l oca t i on o f the k i 11, and the

, , measurable s i ze o f the f e l l e d creature -- authent icates the n a r r a t i v e u n i t .

r

Both vers ions are composed A i t h i n the documntary mode and depend on the . . J

c r e d u l i t y o f t he reader f o r the-ir r h e t o r i c a l success. We begin t o see tbe

basis f o r Samuel Johnson's caut ions t o t o u r i s t s , warning o f the inherent

tendency t o exaggeration i n t r ave l r la r ra t ion. Once the l i t e r a l aspect i s

es tab l ished, through formal no ta t i on o f place, time, advance and distance, %@

the a r t i s t secures h i s -audience1 s credul i t y on a denotat ive 1 eve1 and

even the most f i g u r a t i v e departures p a r t i c i p a t e i n t f e documentary s ta tus o f

the -na r ra t i ve . I: The survey was undertaken i n two stages, i n the sp r i ng and f a l l of

1728. A f l u r r y of p o l i t i c k i n g occupied the commissioners i n the summer

recess, as they aimed vo l l eys o f accusation and grievance a t one another.

A1 though the H is t o r y 1 arge ly i gnores t h i s i n t e r - journey period, the Secret

,. H i s t o r y plunges e n t h u s i a s t i c a l l y i n t o the fray, de ta i 1 i n g the calumnies , A

perpet rd ted by Firebrand and h i s confederate, Orion. In s p i t e of the

ener-ge t i c malice ni th which F - i ~ ~ ~ a ~ pub1 +shes k s p e r f i Q i s t t s s ? a n W ,

- h i s case does n o t prosper. Byrd, on the o ther hand, i s exonerated of the

charge of high-handedness, and the exper t i se o f h i s l i eu tenan t i s v indicated. C

~ h e ~ m t i c ~ l o u s reiord of this contentious'interval i s pertinent t o the

~ e c r e t History ps i"t i s n o t t o the History, for i t ,verif ies Byrdts - sa t i r i c

vision of the antic buffoonery of Firebrand and his own sensible competence. . . *

I n e f fect , i t documents the moral meaning of the expedi tion.

Fifteen days a f te r the beginning of the fa l l trek, the Carolina -

comnissioners announce their intention of withdrawing from the campaign. ".#

- -- -

Eyr% re6yies in exultant horror, exhilarated by such a n instance of enfeebled

ouroose and irrespons ibi 1 i t y . So@ the History and the Secret History make C

<, - &

wrh of the desertion and bewlict.ion of duty , b u t the went has g rea t e r

%consequence i n the Secret ~ i i t o r y for Firebrand defects, and'ret ires w i t h tb 6 'F.

Carol ina party. A1 though Byrd' s wit never deserts him, Fi rebrand's premture

retreat resolves much of the comic tension in the narrative, and a n e w

masure of advance and success i s invoked. This is the carrying of the

chain i t s e l f , and *the excruciatingly gradual demarcation of a c iv i l boundary

through a natural wilderness. I n each day's entry i s a concrete image"f this 7 .

laborious task of mensuration: on October 11, "...we mde a s h i f t to run s ix

and a half miles i n the whole b u t encamped a f te r sunset;" on October 17 , .

" . . . the thick woods hindered our surveyors from carrying the 1 ine farther

t h a n 2 miles and 250 poles . . . : " on October 18, " . . . in a l l no.more t h a n 1 mile

300 poles." This daily numerical notation is a powerful expression of the

resistance of the l a n d to human purpose and i t i s legible evidence of the

stature of the travel'iers accomplished t h e journey. 6

Bymf of Mrp Secret Hi-stm-y e t m s trm a temperect d p r o v e r r a m t u r m - -

3yrd s f the History i s a hero, too, b u t o f a different sor t . Both versions

of the survey p m t e the ~ r i n c i p l e s o f v i r i l e mderation, sound leadership

a n d optinist ic perseverance, b u t in the History the active confl i c t between

Byrd and his adversaries is secondary to other themes. F i r s t , where in ,

the Secret History the survey was an adventure i t i s here a mission. Second,

Byrd's piety, which was incidental in the f i r s t account, becomes a prtmary'

consti tuent of meaning, and Providence i s invoked to explain the succ&s of

the devout travel 1 er. Associated with t h i s a t t i t u d e i s Byrd's vision' of the

judicious harmony which co-ordinates m a n ' s needs with natural supply.

Consistently evident i n the History i s the intercession of time between *

e>/ent a n d narrat ive. A1 though Byrd's mod i s s t i l l more ac t ive than pensive,

there i s in the History an accretion of ref lect ion around each incident;-

digression i s f a r more frequent than in the Secret History, and increases in 9

frequency as the narra t i ve advances. Experience subsequent to the journey

i t s e l f i s .- incorporated in to the meaning of the expedition and knowledge other

than f i rs thand i s admitted. Associative modes of thought carry Byrd to u n -

t ravel led distances as he ruminates and remembers. The journey pers i s t s in

imginat ion as an event of great consequence, and as a narrat ive frame which

will sustain the 1 i terary a c t i v i t y of the t rave l le r long a f t e r he has returned.

Byrd, i n his vision of the journey as a seminal, ordering occasion, ant ic ipates

Thoreau and h is endlessly reflexive journey on the Concord a n d Merrimack.

Byrd's sense of mission necessari 1y recreates an antagonism between

him and those who abandon the task, and he shows in th i s second account

the same contempt fo r those who do not share his inspirat ion and are

querut ous under his 1 eadership. His keen w i t s t i 11 accentuates his

observations on human vani t ies , b u t now i t i s muted by wider perspectives.

Altogether, th i s narrator i s m r e speculative B n d philosophical, l ess

eas i ly aroused by the weaknesses of his companions.

Nevertheless, t h e Carol ina commissioners must p l ay t h e i r p a r t i n

exempl i f y i n g Byrd's scheme o f values. Pa r t i cu l a r l y ; they are r e v i l e d f o r

t h e i r inappropr ia te p rov is ion ing f o r the journey, which Byrd i n t e r p r e t s

as an improper m i s t r u s t o f P rov iden t ia l supply. While the V i r g i n i a par@

advances the 1 ine, the Carol inans are impeded by the preposterously imnobi le

portables intended t o ensure t h e i r cpmfort :

We had no t the pleasure o f the company o f any 'of the Carol ina commissioners i n t h i s day's march except Mr . Moseley's, the r e s t t a r r y i n g behind t o w a i t the coming up o f t h e i r baggage ca r t , which they had now no t seen nor heard (though the wheels made a dismal no ise ) f o r several days past. Indeed, i t was a very d i f f i c u l t undertaking t o conduct a c a r t through such pathless and perplexed woods, and no wonder i f i t s motion was a 1 i t t l e p lanetary. We would have pa id them the compliment of wa i t i ng f o r them, cou ld we have done i t a t any o ther expense b u t t h a t of the pub l i c (pp. 228-29).

The 1 agging, over-1 aden baggage c a r t so f requen t l y i n t e r r u p t s forward 3

progress as t o become a n a r r a t i v e m o t i f represent ing the Carol i nan 's

temperamental unpreparedness f o r going abroad. Thei r insecur i ty requires t h a t I

they take w i t h them the appurtenances o f t h e i r sedentary l i f e -- tokens o f

s ta tus and p o s i t i o n t h a t are useless and meaningless i n t h i s a l i e n w i ! derness.

While Byrd and h i s associates press on i n t o the fo res t , the Carol inans l o i t e r

a t the camp, awai t ing t h e i r brandy and bedding. The V i rg in ians are

innocent o f such baggage, and proceed unimpeded.

While the Carol inans are defeated and turned back by d i f f i c u l t y , the

V i rg in ians are spurred on, inv igora ted by the s i m p l i c i t y of t h e i r d i e t and

the exercise of secur ing i t . As t ke expedi t ion penetrates t e r r i t o r i e s more

and more remote Prom c i v i 1 i z a t i o n , Byrd 's v i s i o n o f the economic autonomy

o f the group, and the exqu i s i t e balance between t h e i r needs and t h e i r

prov is ions develops: "Our men had the fo r tune t o k i l l a brace o f bears, a , --

f a t buck, and a w i l d turkey, a l l of which pa id them w i t h i n t e r e s t f o r

yesterday ' s abstinence . This constant and seasonable supply of our dai l y 7

wants made us r e f l e c t t h a n k f u l l y on the bounty of Providence" (p. 269). i

f r;

A1 though Byrd i s * l a r g e l y i n s e n s i t i v e t o the picturesque i n landscape, he - 3 :b

lrCi

i s nonetheless a t t e n t i v e t o the func t iona l i n t e r ven t i on of nature i n t heG -8 - -1 3

t r a v e l l e r ' s experience, and he depicts the na tu ra l scene as r i c h w i t h value .- +- 4

-7 - -

f o r i t s capaci ty t o s a t i s f y proper human needs and t o remind the t r a v e l l e r . 2 *4

-? o f the d i v i n e design. Where t h i s remote w i lderness becomes a hospi table, Y -

'2

r e l a t e d t o

physic ian,

understand

1 heartening place, the journey-makers a re assured of success. lp

i Byrd 's idea of immediate, l o c a l p rov is ion and innocent consumption i s - * a

4 .5 'i"

h i s philosophy o f body and hea l ih . He was something o f a l a y -T + -, t

and a t i r e l e s s t h e o r i s t o f h s o r d e r s and cures. His % t

i.

i n g of na tu ra l remedies i s a branch o f h i s v i s i o n o f the harmony

poss ib le between man and nature: " . . . in what p a r t o f the woods soever Be

anyth ing mischievous o r troublesome i s found, k i nd Providence i s sure t o

prov ide a remedy. And ' t i s probably one great reason why God was pleased , *

t o c reate these and many o ther vexatious animals, t h a t men should exercise % ,

t h e i r w i t s and jndust ry t o guard themselves aga inst them" (p. 293). The -Y-

d iscern ing t r ave l 1 e r can redress any inconvenience and d ispe l1 ,any obsfacl e t o

h i s progress; f a i l u r e t o acdomplish h i s des t ina t ion i s a f a i l u r e of 4

i n t e l l igence and w i l l . . a

- * As t h e n a r r a t i v e proceeds t o i t s f i n a l stages , the journey becomes a

veh ic le which reveals an inc reas ing ly comprehensive design of experience. -

L ' '

Byrd s t i l l maintains the p r a c t i c e of r e p e r t l n g date, dip ance anh prdvender, . , ~

' r \

and these 1 i t e r a l quant i t i e s s t i 11 supply the"essentla1 s t r u c t u r e of the 7 - -

na r ra t i ve . But he incorporates more and;mo&material t h a t i s f a r beyond -5

the rou te o f the"-expedi t i p n , a1 t b u g h always contiguous t o i t by v i r t u e o f - /

, J '

-

the associative pattern within which his kno~ledge of-nature coheres. i n his -

unhurg5 ed conclusion, Byrd exercises the travel writer ' s privilege of I .

digression more than a t any other point in either account. And, indeed, the

1 i terary journey i s expedi ted by his excursive mood, and covers'vas t Cs

terri tories: the Nile, Chile, the 'drctic, Italy are no t beyond t h e range of d

this traveller in colonial woods. After yecalling the "gbod sucwss" of

a treatment of a "running of the reins" in one- of, the surveyors, Byrd explains ...-- .a -

t h a t the medication administered -- a.distilJation from the sweet gum tree -- V

i s comparable t o ambergris. The simi 1 tude draws him on: "And now'that I

have mentioned ambergris, I hope i t Mil 1 notbe t h o u g h t an unprofitable d u

digression to give an account how i t i s produced, in order t o reconci-1e &a

various opinions concerning i t " ( p . 295). '~nherent in this departure,

which carries him t o consider the cordial effects of spermacettipas well ,

as the plenitude of whales about theahamas, i s a consciousness of the

associative process of composition, and of the imned ja te ' a~ t iv i t~ of - w

narration which proceeds from the past activity of the journey -- "now -

t h a t I have mentioned ambergris. . . . " Digression introduces to the action

another temporal plane, t h a t which incorporates the a r t i s t a t the business

of writing. -

Byrd travels not only beyond the survey experience b u t also beyond

his own actual experience into the area of t i t i l l a t ing hearsay and -

apocrypha gathered from his reading and education. Much of this secondary

experience i s post- journey. When a thunders tom passes over the camp, i t

is n o t t h a t storm which inspires comment, b u t another, which occurred

elsewhere and eight years after the survey: ". . .of a l l the effects of

1 ightning t h a t I ever heard of the most amazing happened in this cwntry in

the year i 7 3 6 " (p. 281 ) . While the basic na r ra t i ve ser ies i s s t r i c t l y

conf ined by the journey's t ime and place, the expa t i a t i ve superstructure i s

1 perpetual and i n f . i n i t e l y spac iws , "acornnodating an abundance o f associat ions, -2 +

s im i l i t udes , p a r a l l e l s and meanings. I t can conceivably compass every th ing If: 4."

w i t h i n the a v . t i s t t s moral and aes the t i c v i s ion .

Even i n these far- fetched e laborat ichs, though, Byrd pursues an i

in format ional and i n s t r u c t i v e purpose. And however much he mani p l a t e s h i s - -%

$ 4q

documentary mate r ia l t o promote h i s own s tou t v i r t u e and t o arouse the 4 esteem of h i s audience, he takes few l i b e r t i e s w i t h the spec i f i c context o f

h i s act ions. He funct ions w i t h i n a sympathetic p o l i t i c a l framework which -

recognizes h i s endeavours and author izes h i s leadership; h i s h i s t o r i e s

a f f i r m h i s confidence i n h i s s ta tus and corroborate h i s optimism. It i s i

q u i t e another case w i t h our nex t sub ject , S t . Jean de ~ r 6 v e c o e u r and h i s

Le t te rs from an American Farmer (1 782).

Unl i ke Byrd, c rhecoeu r had no permanent, sanctioned a f f i 1 i a t i g n w i t h

the soc5ety he described. He was a t r a v e l l e r who l i nge red i n America, and 7

then moved on. But the cur ious t h i n g about the Le t te rs i s t h a t the one cf*

f i c t i v e component which s i g n i f i c a n t l y qual i f i e s t h e i r documentary s ta tus

postu la tes f o r the na r ra to r a profound, na t i ve connection w i t h American - . soc ie ty : ~ r6vecoeu r assumes an indigenous perspective, and pretends t o . -r. z g be an Amr i can farmer. ~owev&, t he ' p l oy i s soon disarmed. The

/ - r h e t o r i c a l qual i t i e s of t r a v e l n a r r a t i v e supersede the P i c t i o n a l premise,

- , grgduallyr disengaging the na r ra to r from h i s m i l i e u u n t i l he stqnds i n a

r e l a t i o n t o i t t h a t i s equ iva lent t o Cr&ecoeur1s own as 8 fo re igner . Detach-

ment and f i n a l l y a1 teha t ion replace the connectSons estab l ished by the P

=

-

fictional premise of the indigenous speaker. k, .

~r&ecoeur was a we1 1 -born Frenchman of some English education, who

travelled widely in Canada and British North America before 1769 when he

set t led for ten years on an Orange County, New York, farm, In his creation t

of a narrator he reserves this broad experience and substitutes the point

of view of a man bonded to his American home and community by the deepest

t ies of permanence and inheritance. In this transmutation of his own a?

identity -- for l i f e on a colonial farm did form a portion of his own 3L

his tory -- he creates an i rreconci 1 able tension between '<edentary values -

I

and vagrant motives. The story told by the Letters i s f inally of the contest

between s tas is and mobility, as the farmer i s wrenched from the security

of his home and driven into the wilderness. For some l a t e r long-term

tourists in North America -- Frances Trol lope and Susanna Moodie, in

particular -- whose writing I will discuss, the same wrenching alienation

threatened when they found themselves immobilized in a place which even the

longest residence could never make anything b u t foreign. In Letters from

a n American Farmer, a1 ienation i s a n intensely dramatic outcbme, partly

because of the fictional premise of sedentary permanence with which the

le t t e r s begin, and partly because of the narrator 's moral adherence t o

some aspects of the culture from which he la te r becomes radjcally disengaged.

The issue of audience i s an important one in the Letters, and, the

narra t ~ r frequently refers t o the inappropriateness of his rus t ic rumi nations '

for a sophisticated European reader. His disclaimers are disingenuous, and

only a device through

documentary writing . he inestimably val uab

which ~r6vecoeur declares the validity of this kind o f

In the f t r s t place, knawledge'oi' the New Morld m u s t

l e t o t h e intel lectually curious, and any factual L

in format ion t ransmi t ted across the A t l a n t i c w i l l be en te r t a i n i ng and - 1

usefu l , and acceptable. I n the second place, the na r ra to r answers h i s

own anx ie t ies over organizat ion and s t y l e , by the a u t h e n t i c i t y

o f the impressions he records. I n assoc ia t ive

s t ruc tu re , d i scurs ive zeal and mi xed modes a r e expedients r a t h e r than

impediments, r e f l e c t i n g the d i v e r s i t y and complexi t y of r ea l experience. ,

The f i r s t " l e t t e r " dispatched by the farmer t r ea t s these problems o f

s t y l e , sub ject and audience, through a col loquy among the farmer, h i s wife

and a clergyman. A t f i r s t , the farmer i s r e l u c t a n t t o accept the i n v i t a t i o n 4 '

f rom an English correspondent t o record h i s impressions ; he humbly i n s i s t s

on h i s ignorance, h i s s l i g h t - education, and the i n s i g n i f i c a n c e o f " loca l I

and unadorned informat ion." The m i n i s t e r rebukes h i s par ishoner f o r h i s

humi 1 i t y , contending t h a t de ta i l ed expos i t i on of even the most commnplace

American pract ices w i l l be i n t e r e s G n g and in fo rmat i ve t o a fore ign reader,

and a lso t h a t the "ph i lan th rop ic ideas" i nsp i r ed by New World phenomena are

mora l ly super ior t o the "melancholy" induced by the " p u t r i d " atmosphere o f

decadent Europe. Further, the farmer possesses the na tu ra l g i f t s appropr iate

t o the task of documentation, namely, a "persp icu i ty , which q u a l i f i e s you

t o d i s t i ngu i sh i n t e r e s t i n g ob jects ; a warmth of imaginat ion which enables

you t o t h i nk w i t h quickness ; you o f t e n e x t r a c t useful r e f l ec t i ons from

objects which presented none t o my hear t . . . . H ~ The farrrkr i s near l y

convinced, b u t he must face one more ob ject ion, perhaps the most important,

t o h i s a r t i s t i c i n t en t i ons . I n tak ing up h i s pen he i r revocab ly d is t ingu ishes

h i m e i f from h i s un le t t e red neighbours, and h i s w i fe reminds hfm t h a t he

w i 11' thus betray a preva i 1 i n g e t h l c of re t icence ,- conforml ty , and un in ter rupted

physical indust ry . Had h i s father, she says, "spent h i s t ime i n sending

ep i s t l es t o and f r o , he never.would have l e f t thee t h i s goodly p lan ta t ion ,

free from debt" (p. 24). Literary activit ies threaten not only the family's

subsistence, b u t also i t s reputation in the comnunity: i f the farmer

persists in this unseemly project, warns the wife, " l e t 4 t be as great

a secret as i f i t was some heinous crime" (p. 24) . his fictional colloquy

explains the narrator's actual rhetorical position -- his relation to his , material and his relation t o his audience. His documentary aim of complete

exposition in i t se l f distinguishes him from the comunity which will be

his subject. The fictive farmer's anxiety on this matter reflects Cr6vecoeur1s

actual detachment from the society he describes,, and establishes the mode

of the composition: i t will address a foreign and n o t an indigenous audience.

A1 though the narrator presents himself as a typical rural citizen, we

also sense t h a t he i s an uncononly percept++-&inner, rambling abou t his -'-%

property, acutely aware of natural objects .-.: a virtual sightseer. His

contemplative capacities are large, and the simp1 est chores of 'husbandr;

inspire complicated ideas: ". . . n o t the least operation do I perform t h a t

i s n o t accompanied with the most pleasing observations "p. 40) . Everything

around him i s ripe with moral .initruction. From the system of. natural

predation, from the habits of songbirds, from the individual, attributes of s

his cows, he extracts "useful reflections" which remind him of man's duty;

The striking aspect of these meditations i s not so much their moral content,

b u t the fact t h a t value i s accessible through metifulous and accurate

,documentation. Exactitude becomes an ethic,

attentiveness a spedial piety. Cr&vecoeurls

him n o t on1 y the appreciation o f hi s Engf i s h

in the Fre'nch '~cademy of Science.

B

and aesthetic, in i tsel f; rapt

performance in this vein won '

readers, b u t as w d 1 a menibershi p

Cr6vecoeurt s interest in the natural envi ronmen t i s consis tent

throughout his writing , as . is his be1 ief in the natural education

available through an intell igent survey of nature. But i t i s his social

and political vision..that f inally dominates. The processes of human

settlement and human industry fascinate him -- as they do so many New World

6 observers -- and he dramatizes his philosophy of wholesome domestic

economy wi t h stories about di 1 igent, successful imigrants. To maintain I

the documentary assumption of firsthand experience, the farmer must abandon

his own fields and go abroad to authenticate his vision w i t h anecdotal \

\ 1 material : "Whenever I hear of any new settlement, I pay i t a v i s i t once

P-

o r twice a ye purpose t o observe the different steps each se t t l e r

takes, the gradual improvements .... Many a well meant s e m n have I preached

to some of them1' ( p p . 68-69 ) . 4

After describing the success of certain grateful and diligent immigrants

in his own d is t r ic t , the narrator moves ye% -further afield and begins to-

disengage himself from the identity of the indigenbus American farmer and,

simul taneously, from American society. In this central section of the book

- he tours here and there, and assumes the attitude of an experienced traveller.

He makes extensive comparisons, and fully a third of the le t ters are occupied - with an exhaus t i ve description of the economy and cul ture of Nantucket.

The maritime prosperity and civi 1 s tabi l i ty of Nantucket especially inspire

Crsvecoeur and he composes a minutely detailed protrait of manners and

business on the island. the Nantucket le t ters are followed by a cursory

report from Charleston, where Cr6vecoeur i s disgusted by the dissipation of

the inhabitants' and the corruption of the polity. His sensitive political

imagination i s amused by the corttrast between these two disparate soci'al

climates, a contrast which, he says, has "often afforded me subjects of the 1

most affl ict ing meditation" (p , 165);

The zpeaker i s clearly no longer an untravelled provincial. Yet

Cr~vecoeur's narrator persists with this ruse, describing himsel f as "having

never seen the beauties which Europe contains'' (p. 163). . Why should this

particular device of characterization be useful and functional ar t is t ical ly ,

concealing so perversely the real extent and quality of the writer 's (and

the speaker's) experience? What does such a metamorphosis mean? In some

measure i t must reflect cr&vecoeurls own experience of changing consciousness

in travel, and the inspi ration to re-make himself, refom and recreate

himself. In his "What Is an American?" le t te r , he describes such a re- p;

making in the kransformation ~f the traveller upon disembarkation in the

New World: "He - i s an American, who leaving behind him al l - his ancient

prejudices and manners, recieves new ones from the new mode of l i f e he has

. embraced.. . ." ( p . 49) . In leaving behind his own past and substituting 1

origins ref1 ecting the "new mode, ' I q Crhecoeur artistical'ly achieves the

reyision of identity t h a t is part of the New World experience. His imi,tation

' of the voice of the American i s part of his documentary: in a way, i t i s

no less =true t h a n the precision of his landscapes or the philosophical

content of his social criticism. B u t w h a t seems particularly important

t h a t this reconstruction fa i l s ; i t collapses under the tes t of residence.

i s not an imnigrant and i s only provisionally assimilated by his

new habi t a t . America remains a foreign place, and Cr6vecoeur remains a /-

travel ler . -=

Throughout, the narrator's appreciation of American 1 i fe derives much

af i t s impetus from direct or indtrect comparisons with g o ~ i t i c a l conditions

abroad. , Besides their obvious advantages, freedom and pros perf ty haye

meaning in the text because they are envisioned in contrast t o the servitude

<. 11 1

L

and poyerty from which the imnigrant escapes. The farmer-narrator enters

f ee l i ng l y i n t o the excitement o f the comparison: "1 wish I could be

acquainted w i t h t he f e e l i n g s and thoughts which must a g i t a t e the h e a r t and

present themselves t o the mind of an enl ightened Englishman, when he f i r s t

lands on t h i s con.tinentl' ( p . 45). O f course, ~ r6vecoeu r i s h imse l f f am i l i a r

enough w i t h the " feel ings and thoughts" ava i l ab le t o the European t r a v e l l e r

i n America, and the t r a v e l l e r ' s h e a r t - f e l t a g i t a t i o n i s the source o f the

n a r r a t i v e ' s energy. . So numerous and emot iona l ly cen t ra l a re the comparisons

o f the New World t o the Old t h a t the perspect ive o f the t r a v e l l e r disposes

the tenour of the whole book. -7

And the f i n a l gesture o f the nar ra t i ve , which i s onwards toward y e t

another ,scene and cu l tu re , perpetuates the a t t i tude of m o b i l i t y . The l a s t

l e t t e r opens w i t h a s t r i k i n g r e v i s i o n o f the sedentary i n c l i n a t i o n s so f a r B

expressed by the s a t i s f i e d and contemplat ive farmer: "I wish f o r a change

o f place; the hour i s come a t l a s t , t h a t I must f l y from my house and

abandon my farm!" (p= 203). C i v i l upheaval has transformed the c o h u n i t y

i n t o an a n t i -system o f t e r r o r , persecution, and disorder, and the "farmer

o f fee l ings" seems i t s chosen v ic t im. The w p r l d he so devout ly described

has disappeared and i n i t s p lace has r i s e n aaspectacle of rebe l

w i t h which he can f ee l ne i t he r i n t e l l e c t u a l nor soc ia l attachme

h i s pro1 i x and vehement m d i t a t i o n s on the con t ras t between freeholder and

s 1 ave , and between 1 i b e r t y andPpenecu ti on can

h i s own dest iny. "We must perish," he wr i tes ,

inc luded w i t h i n a r i n g o f f i r e " (p , 2181. H is

be seen as an i n t i m a t i o n of 3

"per ish l i k e w i l d beasts, a

.+

3 a1 iena t i o n from the comnuni ty 2

f

leads him t o p o l i t i c a l despair and s u i c i d a l lament: " l i f e appears t o be

a mere accident, and o f the wors t kind; we a re born t o be v i c t ims of

diseases and passions, o f mischances and death: b e t t e r n o t t o 5e than &

t o be- miserable. --Thus impiously I roam, I f l y f rom one e r r a t i c thought

t o another.. . ." (p. 214,).

But h i s a l i ena t i on i s n o t unansw&$ a new v i s i o n impinges on

h i s hys te r ia , gradual 1y rep lac i ng the i dea l of American J i fe.

He resolves t o depart the scene o f t r anspo r t h i s f am i l y t o

4 a remote Ind ian v i l l a g e and there resume h i s 1 e. This r e s o l u t i o n eases t

h i s anx ie ty and excitement, and as the na r ra t i ve concludes i t recovers

i t s detached c l a r i t y and considers the p r i n c i p a l cha rac te r i s t i c s of

abor ig ina l cu l t u re . A1 though suspicious o f the i ns i d i ous e f f e c t s o f a

hunt ing soc ie ty on i n d i v i d u a l character , the hopeful na r ra to r be1 ieves

t h a t such disadvantages can be avoided by enact ing a ca l cu la ted and on ly

p a r t i a l conformity t o the soc je ty he' has selected as a des t i na t i on -- he

w i l l be a s ightseer and sojourner there as he was in Orange County. And

as he wr i tes , he i s i nsp i r ed by the idea o f the journey and re l oca t i on as

n o t on ly an escape from tyranoy, b u t a lso as an oppor tun i ty t o renew h i s

r o l e as spectator : "There I s h a l l contemplate nature i n her most w i l d

and ample extent : I s h a l l c a r e f u l l y study a species of soc ie t y of which I

have a t present very imperfect ideas.. . ." (p. 233) . L i ke a t r u e t o u r i s t ,

the na r ra to r philosoph_ical l y disengages' himself f rom h i s imnediate l oca t i on

and though t fu l l y aspires t o h i s nex t des t ina t ion . He intends on l y a quasi- *

membership i n Ind ian socie@!+ i n s p i t e of i t s i n t e l l e c t u a l and aesthetl'c

appeal (he be1 ieves t h a t i '- y represent an improvement on the soc ie ty he

abandons, i n view of i t s unde f i l ed a f f i n i ty w i t h nature and I t s lack of - "5a

o f f i c ia1 superstructure) . S im i l a r l y , h& pr i&ersh ip i n co lon ia l soc ie ty can 3

be seen as q u a l i f i e d f i r s t by h i s s ta tus a r jud ic ious observer and r o p n g

e' spectator, and second by h i s c landest ine e p i s t o l a r y a c t i v i t y , con ealed as

if i t were "some heinous crime." The cr is is of alienation described in the

l a s t l e t t e r i s a dramatic climax t o the pose of c r i t ica l , analytic

detachment which is evident throughout the Letters and which necessarily

isolates the spectator from the community he describes. The essential

factor i n his isolation is his literacy, and the affi l iat ion which i s

finally the most permanent a n d functional i s t h a t with the European audience

he addresses.

Letters from an American Farmer represents only part of Cr$vecoeur8 s

l i teravy version of his North American sojourn: Sketches of Eighteenth

Century America, f i r s t pub1 ished i* 1925, contains material which was

suppressed either by Crhecoeur or by his English editor. The inferior ,

quality of many of these sketches no d o u b t recommended their deletion:

a number of them ramble inconsequentially from one topic to another and

their author frequently expresses his own anxiety over his inability t o

establish and submit to a coherent structure. The Letters are often

discursive, b u t always unified by some central issue -- domestic situations

in the early le t ters , journeys or excursions in most of the others.

i tudes

gl oomi er

A1 though some of the sketches are reiterations of the scenic a t t

expressed in the Letters, most present another America, this one

and much 1 ess attractive, exempl ified by anecdotes of individual

and oppression.

suffering

Even the principally documentary sketches ref1 ect a different mood.

There, the idyl 1 of the Letters i s exchanged for a more sceptical version

of the pastoral . The American se t t le r s t t t 1 1 i yes the "romance o f the

Crusoe, " b u t h is independence can breed some findesfrabl t r a i t s , and he

i s 1 i kely t o be unchari tab1 e , "1 i t i g i ous , " "over-beari n g , " and unscrupulous F \

L-n',..trade. These unpleasant attributes, so far removed from the grateful

- -

acquiescenca of the immigrants described i n the Letters, appear to dominate

the American popuTation as a contentious s p i r i t arouses the poli t ical

consciousness of the country. Even the character of rural 1 i f e i s altered 2

in this second col lection, a n d Crgvecoeur turns from reverent appreciation

of the pr.osperous sympathy between man and nature to an account of the t

several plagues of debt, c r o p infestation, drought and mosquitoes which

v i s i t the fanner: "I never should be done, were I to recount t o you the

rnmy inconveniences and sufferings t o which the people of these countries

a r k exposed."8 The happier reflections%f the Letters are not entirely

absent from the Sketches, but the stories Crkvecoeur t e l l s in th is second

vol ume are generally of unrelieved punishment, endless mi sfortune and un-

deserved persecution a t the hands o f political authority gone beserk.

Cr6vecoeur spent mp-e t h a n ten years as a resident of New York, a n d , as

much o f Letters from an American F a m r shows, he.jdentified philosophically

with many aspects of American cu1 ture. Yet his adaptation to the ways of

the Hw World was never complete. In his a r t , his ultimate repudiation of

h e r

we re

They

he1 d

can 1 i f e grew from his fear of being destroyed by i t ; his denunciations

the verbal enactment of his departure and return t o his point of origin,

concluded his journey and realized the detachment which had a l l along

him apart. In his long narrative exposition of the New World, Crhecoeur

effectively re-connects himself with a secure stat ion i n the Old World.

I n the penultimate l e t t e r of Letters from an American Farmer, t h e

narrator offers the report o f a Russian tour is t of his v i s i t to John Bartram,

the Philadelphia natural is t . The Russian i s certainly ~r6vecoeur himself,

i n yet another guise, and his reverent admi ration o f Bartram's achievements 4

.

115

ar a trawl ?er aft4 &ewer r e f l e c t s h i s own rnatives. "Few y e a r s , S i r ," he

respectfully tells h i s host, "will ertabfe any bedy t o &wwy wer a great

track of country; but i t requires a superior degree of knowledge to gather

harvests as we go" ( p , 190). Bartram's career, as Crsvecoeur recounts i t , i s I

a coda t o -the hts tory of the. f i c t i v e narrator himself, Summarizing the

practice of domestic decorum and good husbandry, and repeating the pattern

o f the urge t o travel t o unfamiliar regions growing out of thorough,

rr,eticulous observation of home fields. Even the wifely achanishment o f

unseemly aspirat ions i s repeated when Bartram remembers for h is v i s i t o r his C

helpmate's e'arly objections: " I was not opulent enough, she sa id , t o dedicate

much of my time, to s tudies and labours which might rob 'he of t h a t portion of

i t which i s the only wealth o f the h e r i c a n farmer" (p. 796). The idyl l so 4

abominably ransacked by the c l imax of the na r ra to r ' s agricul tural career

i s formally preserved with Bartram's story. Bartram iraintains his pastoral

2ermnence ~ ~ h i l e havina accom~l ished the extensive travel and learning his

imagination urged, and having acquired "a pret ty general knowledge of every

~ l a n t and t ree t o be found on our continent" ('p. 196).

I t i s in te res t ing tha t a oract is ing s c i e n t i s t l i k e John Bartram provided r

so a ~ t a model fo r Crgvecoeur . Bartram's 1 i t e r a ry ac t iv i ty was in every

way de~endent on and subordinate to his botanical and zoological investigations.

Fe 'wrote in reply t o the wealthy English patrons who sponsored his botanical , studies ; he answered thei r speci f i c inquir ies with specimens and careful

apse exposition, as well as trying to create as complete and exhaustive an

a c c o m t as possible of t he natural phenomena of the New World, Writing was, =

a necessary adjunct t o h is s c i e n t i f i c business, a par t o f the whole

3c t iv i ty o f t r ave l , observation and discovery. Yet in Bartram's fife-work,

a - 'qven ti ve, imaginative wri ter 1 i ke CrSvecoeur found an a t t r a c t i v e model.

A t the heart of the attraction i s the aesthetic of science, for sciehce in

this instance serves the imagination: i t has moral and spiritual rather t h a n

material val ue . Documentation and the attendant habits of curiosity and

verbal precision become creative modes, speaking for the desire to know fully

a n d represent veraciously. 5

John Bartram's pioneering inqui.ri es in the natural sciences were taken

up and furthered by his son William, and the intrinsic aesthetic in th:

father's studies was in the son Is overtly realized. Whereas 1 i terate

expres'sion and descri?tion were only instruments serving other ends in the

elder Bartram's work, they are in WiJliam's -- respected as goals in themselves.

In Wi 11 i am Bartram's Travels throuah North and South Carol i na . Georai a. East

and West Florida, &c. (1791 ) , the activities of the scient is t , the traveller

a n d the a r t i s t are inseparab % from one another.

Like his father, Wi 11 iam wrote principally for European patrons and the

audience they represented. B u t his father's austere, unembell i shed prose i s *

transmuted in the second generation: William's style i s much more in

accord with the expectations of readers of both scient'i f i c and 1 i terary

; expectations. Sentiment and impression become pa r t of the account, although

they always share their effect with a rigorous dedication t o exactitude.

Accompanying the change in style i s the introduction of the traveller-

'scientist himself into the account. His desire for perfect verisimilitude

and his enthus.iasm for completeness -is pa r t of the material of the narrative.

Mi 11 iam Bartram was trained as an observer by his father, and'educated

t o the purpose of continuing .and amp1 ifying the incipient family tr,adi tion C

~f botanical research. The effects of such a deliberate education are

obvious in his s ty l i s t ic maturity: John's naive (in the sense of untutored

and unaffected), l a c o n i c ~ d e s c r i p t i o n s are generously fleshed-out i n h i s son's

prose, and enriched w i t h a broad l i t e r a r y and s c i e n t i f i c vocabulary and a

far more complex pa t t e rn o f syn tac t i ca l s t ruc tu re . I n s p i t e o f these ~

vocat ional preparations, John seems t o have encouraged W i 11 iam i n o ther

enterpr ises, a t which the l a t t e r was unsuccessful ,' before he acknowledged

h i s son's dest iny as w r i t e r and n a t u r a l i s t .

The younger Bartram's prose achieves a desc r i p t i ve p rec is i on unavai lable -

t o -- and genera l ly unsought by, -- the w r i t e r o f on ly 1 i te ra ry purpose.

For a l l the education and ref inement o f h i s perceptions, h i s essen t ia l

motive remains t h a t o f h i s f a the r : t o r e p o r t d e f i n i t i v e l y on the novel

countenance o f nature i n the New World. With t h i s s c i e n t i f i c ob jec t i ve i n

hand, Bartram i s never reduced t o the conventional expostu la t ions o f 4--

uninformed admirers o f nature. He can account, minute ly and s p e c i f i c a l l y , '

f o r the sensations o f awe which t y p i c a l l y v i s i t the s e n s i t i v e t o u r i s t i n

s i t u a t i o n s o f na tu ra l s ~ e c t a c l e . 8 While he i s always suscept ib le t o the

rap tu re induced by magni f icent views, h i s s c i e n t i f i c consciousness never

capi t u l ates t o received vers ions of exc i tement a t na tu ra l prospects. If a >7

he i s s t ruck by a sense o f the sublime, he inqu i res i n t o the components o f

such grandeur. H is reverent v i s i t t o the banks o f the M iss iss ipp i provides

an example o f h i s technique.

A t evening a r r i v e d a t Manchac, when I di rec ted my steps t o the banks o f the M iss iss ipp i , where I stood fo r a t ime as i t wereA fasc inated by the magnificence of the great s i r e of r i v e r s .

The depth ~f the r i v e r here, even i n t h i s season, at ' i ts lowest ebb i s astonishing. It i s n o t less than f o r t y fathom3 and the wid th about a m i l e o r somewhat Tess, bu t i t i s n o t expansion

-

o f surface alone t h a t s t r i k e s us w i t h ideas of magnificence. The a1 ti tude and t h e a t r i c a l ascents of i t s pens i le banks, the steady course of the mighty flood, the trees, h igh forests, even every p a r t i c u l a r ob ject , as we l l as soc ie t ies , bear the stamp o f s u p e r i o r i t y and excellence; a l l u n i t e o r combine i n e x h i b i t i n g - a prospect o f the grand sub1 ime (p. 763).

He completes the episode with specific measurements of the precipices, I

explanation of alluvial currents, and a sketch of the comqrcial warehouses

adjacent 'to the river. HiLdescription i s not wanting in feeling or sentiment

-- he stands transfixed, "fasciriated" by this natural magnificence -- b u t

neither i s i t dependent on sentiment for i t s success. His scientific

attitude actually intensifies his a r t by particularizing his experience:

mensuration'and explanation fix his inner impressions and connect them with - a legible reality.

Even the appearance of panoramic views does not d a u n t Bartram's sense

of detail and specificity. Although vistas often inspire i n l i terary

tourists imprecise reflections and diffuse amazement, in Bartram's

memoirs they are treated with the same particularity t h a t exactly renders

the foliation of a minute vegetable or the gesture of a bird.

... turning abou t , LIJ found t h a t I was now in a very elevated situation, from whence I en joyed a view inexpressibly magnificent -and com~rehensive. The mountainous wilderness which I had lately traversed, down. t o the region of Augusta, appearing regularly undulated as the great ocean after a tempest; the undulations gradual ly degress ing, yet perfectly regular, as the' squamae of a fish or imbrications of t i l e on %roof. The nearest ground t o me of a perfect full green, next more glaucous, and lastly almost blue as the ether with which the most distant curve of the horizon seemed blended ( p p . 136-37).

The reported spectacle combines the idea of the "inexpressibly magnificent" 1

wi t h the desi re for exact expressibil i ty and definition. Always Bartram's . rnostvel iable devices for organizing!-and commqnicating a scenic impression .

are simil i tude and icldefatigable observation of col'our. Here the ipens i ty

is contained and clarified by similes relating i t f i r s t t o the sea, then

t o the scales of fish and the texture of a roof. The succession of figures

is patterned and controlled by association: from the sea to fish to the

scaly appearance o f t i l e s . And t h g effect of distance -1 whlch might

. - . ' is-

a % - ' .C .

-%

stupefy e q u a l l y a p p r e c i a t i v e b u t l e s s p rec i se observers -- is; fu r thgr \ .

2. D .

ordered and exp la ined through an account o f t he scene's chromat ic c h a M c t u : iq .- -

t h e very atmosphere of expanse i s a t t r i b u t a b l e t o a d i s c e r n i b l e spectrrim: -

Bar tmm's p o r t r a i t s o f p l a n t s and creatures a re even more d e t a i l e d . x

I n t h e b e s t o f these p o r t r a i t s , t h e r e i s passionate absorp t i on i n scene t h a t

achieves an e x t r a o r d i n a r y d e s c r i p t i v e concen t ra t i on and i n t e q i ty. " \ / h i t

most b e a u t i f u l c r e a t u r e i s t h i s f i s h before me: g l i d i n g t o and f r o and

f i g u r i n g i n t h e s t i l l , c l e a r waters, w i t h h i s o r i e n t a t tendants and associates," @

Bartram exclaims when he meets the y e l l o w bream (p. 2623 : U n t i l t h e -.. 4 *

C ; d- subsequent p o r t r a i t i s f u l l y composed, t h e l i t t l e f i s h complete ly ab3sybs

Bart ram's consciousness and h i s a t t e n t i o n never dev ia tes f rom i t s o b j e y '

1 except t o secure and app ly an exac t a d j e c t i v e .or s i m i l e . The f i s h i s o f . - - . " -

a pa le g o l d ( o r burnished b rass ) " : i t s v a r i e g a t i o n "so l a i d on as t o

appear l i k e r e a l dust," the f i n s ornamented w i t h b lue, s i l v e r and b lack

arranged " l i k e t h e eye i n t h e fea the rs o f a peacock's t r a i n " (p. 263). " ,

Bartram's o b l i g a t i o n t o h i s s c i e n t i f i c i n t e n t i o n i s d i i cha rged by t h e . %

comprehensiveness o f h i s r e p o r t '-- - g i l l s , scales, f i n s , mouth, dimension a re . -

a l l r e g i s t e r e d -- b u t the completeness o f t he p o r t r a i t i s accomplished by - .

a f i g u r a t i v e sumnation o f what he has seen: "He i s a f i s m f prod ig ious

s t r e n g t h and a c t i v i t y i n the water , a- w a r r i o r i n a g i l d e d c o a t o f mail..,." < L

' . (p. 263).

-< , An unwaveri ng d e s c r i p t i v e . app rec ia t i on of nature, however c o n s i s t e n t

-- =, - - *

and emphatic, i s c l e a r l y - n o t s u f f i c i e n t t o es tab l i s h n a r r a t i v e coherence;

r a t h e r , i t w i l l tend to - a r r e s t a c t i o n and d i v e r t sequence, C e r t a i n l y Travels

through Nor th and South Caro l ina has more d e s c r i p t i v e than n a r r a t i v e

energy, b u t Bartrarn has never the less a g i f t f o r reproduc ing i n prose t h e a c t i o n : -

o f - t r a v e l . ,When he ascends the sumni t descr ibed i n the panoramic passage

quoted above, he i s on a a ' t lone jone p i 1 grimage," t r a v e l 1 i n g by h imse l f

-.through the Nor th Carol i n a w i lderness . Scene opens onto scene, each view 6 . 5 %,

d i v u l g i i g tk ne4t, as he negot ia tes 'a w i l d t e r r a i n : "Towering mountains

seem c o n t i n u a l l y i n mo t ion as I pass along, pompously r a i s j n g t h e i r super

c res ts towards t h e l o f t y sk ies , t rav&sing the f a r d i s t a n t hor izon. . . .The

a a ' m u n t a i n s recede, the v a l e expands" (D.

B " i n t e n s i f i e s the e f f e c t o f topographical

motion t o t h e landscape, a c t h a t i n g i t s w

i r r egu la r - i n t e r v a l s t h e p r e 9 m t tense.

s t r u c t u r i i i g a c o n t e n p l 8 t i v e episode ( W h a t a most b e a u t i f u l c rea tu re i s t h i s

146 ). Bartram expresses and

d i v e r s i t y by t r a n s f e r r i n g h i s own

mass, and by i n t r o d u c i n g a t

he pws-ent tense i s e f f e c t i v e i n

* - f i s h be fo re me!") and thus merging the perceptual and verba l processes, b u t

Q P *

i t i s a l s o a 'useful dev ice i n mki'iig a coherent event o u t o f a se r ies o f - a

impression?, and;d?amatii ng t h e p9rti c i p a t i o n o f t h e t r a v e l l e r -obse rve r <i - . ,

, i n t h e scene.' --

The f u r i o u s storm sweeps -a long, smoking through the%le and oyer t h e reS6hnding h i l l s . The face o f t h e e a r t h i s obscured h

by the deluge deccending f rom t h e firmament, and I am deafened by the d i n o f the thunder. The tempestuous scene damps my s p i r i t s , and my horse s inks under me a t t h e tremendous peals, as I has ten --

a ' f o r the p l a i n (p. 144)\. 9

As t h e s t & abates, so does Bart ram's prose subside t o t h q p a s t tense, b u t -9

3 3

the sensat ion of d i s t r e s s has been &corded as p a r t o f t he account o f t he <

journey and the,*storm., something t h a t i s evident ' here and throughout t h e f

. < m - 7

,. ~ r a t e l s i s t h e % h ~ ' q s i \ r e i a v o l L vement o f t he t r a v e l 1 e r ' s consciousness w i t h , -

- - + %

the scene thrbugh whic he basses. H-is fee l ings , fears and pleasures a r e 4% b

. --4 \

d i r e c t l y r e f e r r e d \. t o the p e r c e p t i b l e charac ter of t h e gnvironment. He i s - , r

defined, f o r the. - moment, i n t h e l i g h t of h i s response t o t h i s n a t u r a l .event. 1

k. As t h e scene a1 t e r s , so changes h is ' own mood and d i s p o s i t i o n . Thus t h e * t

reco rd of pissage .is, a p s ) l ~ h o l o g i c a l r e g i s t e r of t h e a c t i v i t y o f t h e mjnd, . %. -.

and an accoun tab1 e h i s t o r y of the w r i t e r ' s sens i b i 1 i t y . Bartram ' s

dramatizat i0.n o f the f u r y and c o ~ f u s i o n o f t h e storm through n o t a t i o n o f

h i s own nervous d e j e c t i o n i s n o t a merely sent imental d ig ress ion d e f l e c t i n g

documentary energy from t h e l e g i t i m a t e o b j e c t o f i n q u i r y ; r a t h e r , i t

c o n t r i b u t e s t o t h e whole purpose o f v e r i s i m i l i tude and accuracy, and represents

f u l l y t h e whole s t r u c t u r e of percept ion . A s e n t i e n t p r e c i s i o n i n prose

eventual l y in t roduces s u b j e c t i v i t y , and the e n t i r e v i s i o n of t h e event

inc ludes t h e d i s p i r i t e d wayfarer has ten ing t o sa fe ty . ' .

On t h i s stage o f t h e journey, Bartram i s alone, the s o l e human

c o n s t i t u e n t i n a v a s t panorama. H is i s o l a t i o n throughout t h e Travels both

arouses h i s s e l f -co~sc iousnes s and emphasi zes the importance o f h i s perceptual '-

con tac t w i t h a n a t u r a l v i c i n i t y , f o r h i s ex is tence i s w h o l l y determined by

h i s r e l a t i o n t o t h a t contex t . Even when, a t o the r i n t e r v a l s o f h i s f i v e - y e a r

journey, he has t h e cohpany o f o t h e r t r a v e l l e r s , he cont inues a s o l i t a r y

f i g u r e aga ins t t h e landscape, s o c i a l l y d i s t i n g u i s h e d from h i s occasional

companions by h i s p e r s o n a l i t y and the p e c u l i a r mode o f t r a v e l which complements

i t . When he crosses h o s t i l e I n d i a n t e r r i t o r y he re1 u c t a n t l y en1 i s t s , f o r

h i s own sa fe ty , as a member o f a pack - t ra in . The c l a m u p and d i s o r d e r and

v e l o c i t y o f t h e caravan a r e pro found ly a n t i p a t h e t i c t o h i s own h a b i t s

and i n c l i n a t i o n s . The p a r t y ' s p r a c t i c e o f decamping i n t h e hea t of the

day and o f i n c i t i n g t h e horses t o a c o n t i n u a l t r o t th reatens t o overcome

Bart ram's way-weary horse -- h i s " o l d se rvan t " -- and t h e perpetua l no i se o f

such a "mad manner" o f t r a v e l unnerves and harasses Bart ram himsel f . "The

constant r i n g i n g of t h e horses ' b e l l s , smacking of t he whips, whooping

and too- f requent c u r s i n g these miserabl e quadrupeds cause an incessant up-

r o a r and confusion, i n e x o r e s s i b l y d isagreeable" (p. 183). Only t h e c r u c i a l

danger of s o l i t a r y t r a v e l i n t h i s reg ion encourages h im t o keep up w i t h the-,, --.

raucous gang and endure the vexat ion o f i t s s o c i e t y . .)

General ly , s o l i t u d e induces i n Bartram a v i g i l a n t consciousness of h i s

s i t u a t i o n . Having camped one n igh t , by h imse l f , he prepares and consumes

h i s meal o f t r o u t , oranges and r i c e , enjoys the spec tac le of t he evening O

sky, then f a l l s a b r u p t l y asleep.

A t m idn igh t I awake; when, r a i s i n g my head e r e c t , I f i n d myse l f a lone i n t h e w i lderness o f F l o r i d a , on the shores o f Lake George. Alone indeed, b u t under * the care o f the Almighty, and p r o t e c t e d b y t h e i n v i s i b l e hand o f my guardian angel.

When q u i t e awake, I s t a r t a t the heavy t read of some animal; t he d r y l imbs o f t rees upon the ground crack under h i s f e e t ; t he c lose, shrubby t h i c k e t s p a r t and bend under him as he rushes of f (OP. 196-97).

This s o r t o f a l e r t conf idence, penet ra ted by occasional shaf ts of anx ie ty ,

i s c h a r a c t e r i s t i c o f Bart ram's temperament i n s i t u a t i o n s o f n e a r l y incon-

ce i vab le s o l i t u d e . And undoubtedly h i s i s o l a t i o n c o n t r i b u t e s t o h i s

percepience -- h i s awareness o f h i s whereabouts ( "a lone i n t h e wi lderness

of F lo r i -da" ) and h i s t renchan t s e n s i t i v i t y t o the r ig& and s i g n a l s about

h im ( " t h e c lose, shrubby t h i c k e t s p a r t and bend"). His wor ld i s comprised

o n l y of h i m s e l f and the n a t u r a l c r e a t i o n which envelops him, o n l y of h i s

own consciousness and t h e m i l i e u which i t appropr ia tes . His prose e;

represents v a r i o u s l y t h e ways o f t h e a1 1- importah t i n t e l l e c t i

l o c a t i o n . Long, fulsome paragraphs o f d e s c r i p t i o n employing b o t a n i c a l and

l i t e r a r y d i c t i o n compose scene and c r e a t e a comprehensive contex t , w h i l e

compact, one-sentence paragraphs drama t i ze the moments o f c r u c i a1

pe rcep t ion :

I r e k i n d l e my sleepy f i r e ; l a y i n con tac t t he e x f o l i a t e d s m k i ng brands, damp w i t h ' t he dew o f heaven.

The b r i g h t flame ascends and i 1 luminates t h e ground and groves around me (p, 197) .

Again the present tense animates the sudden foccussing of perception and

exposition a t a moment of heightened connection between sight and seer.

Bartram's journey i s n o t one t h a t can be happily conducted in the

company of other men. His task requires a delicate type of commerce

between himself and his environment, subtle transactions likely t o be

corrupted by the incidence of other minds and other attitudes. Hunting,

which i s carried on casually by his periodic companions, i s an issue - which particularly alienates him from his fellows and f i l l s him with

revulsion and dismay. Unlike William Byrd, for whom the success of the

chase indicated the ami t y betweqn venturi ng man and provi denti a1 nature,

William Bartram sees venery as a hideous interruption of the accord between Y

human and natural culture. ~ravecoeur suspected that hunting was a morally

corrupt practice, b u t his reservations were more social and ethical t h a n

Bartram's, which are objections of- sentiment a n d aesthetics. In a >

characteristic incident, members of Bartram's party come upon a herd of

deer, and resolve to give chase. I n Bartram's description of the herd

before the predatory intrusion, the animals disport them'selves in a - s i tuation of innocent repose and fro1 ic: ". . .we beheld them, thoughtless

\

and secure, flouncing in a sparkling pond in a green meadow or cove beyond .

the point. Some were lying down on their sides in the cool waters, whilst

others were prancing 1 i ke young kids , the young bucks in pl aysome sport ,< .

with their sharp horns hooking a n d spurring the others, urging them to

splash the water" (p . 191). Bartram tries t o intercede on behaif of the

fated creatures: "I endeavoured t o plead for their lives, b u t my old '.

friend, though he was a sensible, rational and good sor t of man, would

n o t yield to my phi1 osophy" ( p p . "191-92). ' In effect, his attempted

intercession is i n the interests of preserving t'he apprehended order and

beauty of the beheld scene. When the patriarch of the herd, a "princely

buck," i s brought down, the scene i s destroyed, and the exquisite arrangement

lost in a chaos of terror and flight: "His affrighted followers a t the

instant sprang off in every direction, 's treaming away 1 i ke meteors o r

phantoms, and we quickly lost sight of them" ( p . 192). In place of the

sight of an animated a n d pristine scene, the travellers are l e f t with the

relics of their vandalism, the carcass and entrails of the buck, and the

"vultures and crows who follow the hunter as regularly as his own shade. " \

The economic relationship between the travel1 er-ar t is t and the land-

scape has changed since William Byrd and his company traversed the wilds of

Virginia. Then, the well -being and aspi ration of the traveller were easily

s u p ~ l jed by natural contributions t o the surveyors' diet and health. Now,

the connection between the successful traveller and the land i s mre

elusive and more fragile, and the goal of the journey less material. To I

be conclusively and absolutely aware of being there, the spectator must

be almost not-there. His own presence must n o t corrupt the si.te, just as

preconception must no t corr2pt his documentation.

Byrd claimed his place in the landscape through the palpable success

of his survey, a measurable, definitive achievement. Even ~r&vecoeur's

farmer, until his catastrophe, could resort t o a quantifiable inventory of a.

his property and prosperity t o verify his position and status. Bartram, on

the other hand, holds a more tenuous lease. As a relentlessly inquiring,

curious travef l e r , he i s tenant of no one landscape b u t of aft landscape;

his proprietorship i s established by his abil i ty t o see and render place, d

a n d t o recreate i t in his ar t . Without this medium of perceptual sympathy

and aesthetic intention, the traveller in- Bartram's America i s $nly an

alien wanderer a t large in an unintelligible nature. 4

A1 though there i s an implicit ethic of gentle probity and persevering

intell igence in his writing, Bartram seldom intrudes upon the natural

scene with moral or sentimental SPeculation. One occasion when he does,

however, i s revealing for the k i n d of information he detects in natural

experience and for the character of the metaphorical relationship he

establishes between scene and mind. A tempest overcasts an idyllic view,

disturbing the pastoral calm with a tumult of wind and elemental fury:

"0 peaceful A1 tamaha! Gentle by nature! How thou wert ruffled! Thy wavy

surface disfigured every object, presenting them obscurely to the sight, -

and they a t length totally disappeared, whilst the furious winds and

sweeping rains bent the lofty groves and prostrated the quaking grass,

driving the affrighted creatures to their dens and caverns" (p . 194). -

The storm subsides by morning and calm returns with sunlight and clear

sky. With the specifics of his description of the tempest -- "disfigured"

objects, obscured and

animals retreating t o

meditation, finding a

obl iterated view, "prostrated" grass, "affrighted"

"dens and caverns'' -- Bartram constructs his moral

correspondence between the dark, obscure chaos

of the storm and the blind bassions visi t ins man in spir i tuai di~@~ointment,

fear and despair.

The well-contrived system a t once becomes a chaos; every idea of happiness recedes; the splendor of glory darkens and a t 1 ength total ly disappears ; every pl easfng object i s defaced, a1 1 i s deranged, and the flattering scene passes qui te away; a gloomy cloud pervades the understanding, and when we see our progress retarded and our best intentions frustrated, we are a p t t o deviate from the adrnoni tions and convictions of virtue, t o shut our eyes upon o u r gulde and preceptor, doubt of his power and despair of his assistance, B u t l e t us wait and rely on our God, who in due time will shine forth I n brightness ..., (p. 1951,

The most important device in this lesson i s the figurative use of the

faculty of vision -- a conventional enough trope in discussions of

re1 igious faith b u t in Bartram's hands one which reflects back on the kind 0

of natural piety which inspires his a r t . To see clearly and completely

i s t o experience -thetic fel ici ty and moral confidence; to see imperfectly

or n o t a t a l l is t o be lost in a confusing and deathly chaos. The more

apparent and ful ly-executed the scene, the .more secure and optimis t i c the

witness , even in this vast wi 1 derness. Conversely, of course, the kind

of disorder and bafflement which ensued a t the slaughter of the buck

threatens the perceptual relationship of the spectator t o the landscape, and

the a r t i s t t o his materials.

A t one of the few times when Bartram feels an unqualified fraternity

between himself and a companion, he describes a moment of social and moral ( perfection. Returning from an unsuccessful h u n t (and their failure no

doubt enc~uraged the wri te r ' s compl acency) , Bartram and his fe l l ow en joy

a "wholesome" and "delicious" r e ~ a s t. His hunger satisfied, Bartram

contemplates the essence of the moment:

~ b w supremely blessed were our hours a t his time! Plenty of del i cious and heal thful food, our stomachs keen, w i t h con tented minds ; under no control , b u t what reason and ordinate passions dictated, far removed from the seats of s t r i fe . ,"

Our situation was like t h a t of the primitive s ta te of man, ,/ ' peaceable ,contentedandsociable . Thesimpleandnecessary ,

calls of nature being satisfied, we were a1 together as brethren of one family, strangers to envy, ma1 ice and rapine (pp. 202-3).

The kind of security that Bartram finds, with his single companion, a t

this remote place i s a consolidation of the traveller 's isolation. A t

these moments, his separation from society (and i t s brutish complications

of "envy, ma1 ice and rapine") i s no negative t u r n of events, b u t an

enti rely constructive one. His condition of sol i tude and estrangement

r e q i r e s t h a t some a1 ternate connection between s e l f and outer world be

es tab1 i shed. This connection i s created t h r d g h the consis tent e i e rc i se

of mind and perception which, f o r the travel wr i te r , r e su l t s in a l i t e r a r y

text . Later, Thoreau made a o'FQce for h imel f t h u s wherever he went -- a t \

Cape Cod, in Maine, o r i n nearer neighbourhoods -- by seeing thoroughly

and well , and >by making f i rs thand commentary i t s e l f a connective device.

In Canada, Catharine Parr Trail 1 simi t a r l y tenanted a strange landscape

by remarking i t methodical l y . For these t rave l le rs , the journey narrative

i s a process of becoming a famil iar in an a l ien place.

Notes

Chapter 2

In "CrBvecoeur Revisited" (Journal of Pmerican Studies, 9 , No. 2

(1975) 129-44), Marcus Cunliffe argues tha t Cr6vecoeur found his American 1 audience only a t the beginning sf the twentieth cefttttry . A1 though the 1782

London edition of Letters from an American Farmer and the 1784 and 1787

French edi tions of Lettres d ' u n Cul t iva teur G r i c a i n %ere popular abroad,

the American edi t ion of 1793 " fe l l f l a t . " Cunl i f f e distinguishes between ," "voluntary leavers" ( i m i g r a n t s and seq t l e r s ) and "involuntary leavers" ,

(exi les and 6 d g r 6 s ) a n d says tha t ~revecoeur was a *mixture" of both

types of "1 eavers . " Rumours of c l e r i ca l and oedagogical a c t i v i t i e s suggest t ha t the widow

Knight had a reputation for 1 i teracy . See tblcolm Frei berg 's introduction /

to The Journal of Madam-Kniqht (1825; r o t . Boston: Godine, 1972), p . 13.

A 1 1 subsequent references will be to th i s edi t ion.

See Louis B . Wright's introduction to The Prose Works of William Byrd

of %es tover (Carnbri dge: Be1 knap, l 9 6 6 ) , p p . 19-20. A1 1 subsequent references

will be to th i s ed i t ion .

Byrd's casual (or oerhaps very ser ious) a t t i t u d e towards pub1 icat ion

m y be a t t r ibu tab le to the f a c t t ha t one version of the journey -- the

~ e i i i t s of the survey and the ~ r o j e c t i o n of the Line i t s e l f - - had already

been o f f i c i a l l y registered i n London,

I n "'liiilliam Syrd's Fis tor ies o f the Line: The Fashioning of a Hero"

[ h r i c a n Li terature, c 7 , !to. 4 !1975i, 535-511, Donald T. Siebert , J r . ,

argues t h a t Byrd used the two his tor i es to recreate h imsel f , t o expunge

"what he saw as excesses and f au l t s in his own character and to promote

a se l f - imge based on worthy principles of moderation and judiciousness.

David Smith, i n ' W i I ? iam Byrd Surveys America" (Early American

k- Literature, 11, No. 3 (1976), 296-310), argues tha t the l i n e i t s e l f i s a

metaphor i n Byrd's nar ra t ives , an axis with one terminus in c iv i l i za t ion

P a n d the other in the " s t a t e of nature." Yet the survey was a h is tor ica l --

event, and the l i n e was, and i s , located in physical ac tua l i ty . Smith's

argument my be an attempt to account for the power of Byrd's denotative,

bisctirsSve prose. :fr any case, S m i t h regognizes nei ther the genre of

travel w r i t i n g nor i t s 1 i te ra l s t ruc tu re , for he f ee l s tha t Byrd created +

his discourse o u t of nothing, without inspiration from 1 i terary conventions,

a n d was f ina l ly defeated by his owngingenuity: "The unique and highly

o r i g i n a l riotion of a h is tor ica l -1 i terary piece organized upon the actual

e x ~ e r i ences o f a cadas t r a ? land-s urvey confronted the author, however,

w i t h problems of composi tion tha t became insurmountable" (p. 298).

S t . Jean de CrBvecoeur , Letters from an American Farmer (New York:

Doubleday), p . 21. All subseauent references will be to th i s ed i t ion . =

d S t . Jean de Cr$yecoeuv, Sketches of Eighteenth Century America

Haven: Yale U n i v . Press, 1925), p, 110.

John and William Sartram's h e r i c a , ed. Helen Gere ~ ru i ikshank .

York: Bevin-Adair, 1 9 5 7 ) , op. xiv-xvi . A1 1 subsequent references

be t o t h i s edi t ion .

Chapter 3

Moving West : Narra t i ves o f Jonathan Carver,

Samuel Hearne , A1 exander Henry andP Daniel Harmon Q-

The four t rave l le rs whose writings I shal l di'scuss, i n t h i s chapter

a l l journeyed west o r northwest across the continent, penetrating to areas (

of North America where few Engl ish-speaki ng travel 1 e rs had been before.

A f 1 were in the advance guard of British expansion i n the New World. 5

Jonathan Carver's Travels through the In ter ior Parts of North America in

' the Years 1766, 1767, and 1768 (1 778) describes a journey of two years and

f ive months which took him, a t i t s fur thes t extent , i n t ~ w h a t i s now

Minnesota; he passed the winter of 1766-67 a t a Sioux v i l lage on the b

Minnesota River. Samuel' Hearnebs Journey to the. Northern Ocean (1 795) i s

an account o f his expe& tion to the mouth *- >--h of t e Coppermine River in 1769-72. 4

Alexander Henry's Travels and Adventures i-a= Canada (1809) recounts the

w r i t e r ' s experience as a t rader and prospector i n the area of Michilima~kinac

between 1761 and 1776 and his journey t o the Great Plains in 1775. Daniel

Harmon's career with the North West Company, which began in 1800, i s recorded \i

i n h is Sixteen Years in the Indian Country (1820); Harmon passed eight and Q

0

a half of those years west of the ~ockie;, in New Caledmia. Three of these

journey-makers were born in the Americah colonies: Carver in Massachusetts 1

i n 7710; Henry in New Jersey i n 1739; Harmon i n Vermont i n -1 778. ' Hearne

was born in London in 1745, and served in the Royal Navy during the Seven

'fears War before he came to North America i n 1766. None of these wri.ters

were men of l e t t e r s , a1 though they can scarcely be cal led un-li terary in

v i e w of t he i r remarkable 1 i t e ra ry achievements. Carver may have been a

shoemaker before or during his intermit tent career with the colonial mjl i t i a ;

Hearne ,- Henry and Harmon were a1 1 fur traders -- Hearne for. the Hudson's Bay

Company, Harmon for the North West Company. Henry t aded i'ndependently ! until h e affi l iaied his interests with thoie of-the N b t h West Company.

Structurally, their books bear close comparison and the similarities

in the arrannement of these docurknts arise from their similar rhetorical , -. -,

functions : each wri ter discovered in his extraordinary experience an

occasion to inform a home audience of the character of remote regions. Carver

and Hearne f e l t , perhaps more than the others, civic responsibility in

this matter: their personal experiences had large public impdrt, and they

documents f i t to present t o a cur i ous

. H

his

each spent many years developing their journals into long, ~pmpcehensi ve /

European audience. Henry I s reports

pretend t o 1 ess authori ta t i veness

"travels" in his composi tion, and

i s "adventures" hold equal place with hiss

narrati ve intersperses i nte1,l i gent -

observa t idy with exci t i ng s tory-tel 1 i ng. H a m f the four, most clearly

demonstrates in his journals the social function 07 li terary notation for "

the a1 ien stranded in a remote wilderness.

Carver's Travels th rough the Interior Parts of North America enjoyed " ,

large popular succe'ss. More than thirty edi tions were pub1 ished. German;

Dutch and French , translations appeared before 1800, and a juvenile abridge- -A -

m e n t wps eventual ly translated into German, French, Swedish, Dutch and

' reek*. - The s truc t u l P of hi s wi del y-read document may .have ,provi ded an

influential model for la ter travellers -- Hearne a n d Harmon --_ follow i t and

b o t h refer to Carver's work -- in setting ou t a bipartite organization of

ma teri a1 : the sequenti a1 narrative Ffi,travel, I carefuTly fleshed o u t with / I

occasional general i z a t i o n and expatiation which rarely develop into digression,

is fol lowed by exhaustive appendices treating the aboriginal 'societies

en-countered and describing the creatures inhabiting the regions visited. -

Only a third of Travels i s taken up'by fhe .narrati,ve of travel ; the remainder

of the book i s devoted t o appendi cul a r materi a1 . A1 thdugh some of the content 8

of the apDendices i s patently drawn from firsthand observation o r from . 1

acknowledged consul tation of secondary sources, much of i t was taken,

unacknowl edged, from the reports of earl i er , French travel 1 ers -- Charlevoix,

Hennepin and Lahontan. h q h n ' ~ a r k e r , in his introduction to Carver's I - e

' 5

J'ournals, identifies one Arthur ~ i c k n e i l , a London literary hack, as the

probable "edi tor" w h o thus tampered wi t h Carver's manuscr'ipt and .copied

out the descriptions of aboriginal society t o thicken the vol ume. Yet

additions and'facti tious amp1 i fications cannot be laid enti rely a t Bicknell ' s -,

(or someone else 's) . door. Ten years passed between the time Carver f i r s t

wrote o u t his journals, a t Hichili~ackinac in the winter of 1767-68, and the ..

pub1 ication of his Travels in 1778. ~uring' t h a t interval, Carver expanded ,

and re-organized his materials t o perfect them for public presentation.

Included in the second. of four versions of the journals (which signiffdantly

extends the f i r s t version) i s a note "To the Reviser." In this he acquiesces

in any necessary changes in the manuscript: "any t h j n g t h a t the reviser

shall see f i t to;add t o embellish or give better sence- t o the journal will

I dare say be very agreeable t o the publisher and to the author. ,I 2

Carver's final manuscript version of the Travels i s n o t extant; nor are his i

own versions of the appendices available. However, Carver was closely

involved in the publ f i a t i o n of his text, and we cannot dismiss as unwarranted

Bicknef 1 ' s heedless borrowi~g -- from sources which, in ather parts of the

appendices, Carver dutiful l y acknowledges. On the one hand, we know thG -

Carver was responsible for the authentic parts of the journal and we can . . 3

-suppose t h a t Bicknell was responsible for the plagiarism. On - the other hand,

we must see tha t Carver i.s not unimplicated i n the f a l s i f i c a t i o n s , and tha t

he collaborated, t o some degree, i n the procedures necessary to produce a

weighty vol ume of t rave ls . 1

The ten years which passed between the conclusion of h is t ravels 4

and the publication of th i s narrat ive may have had

development of the ra ther spare a n d matter-of-fact

journal. Carver's e f fo r s t o ge t from the Brit ish 5 ment fo r his survey on i t s behalf were, fo r a long

a l o t t o do with the

f i r s t version of his '& '

government some reimburse- $

while, frui-t less and

f rus t r a t ing . While these negotiations went on, the idea of pub1 icat ion -I

L

became more and more importunate, as a t a c t i c for realizing. some material s

benefit from his expedi t on. In t h e meantime, the metamorphosis of the h

journals in to the Travels occurred. Possibly the most s ign i f i can t change is

i n Carver's presentation of the motives fo r his journey. He had been engaged 1

by Maj. Robert Rogers, a regular o f f i ce r i n the British Army, a s draftsman

to an expedition in search of the Northwest passage. In the journals he

consistently acknowledges his o f f i c i a l assignment. In. the Travels, however?, ' '*

J;.

Carver suggests re ther forceful ly t h a t he uydertook the expedition on his own-

.. i n i t i a t i v e , inspired by the unknown extent of the t e r r i t o r i e s which had

accrued to the Bri t ish crown a f t e r the French and Indian wars. And he

makes no mention of- meeting u p with two other t r ave l l e r s , a Bri t ish o f f i ce r .

and a Montreal t rader , s en t out by Rogers i n the same mission. Throughout, *

- Carver's Travels strongly imp1 ies tha t , w i t h the exception of a French guide . -

and a Mhawk servant, t h e wri ter t ravel led alone. . In developing - and perfecting -

his composition, Carver was moved by two ideas : f i r s t , the poss ib i l i ty for .

personal sel,f-aggrandi zemnt in the making of exotic journeys ; second, and

9

. more imgortant,' ttk dramatic e i c i tement of se t t ing out i n t b the unknown in

the service ~ f : his nation. Some time between 1-768 and 1778 Carver g;asped . I W ' Q. - . . . as his own the ofP.icia1 motive of the expedition, and his book re f l ec t s t h i s

theme. d 8. In his narrat ive, he expresses some feel i ng of ' haste and urgency in

4

get t ing a t these vast regions a t 3 h e heart of the continent. Following I I

0 * mi 1 i tary victory, accurate survey and notation could consol ida te conquest.

'7 :'In his introduction, Carver writes :

a

O * No soon& was the 1 a t e !4ar w i t h France concl "ded, and Peace es tab1 i shed by the Treaty pf Versail l es in the Year 1763, than I $bgan to consider (havinwenddered.my country some services during the war) how I might continue $ t i l l serviceable , and contribute, as much as lay in my power, t o make t h a t vast acquisi t ion of t e r r i to ry , gained by Great Bri ta in, i n North Ameri cay advantageous to i t. I t appeared to me indispensably

--needful, t h a t Government should be acquainted in the f i r s t place w i t h The t rue s t a t e o'f the dominions they were now become possessed of. To th i s purpose,' r determined, as the next proof of my Zeal , t o explore the most unknown parts of them, and to spare no trouble or expence in a c q u i ~ i n g a knowledge tha t promised to be so useful t o my countrymen. 3

P 4

He c i t e s as a complementary incentive the heinous inaccuracy of French maps -

and -surveys of the area. His mission as an Englishman and agent of h is

nation i s t o revise mistaken ideas and produce a complete and cor rec t - .

representation of th i s region -- in Engl i sh . ~ i n g u i s t i ' c conquest follows

mil i tary conquest, pointing to the f ina l eventuality of economic and social

occuoation of the new ' lapd. 14 ke the Elizabethan navigators and explorers

who were urged by th'eir government to go out to the New World, take careful

note of everything they saw, and hasten home with, the news, Carver sees

himself, in the ~ & v e l s , as an emissary. Most t e l l i n g of a l l , as to h i s

vision of his endeavour, i s his report of his return. A1 though h e comes '

home to Boston ini'October 1768, Boston i s not t h e terminus of h i s journey. 'se .

There i s n ye t anothe; s t age to be accomplished:

In October 1768 I arrived a t Boston, having been absent from i t on this expedition two years and five months, and during t h a t time travelled near seven thousand miles. From thence, as soon as I had properly digested my Journal and Charts, I s e t o u t for England, to comnunicate the discoveries I had made and t o render them beneficial to the kingdom (p. 177).

1

Here, where the documentary inspiration i s central, the arrival i s Boston

is no conclusive homecoming. The traveller has not completed his journey

until he has presented his experience t o his proper audience. Carver arrived

in London in the spring of 1769, and remained there until he died, in 1780,

barely more than a year after the publication of his Travels.

Carver's rhetorical authority rests with his claim t o accuracy. He

defends this position in several ways. The organization of the text i tself

substantiates i t s content: the narrative of travel; with i t s sequential

record of the writer 's itinerary, authenticates the copious material in the

appendices . The 1 i neari ty of the narrative in effect documents the wri ter ' s

authoritative experience: he has been there, as his itinerary shows, a n d .

he speaks from firsthand knowledge. As well, in his "Address t o the Public"

in the third edition, Carver defends himself against charges of credulity

in observing and reporting instances of -3ndi an prescience a n d announces t h a t

the author "has not, as travellers are supposed to do, amused [his readers]

with improbable tales or wished t o acquire importance by making his \* adventures favour the marvel l y s . '14 Further, in the narrative and in the

appendices, he repudiaks some of the "improbable tales" of. early observers

and repeatedly rai Is against .the fa1 lacies perpetrated by the innaccurate

maps composed by the French. By thus showing vigilant scepticism and lively

indignation a t erroneous documentation, Carver demonstrates his own devotion

t o t r u t h . These structural and="argumentative qua1 i t ies in the text contribute

t o w e reader's confidence in Carver as a reliable witness: Carver stoutly

n~aintai ns tha t , however out1 andish the phenomena reported, he of fers

a l i t e r a l account of an actual experience, and h is declarations t o th i s

e f f ec t were essent ial t o the sa t i s fac t ion and pleasure h'is contemporary

readers could have in information he comnunicated.

B u t , along .with t h i s demonstrative scepticism and dedication to correct-

ness, Carver enter tains an a t t i t u d e of credulity which i s equally important- *

to sa t i s fy ing the expectations of his audience. From the s t a r t , Europeans

expected something extraordinary from the New World. Lurking a t the. margins

of rational thought was the poss ib i l i ty tha t the physical laws which governed ,

phenomena in the known world might be in abeyance in the New World. For

instance, the ordinary economic balance between scarci ty and supply might

be inoperative in the Western Hemi sphere: the trans-Atlanti c voyager

might meet with edenic abundance and fabulous quantity. Or, on the other

hand, t e r r i f i c dangers and dread monstrosities unheard-of in the Old World

might beset the travel 1 e r . There might be magic abroad -- magic which could ~

be documented.

Carver, for a1 1 his observance of the forms and a t t i tudes of the sceptical

observer, i s suscept ible t o the fan tas t ica l promise of strange lands, and,

a t cer ta in points, he employs his documentary form in a sur rept i t ious myth-

making. For example, h is geographical and topographical disclosures

are sometimes based on an unana

hearsay. His discussion of the

from the reports of the Indians

suggestions s f other travel 1 e rs

Mountains , " and the name i tsel f

yzed mixture of f i rs thand observation and

Rocky Yountains (which he never saw) ar i ses

among whom he dwelt and from the unverified

He refers to the Rockies as the "Shining

seems to transport him. They a re cal led t h i s

"from an i n f i n i t e number of crystal stones, of an amazing s i ze , with which

they are covered, and whi 'dh, when the sun shines full upon them, sparkle so

as t o be seen a t

gl i ttering range . .

$ t o unprecedented

a very great distance" (p. 121) . The idea of this

leads him fur-kher, through notions of physical . i .mnsi t y

riches t o the emergence-of a -justly governed and well'

provisioned society t h a t would be &-refuge- for Europeans:

This extraordinary range of mountains i s calculated t o be more t h a n three thousand miles in length, without any very considerable intervals, which I bejieve surpasses any thing of the kind in the%ther quarters , of the globe. Probably in future ages they may be found t g contain more riches in their bowels, than those o f Indostan and Malabar, or that ape produced on the Golden Coast of Guinea.; nor wi 11 I except even the Peruvian Mines. To the west of these mountains, when explored by future Columbuses or Raleighs, may be found other lakes, rivers, and countries, full fraught with a1 1 the necessaries or . 1 uxuries of 1 i fe ; and where. future generations may find an asylum, driven from the i r country by the ravages of lawless tyrants, or by re1 igious persecutions, or re1 uctantly leaving i t to remedy the i nconveni ences ari s i ng from a superabundant i ncrease of i nhabi tants ; whether, I say, impelled by these, or allured by hopes of commercial advantages, there i s l i t t l e d o u b t b u t their expectations will be fully .

*gratified. in these rich and unexhausted climes ( p . 122 ) . 4

These speculations on surpassing weal t h were empi rical ly unfounded. Carver

offers nothing t o substantiate them, and assumes his authority to make such , . * -

statements only on the basis of the alleged accuracy of the rest of the

narrative, a n d , as we1 1 , on the tradi t i on? of ~ew ' ~ o r l d voyage 1 i terature

(which he invokes by referring t o Columbus and Raleigh). All along,

travellers were on the look-out for a new eden, and their remarks on the

physical characteris t ics of Ameri ca were organi zed to encourage thei r

audience's postulations of abundance and sanctuary on the oLher side of the

ocean.

However, in the New World hypothesis, fantasies of plenttude &

coexisted with notions of the dire risks associated with journeying into the ,

u n k n o w n . While Carver's America presents few physical hazards and many

consolations, i t does menace the wayfarer with the nearly unthinkable savagery

138 ,/' *k ,

o f the a b o r i g i n a l i n h a b i t a n t s . I n h i s i n v e s t i g a t i o n s i n t o the r i t e s and

p rac t i ces o f n a t i v e nat ions , Carver pays d i s p r o p o r t i o n a t e a t t e n t i o n t o t h e

' war-making o f t h e t r i b e s through whose t e r r i t o r i e s he t r a v e l l e d . Seventy

oa3es a r e devoted t o m i l i t a r y procedures; "games" and r e c r e a t i o n are a l l o t t e d L--+-

four pag-es. - A1 though Carver has a genera l l y sympathet ic a t t i t u d e towards

Ind ian c u l t u r e 'and occas iona l l y recommends i t over EuroFean c i v i 1 i zat ion, \

he dwel ls on the vengeful f e r o c i t y o f hi: hosts w i t h emphatic i n t e r e s t ,

s e i z i n g the idea of f e l l c r u e l t i e s w i t h imag ina t i ve v igour : "The f i g u r e *

. of t h e combatents a1 1 besmeared w i t h b lack and red p a i n t , and covered w i th - , ,

the b lood o f t he s l a i n , t h e i r h o r r i d y e l l s and ungovernable fury, a re n o t

t o be conceived by those who have never crossed t h e A t l a n t i c " (p. 312).

Indeed, i n t h i s moral scheme, the A t l a n t i c seems t o be t h e demarcation

between o rde r and f u r y , as w e l l as between s c a r c i t y and abundance. Carver 's

exhaust ive d e s c r i p t i o n s o f I n d i a n war fare were c a l c u l a t e d t o appeal t o the

European imag inat ion , and he se ts up the same f i g u r a t i v e consequences o f

1 i f e i n the New World t h a t John Richardson does i n Wacousta: America i s

a f a n t a s t i c a l realm and arena f o r the enactment o f some gruesome a n x i e t i e s ,

as w e l l as f o r those conso l i ng wishes which surmised the r i c h e s o f t h e

Sh in ing Mountains.

Yet a l l t h i s occurs w i t h i n a documentary frame. Carver pu rpo r t s t o

convey 1 i t e r a l t r u t h s ; h i s impressions a re cata logued and l o g i c a l l y disposed;

h i s specu la t ions o f t e n wear a decent a i r o f sober de l i be ra t i veness . . He

presents h imse l f throughout as an a t t e n t i v e , dedicated specta tor , as he

does here, i n a d e s c r i p t i o n o f h f s h a b i t s of observat ion: "The t ime I

t a r r i e d among t h e WinnebagoesJ, I: employed i n making the b e s t observat ions

poss ib le on the country, and i n c o l l e c t i n g the most c e r t a i n i n t e l l i g e n c e I

could of the origin, language, and customs of this people" ( p . 33) . His

note-taking becomes his distinguishing c h a r a c t e r i s i and the' sioux name

him "Shebaygo, which signifies a writer, or a person that is curious in

making hieroglyphicks, as they often saw me b i t i n g u (p. 380). $

His status as observer and a1 ien witness is one which requires adroit

maintenance. We must f i r s t achieve sufficient intimacy with his hosts t o

acquire the kind af particular information which comprise an important

document. Then he must exercise tact in his investigations, restraining

his scepticism regarding his hosts ' be1 izefs andlri tuals , and avoiding the

kind of hyper-curiosi ty which would jeopardize his relations with the foreign

group. For instance, when attempting t o discover the ceremonies attendant

to interment, " I found. . .that they considered my curiosity as i l l -timed,

and therefore I withdrew" ( p . 401 ) . A1 though note- taking i s an acceptable

practice for the alien observer, investigation and scepticism must n o t be

carried to the point where the traveller becomes a spy or interloper. 0

Early in his narrative, Carver describes a diff icul t situation in

which he was asked t o demonstrate his allegiante to the members of a Sioux

tribe and, as a-corollary of his fealty, show his hostility to their Chippewa

enemies. "As I was a stranger, and unwi 11 ing t o excite the anger of either

nation, I knew not how to act; and never found myself in a greater dilemman

( p . 60). He resolves the dilemma by acting as a conciliator and going as

an envoy to the Chippewas to negotiate a truce. Once peace i s established,

Carver can go on his way. The traveller 's apparent social and political

neutrality is essential t o his expeditious progress. I f he i s t o move freely,

he must neither offend with his aloofness nor implicate himself with

attachment. The necessity of the traveller 's neutrality i s , in these four

. . books, most clearly demonstrated by Samuel Hearne's experience in making his

d

- way from Prince of Wales I s Fort a t Churchill on Hudson's Bay t o the Arctic

Ocean.

Hearne's Journey t o the Northern Ocean i s structurally comparable to

Carver's Travels : catalogues of information on indigenous cul tures and

3 on local beasts, fowl and fishes are appended t o the narrative of the 5 journey. However, in Hearne's work, appendi cul a r materi-a1 comprises

only one quarter of the whole text. And Hearne's narrative portion conveys

a much more emphatic sense of daily advance and of progressive acquisition

of knowledge than Carver ' s narrative does. On the outward journey, to the

south o'f the -Coppermine, the 1 inear narrative i s predominant, measuring

each stage of the trek with consistent attention. One has the feeling

t h a t a t the outset Hearne had l i t t l e idea of where he was going (for he

relied entirely on his Indian guides) and t h a t the particular notation of

progress was very important t o Hearne's orienting himself in the midst of

this vast unknown. After the goal of the journey i s achi&ed, expatiative - - +

units are more numerous, and sometimes so lengthy as to amount t o digression.

Another aspect of Hearne's narrative -- one evident also i n the writings of

Henry and Harmon -- distinguishes i t from Carver's: Hearne's composition

is the product of n o t just one journey b u t of a long residence in the

wi 1 derness . When he offers his impressions and observations, they are

corroborated by the extent of his experience. When he quantifies, he speaks

with s ta t is t ical ly reliable authority, as when in his catalogue of fishes

he writes: "The Black Whale i s sometimes found as far South as Churchill

River, and I was present a t the killing of three there; b u t this was in

the course of twenty years" (p . 252). A1 though Hearne's journey i s the

prsncipal justification of the composition, i t i s n o t , as Carver's was,

an event romantical ly, dramatically isolated from the writer's ordinary

existence. Hearne's journey was situated within his long experienck3n the

New WorTd, and i t s text could not challenge logic with fabulousness without

discrediting the writer 's intelligence or sanity. Magic i s a .short-termt

"notion, and will n q t outlast twenty years abroad.

Far from concealing his official instructions and motive, as Carver . .

does, Hearne cites in his introduction the warrant for his expedition, which

comnds him t o find out as much a s ' a n , record this information and

transmit i t t o the governor of the fort as regularly as possible. Hearne

obeyed these instructions and his journals were soon forwarded t o London,

t h a t the, officials of the Hudson's Bay Company could peruse them. B u t this

was not the conclusion of the l i terary activity generated by the venture,

While s t i l l in Canada, Hearne began the elaborations on his log which were

t o result in the published text, a n d from his final return to England in 4

1787 almost up t o his death i n 1792, he continued t o perfect his narrative

and catalogues .6 Encouraged by Engl ish friends distinguished for their

authoritative interest in scientific discoveries arising from exotic voyages,

Hearne came t o understand t h a t his experience in the Arctic was of a con-

sequence more than merely comnercial and that i t merited a l i terary treatment

beyond the official reports dispatched t o the Hudson's Bay Company. The

development of A Journey t o the Northern Ocean from the original journals

to the final text can be described' in t e n s of the postulated audience for

which Hearne wrote: a t - first his audtence was only officia?, and he replied

t o specific instructions. Later, however, Hearne's postulated audience grew,

to represent the curiosity of a large ,public and t o reply t o both scientific

anc .. lay fascination w i t h remote places, Similarly , Carver's audience grew

and his tex t expanded as his vision of the importance of h is journey

developed beyond his original , of f i c i a l assignment.

Accuracy seem scarcely an issue in Journey t o the Northern Ocean.

!.I though Hearne's meri dional and 1 a t i tudinal observations a r e more or l e s s

erroneous,' they are with such responsible regular i ty tha t t h e i r

inaccuracy does not a f f e c t the essent ial veracity of the document. His

descriptions of northern creatures are thorough and methodi ca1 , deriving

not only from careful observation b u t a l so from close fami l ia r i ty w i t h many

o f the animals described: ne kept ,as pe ts , a t one time or another during

his ,long residence a t Churchill, beavers, mink, weasels, s q u i r r e l s , mice,

hawks and other fowl. A1 though he learned the names and zoological *

c lass i f ica t ions of many of the species he encountered only l a t e r , when he

returned to England, h i s investigations of the brute population of the Arctic

grew from a deep personal i n t e r e s t -- a n a t u r a l i s t ' s i n t e r e s t . For a l l his

hardiness and his capacity to survive the harshest conditions, Hearne i s , l i k e

William Bartram o r Catharine Parr Trail1 o r Thoreau, a gentle inquirer into

natural a f fa i r s .

Hearne i ns i s t s on tbe pre-emi nence of f i r s thand experience ( "ocular

demorstrations") and he i s c r i t i c a l of the "romancing t r ave l l e r " who P

a t t r ibu tes fabulous character is t i c s to foreign phenomena i n order to

agcyandi ze his document. 10' his discussion of the habitations of beavers,

he reoudi a tes t h e anthroponorphic mythologizing t h a t had obscured fac ts :

"Those who have undertaken t o describe the inside of beaver-Rouses, as having

several apartments a s p r o ~ r i a t e d to various uses ; such as eat ing, sleeping,

store-houses for ~ r o v i s i o n r , and one f o r t h e i r natural occasions, &c, must

-

143 -

have been very l i t t l e acquainted with the subject ; o r , which i s s t i l l %orse,

gui 1 ty of attempting t o impose on the credulous, by representing the grea tes t

falsehoods as real f ac t s " ( p . 148). In the practices of these wri t e r s , Hearne

sees two s ins : f i r s t , the w r i t e r ' s lack of f i rs thand experience of his

subject and, second; h is exploitatibn of a documentary form to convey f ic t ions .

For Hearne, the travel genre charges the wr i te r w i t h the responsi bi 1 i ty of

1 i t e ra l veracity, and of speaking what he knows without a r t i f i c i a l l y extending

his experience t o s a t l s f y the expectations of his audience. Text and

experience must be eaui valent , and i t i s the exactitude of the equation in

Hearne's writ ing tha t gives Journey to the Northern Ocean i t s verbal

authori ty .

I n t h i s , Hearne i s distinguished from Carver, and the differences between

the two w r i p r s might be m s t c lear ly demonstrated by comparing Carver's \ a

Shining frbuntains with Hearne's ~ o p p e h i n e . The rumoured mines a t the r i v e r ' s

estuary a re the ostensible goal of Hearne's t rek , and 'as , a n element i n the

travel narrative they suggest the climactic connotations of the long-sought

dest inat ion. However, his des t ina t ion ' s eminence in the l i t e r a r y s t ruc ture

of t h e narrat ive does not deter Hearne from reducing the consequences of

hi,s m r i v a l when he f ina l ly v i s i t s one o f these mines:

Th i s n ine, i f i t deserve that*appel lat ion, i s no more than an e n t i r e j m b l e o f rocks a n d gravel, which has been ren t many ways by an earthauake. Through these ruins there runs a small r ive r ; but no part of i t J at the time I #as there, was mre than knee-deep,

The Indians who were the occasion o f my undertaking th i s journey, represent& this nine t n k m rich a n d valwble, t h a t if a- fac tory - - -

were b u i l t a t the river, a ship might be ballasted with the ore instead of stone; and # a t w i t h the s a w ease 'andmdispatch as i s done w i t h stones a t Churchif 1 Rivgr, By t h e i r account the h i l l s >/

i

were en t i r e ly comgosed of tha t mtal , a17 in'handy lumps, l i k e a 4'

qeao o f pebbles. 3 u t t he i r account differed so much from the t r u t h , t'na t I atid a l m s t a l l ny conmanions expended near four hours in search o f sore of t h i s m e t a l , w i t h such poor success, t ha t among 3s a l l , m l y one ~ i e c e o f any s i z e could be found. This, however, ~ 3 5 remrkabl y g d , acd wei ghed above four pounds ( p . 112).

144

There a re no r iches here t o compare with o r surpass those of "Indostan

and Malabar;" even the r ive r i t s e l f i s scarcely knee-deep. Hearne has

come th i s f a r to see a "jumble of rocks and gravel. " Simi 1 a r ly , Carver

reports no actual mineral finds beyond some largish lumps of lead sca t te red

on the s t r e e t s of an Indian v i l lage . Within his informational exposition

nothing i s reported which would be l ike ly t o lu re Europeans to th i s hemi-

sphere. Nowonderfut metals o b s t r u c t h i s path. But i n h is speculative

expos i tion ,- positioned jus t beyond the actual extent of h is i t i ne ra ry , I

l i e s grea t promise - - incalculable riches on the refulgent slopes of the

Rockies. And even along his route he infers edenic plenitude a t the most

picturesque locations - - a1 though he never l ingers long enough to test

- his inference. In Carver's nar ra t ive , rumour and promise have important.

rhetori cal functions, pronouncing the importance of the journey and the

document. In Hearne's t ex t , rumour has no u t i l i t y . I t i s barren ground

on the Arctic shore, ~ n d no nar ra t ive climax ensues. Hearne's t ex t travels

no fur ther t h a n his i tfnerary a1 lows.

Throughout Hearne's journey, famine and plenty al ternate c raz i ly . The 6

t rave l le rs languish from hunger, then r i o t in surplus according to the

absence or presence of game i n the neighbo~rhood.~ A t f i r s t Hearne can

make neither head nor t a i l o f t h i s economic s i t u a t i o n , B u t he records each

cycf e of want and plenty, regularly quantifying provender unt i l he can

comrehend the la rger pattern in natural supply. After he has been

for a t i m to the party of Matonabbee, a patriarchal Chipewyan leader Hearne '

- i adapts, and t r u s t s tha t scarc i ty and excess will balance out in the end and

he will reach his destination and accomplish his return, To suryive, he must

adjust provisional 1y t o the economy of 1 i f e on the tundra j u s t as he must

'w

h

145 ,

adjust t o the moral and social environment in which he finds himself.

Hearne's social situation i s a subtle one, for, although he wa;

assigned specific responsibilities by his own government, he i s a follower

and not a leader on this expedition, Before he s e t o u t with Matonabbee in

December 1770, he had made two previous attempts t o get under way b u t each

time had been obstructed in his design by the treachery of his Indian

conductors. In his narrative he. recounts their sly abuse of him ahd his

small party and describes repeated instances of gratuitous hostility and

misrepresentation during the f i r s t twb ventures. Hearne i s terribly alone

among these unreliable and incomprehensible- foreigners, absolutely on his

own -- and worse, given their devious ,obs$ructionism. They fai l to supply

him with the - food contracted for; they harass and mislead him. Later, with

Matonabbee, his situation i s partially relieved; Matonabbee i s a worthy

conductor, imbued whith a savage sense of order, and a fierce but dependable

in te l l i gence and candour. However, Matonabbee i s a foreigner, knowable only 1

t o a degree and tractable to no degree. To accomplish his survey and fulf i l

his 'office Hearne must rely on only the most indirect monition and instruction

t o his conductor. -He i s entirely in Matonabbee's hands.

Hearne reports on the character of the natural environment in an orderly ,

i t i s the social environment which

or failure of the expedition. The

way, b u t i t i s n o t his chief concern. In A Journey to the Northern Ocean

d'iscloses- the probabi 1 i ty of the success

Hearne negotiates with them, not w

Indians take care of route and provisions; f

i t R tbe desolate wt.1 derness. . And these . r

negotiations demand tact and diplomacy -,- as Carver's did in his reported a 1 . & l ,

conciliation o f the Sioux with the Chippewa. The success of Hearne's ? '.

journey depends %the co-ordination of his interests with those of the Indian

company. He can ne i t he r i n t e r r u p t the accustomed course ~f ' th ings t o o A

A

accomplish h i s purpose, nor s e t ou t on h i s own. But n e i t h e r ch'he merge

e n t i r e l y w-ith the Indian group, f o r thit would mean abandoning the spec ia l , - - e

European purpose f o r which he undertook the venture. d m u s t remain

detached, watchful and mindfu l of h i s assignment, b u t no t t o the p o i n t where

he becomes so a1 ienated from h i s conduc,&ors as t o jeopardize t h e i r acquiescence

i n h i s scheme. -

k lh i l e Hearne must p a r t i a1 l y conceal h i s cu l t u r a l detachment from !

Matonabbee's group i n order t o go along w i t h them, he-must emphasize i t

i n h i s address t o h i s audience a t home. For instance, h i s scept ic ism

regarding h i s conductors' con ju r ing r i t e s and ta l ismanic b e l i e f s i s essen t ia l

t o the a u t h o r i t y of h i s t e x t . It recommends him t o h i s readers as an

ob ject ive , detached observer, n o t t o be taken i n by the chicaner ies o f a

p r i m i t i v e cu l ture. I n wi tness ing a hea l ing r i t u a l , he exercises every f a c u l t y

' t o detect the s le ight -o f -hand which makes the shaman appear t o have swallowed C

a la rge board. He o f f e r s h i s readers a r a t i o n a l explanat ion o f the appearance,

b u t i n a repor ted conversation w i t h Matonabbee on the sub jec t he d i p l o m a t i c ~ l l y

re laxes h i s scepticism. Matonabbee t e l l s him he has seen a man ;wallow a \

c h i l d ' s cradle: ' '"This s t o r y so f a r exceeded the fea ts which I had seen . /

w i t h the bayonet and board, t ha t , f o r the sake o f keeping up the f a ~ e ,

I began t o be very i n q u i s i t i v e about the s p i r i t s which appear t o them on I

those occasions, and t h e i r Porn.. . . ' I (p. 141 ) . To accompany Matonabbee on*

h i s t r e k across the tundra, Hearne must go along w i t h c e r t a i n o the r aspects

o f the journey. While he f ee l s 1 i t t l e sympathy %r, abor ig ina l metaphyiics,

c a l l i n g .the r e l i g i o u s b e l i e f s of h i s hosts " s i l l y not ions" and t h e i r I ta l ismanic equipment bundles o f "trash," Hearne ca re fu l l y sc ru t i n i zes what I goes on. The informat ion he acquires by h i s obser&Wons he disPoses i n I

two ways: i n h i s face-to-face t ransact ions w i t h Matonabbee, he c r e d i t s a

the performances and ceremonies, i n order t o i n g r a t i a t e himself w i t h

f o re i gn au tho r i t y . I n h i s t ex t , he ra t i ona l i zes and analyzes these phenomena,

' t h a t they may be seen t o be i n accord w i t h known laws o f phys ica l occurrence

and,also, t h a t he'may a l i g n h imse l f w i t h the c u l t u r a l p r i n c i p l e s o f h i s

audience. To surv ive i n t h i s wi lderness and t o come home again i n a seemly

way, Hearne must be o f two minds.

But- Hearne's a n t i ~ a t h y t o the r e l i g i o u s pract ices o f h i s hosts i s a

much less serious mat te r than h i s aversion t o some o f the e t h i c a l and moral

assumptions of the m i g rant comrnuni ty. The most dramatic and d i s t u r b i n g

event i n the n a r r a t i v e coincides w i t h the journey's goal : a t the mouth o f

the Coppermine, Matonabbee's crew performs a-kideous massacre on a group

o f unoffending, unsuspecting Eskimos camped nearby. When Hearne f i r s t

l ea rns - o f the scheme, he argues against it:

When I was acquainted w j t h the i n ten t i ons o f my companions, arid saw the wa r l i ke preparat ions t h a t were ca r r y i ng on, I endeavoured as much as poss ib le t o persuade them from p u t t i n g t h e i r inhuman design i n t o execution; b u t so f a r weremy i n t r e a t i e s from having the - wished-for e f f e c t , t h a t i t was concluded I was actuated by 'cowardice; and they t o l d me, w i t h g rea t marks o f de r i s ion , t h a t I was a f r a i d o f the Esquimaux. Ag I knew my personal sa fe ty depended i n a g rea t measure on the favourable op in ion they en te r ta ined o f me i n t h i s respect, I was obl iged t o change- my tone.. . . (p. 74).

k Hearne learns t h a t n o t on ly must he n o t in tervene ,Jwt m a t he must

I acquiesce, and appear to. vo lunteer h i s support 07 the planned assaul t . A t

the execution o f h i s companions' b l o o d t h i r s t y design, Hearne i s a shocked

and h o r r i f i e d specta tor -- b u t never so overcome as t o om i t a t t e n t i o n t o

h i s own secur i t y . There, on a barren coast a t the ' top of the world, Hearne

witnesses a scene which, as Carver might say, those who have never crossed a

the A t 1 a n t i c cou ld never imagine:

... i t was'rpar one o'clock in the morning of the seventeenth; when finding a l l the Esquimaux quiet in their tents, they rushed forth from their ambuscade, and fel l on the poor unsuspecting creatures, unperceived t i l l close a t the very eves of their tents, when they soon began the bloody massacre, while I stood neuter, in the rear.

In a few seconds the horrible scene commenced; i t was shocking beyond description.. . . ( p . 99) .

"Neuter in the rear," Hearne watches. B u t his neutrality ultimately

implicates h-im in this horrid event, when a dying Eskimo girl fa l l s a t his

feet , and in her wri things twists herself around his legs. Even though

he pleads for her quick dispatch, he i s somehow not quite innocent of

what has happened. Indeed, his complicity i s a corollary of his difficult

social situation: i f he i s himself t o survive, he must restrain his loathing

and disgust a t the barbarous behaviour of his confederates and suppress

protest and reproof. There i s no audiente here, on the arctic shore, for

reproach or moral outrage, #e curbs his opinions, saving them for the text

of his experience and for a receptive audience.

When he does speak out in this savage company, he learns the consequences ',

of making his a1 ien ideas known and discovers the risk of allowing his

European moral assumptions any expression in this remote place. Through

the return journey, his companions attack, plunder and abduct where they

can: "Every additional act of violence comitted by my companions on the

poor and distressed, served t o increase my indignation and dislike.. . . " ( p . 176). In Apri 1 1772 Hearne's entourage encounters a group of Indians

who are nearly destitute. Exci ted by the vul nerabi 1 i ty of these defenceless

people, some of those attached to Hearne's party ptllage and brutalize

the encampment, and violently rape the women:

Humanity on this, as well as on several other similar occasions during my residence among those wretches, prompted me t o upbraid them with their barbarity; b u t so far were my remonstrances from having the desired effect, t h a t they afterwards made no scruple

of t e l l i n g me i n t h e p l a i n e s t terms, t h a t if any female r e l a t i o n of mine had been there , she should have been served i n t he same manner (p. 184). ,

The h o s t i l i t y o f the I n d i a n s ' r e j o i n d e r i s e v i d e n t enough: Hearne's

p r o t e s t i s regarded as aggressive, and the, Ind ians remind h im t h a t he has

LO a u t h o r i t y f o r such remarks and t h a t he i s as vu lne rab le as t h e i r v i c t i m s .

On t h e journey, Hearne l i v e s i n moral i s o l a t i o n , and sent iment must be

suppressed i n the i n t e r e s t s of s u r v i v a l . Where sent iment can be expressed,

o f course, i s i n t h e t r a v e l l e r ' s l i t e r a r y comnentary on the outrages he

has witnessed. Abroad, he i s powerless, "neuter " and secure o n l y i nso fa r

as he can a t t a c h h i m s e l f t o f o r e i g n a u t h o r i t y . I n

v i n d i c a t e s h i s compl i c i t y i n the loathesome events

o u t now and s t a t i n g h i s p r e v i o u s l y suppressed sent

s t a t i o n and moral o p t i o n . I n t h e t e x t , Patonabbee

h i s n a r r a t i v e , he

repo r ted . By speaking .

iments, he recovers h i s

, who ho lds sovereign

.,- power on t h e tundra, can be analyzed and d i h r m e d .

I n t e r e s t i n g l y , however, Matonabbee' holds h i s own i n t h e f i n a l account ing.

Hearne seems t o have developed s i n c e r e f e e l i n g f o r him, and a sympathet ic

a p p r e c i a t i o n which argues t h a t , whatever t he b i z a r r e and even h o r r i b l e

fo re ignness encountered a long t h e way, t r a v e l 1 e r and n a t i v e achieved f i n a l 1 y

some s u b t l e communion. A t l a s t , Hearne c e l ebrates Matonabbee:

... except t h a t h i s neck was r a t h e r ( though n o t much) too sho r t , he was one o f t h e f i n e s t and b e s t p ropo r t i oned men t h a t I ever saw. I n compl ex ion he was dark, 1 i k e t h e o t h e r Northern Ind ians , b u t h i s face was n o t disfigured by t h a t r i d i c u l o u s custom a f mark ing t h e cheeks w i t h t h r e e o r f o u r b lack 1 i nes . H is fea-ere r e g u l a r and agreeable, and y e t so s t r o n g l y marked and eipressive, t h a t t h e y

-

formed a complete index o f h i s mind; which, as he never in tended t o deceive o r d i s s m b l e , he never wished t o conceal, I n conversa t ion he was easy, l i v e l y , and agreeable, b u t exceedingly modest; and a t t a b l e , t h e nobleness and elegance o f h i s manners m igh t have been admired by t h e f i r s t personages i n t h e world; f o r t o t h e v i v a c i t y o f a Frenchman, and the s i n c e r i t y of an Englishman, he added t h e g r a v i t y and nobleness . o f a Turk; a11 so h a p p i l y blended, as t o render h i s company and conversa t ion un iKersa l l y p1 easing.. . . (pp. 224-251.

Hearne recormends Patonabbee on t h e bas i s o f some Old' t l o r l d t r a i t s -- Engl i s h " s i n c e r i t y , " French. " v i v a c i t y , " Tu rk i sh l vg rav i ty" - - b u t t h i s

sca rce l y reduces h i s o r i g i n a l s t a t u r e . Rather, t h e i d e n t i f i c a t i o n o f these

es t imab le q u a l i t i e s supp l i es some i n t e r e s t i n g news on t h e correspondences

and s imi l i tudes which t ranscend fore ignness, and connect men a t some p o i n t

o f mutual sympathy. Fatonabbee, as a d iscovery , f a r surpasses t h e " jumble

o f rocks and grave l " a t t h e mouth o f t h e Coppermine.

Alexander Henry, too, found some q u a r t e r o f sympathy amid general

h o s t i l i t y . Henry was i n t h e f o r t a t P?ichi l imackinac i n June 1763 when t h e

I g a r r i s o n was massacred by Ind ians e n l i s t e d i n Pon t i ac ' s consp i racy . Only

through the i n t e r v e n t i o n o f Wawatam, a Chippewa who had p r e v i o u s l y c la imed

an adop t i ve k i n s h i p w i t h him, was he preserved from t h e general s l augh te r .

I n Trave ls and Adventures i n Canada, Wawatam provides Henry 's c l o s e s t

con tac t w i t h the f o r e i g n c u l t u r e , and, 1 i k e Matonabbee i n Journey t o the

Morthern Ocean, exemp l i f i es bo th t h e kindredness and a l i e n a t i o n t o be found .- abroad: a f t e r t h e massacre, w h i l e Wawatam gives Henry asylum and p r o t e c t i o n

and welcomes him i n t o h i s own fam i l y , he feas ts on a ceremonial stew

concocted from t h e bones o f Henry 's dead compat r io ts .

Henry came t o the neighbourhood a f M i c h i l irnackinac i n 1761, t o pursue

the f u r t rade . He was among t h e v e r y f i r s t B r i t i s h c i v i l i a n s t o pene t ra te

so f a r and so prompt ly i n the wake o f m i l i t a r y expansion, and h i s e n t e r p r i s e

exposed him t o r i s k s n o t encountered by those who fo l l owed l a t e r . I n h i s

p re face t o h i s Travel s and Adventures, Henry hirnsel f c a l l s h i s . .expedi t ion

"premature." E s s e n t i a l l y , t h e r l i sk l a y i n t h i s : Henry, as an "Englishman,"

was doubly a fo re igne r , He was n e i t h e r French nor I nd ian , French t r a d e r s

had been l o n g a s s i m i l a t e d i n t o the a b o r i g i n a l economlc s t r u c t u r e ; now,

r a t h e r than appear on t h e scene as in terchangeable w i t h the o t h e r Europeans

t he Ind ians had known t h e E n g l i s h t r a d e r s came as rear-guard agents o f e

conquest, enemies t o b o t h Frenchmen and Ind ians . Eng l i sh t r a d i n g pol i c i e s

were s t range and suspect, and' Engl i s h t r a d h r s were unwel come i n t e r l o p e r s .

When Henry encounters a p a r t y o f Algonquins on h i s way ou t , t h e Ind ians

cons ider t h e seriousness o f h i s . s i t u a t i o n when they f i n d o u t t h a t he i s

Engl i s h : I t ' the Upper Ind ians w i l l c e r t a i n l y k i l l him, ' meaning mysel f.

/ These Ind ians hcd l e f t t h e i r v i l l a g e before the sur render o f Montreal , and

I was t h e f i r s t Engl ishman they had seen.ln8 Henry 's foreignness i n t h i s

r e g i o n i s so extreme as t o be mor ta l : he i s so much an a l i e n t h a t h i s

presence cannot be t o l e r a t e d . H is i n t e l l i g e n c e o f h i s predicament leads

him t o d i s g u i s e himsel f as a Canadian. Camouflaged thus, Henry passes

unnot iced t o F i c h i l imackinac.

A f t e r t h e massacre a t Mich i l imack inac , which he descr ibes w i t h t h e

same d r e a r shock w i t h which Hearne watched t h e s l a u g h t e r o f t h e Eskimos

b u t w i t h l e s s o f Hearne's nervous n e u t r a l i t y , Henry f i n d s sanc tuary w i t h

Wawatam and h i s f a m i l y . There, he i s i n a cu r ious p o s i t i o n . On t h e one

hand, he ho lds a recognized and sanct ioned p o s i t i o n i n t h e I n d i a n community

as Wawatam's adopted b ro the r . On the o t h e r hand, b lawatam~himsel f i s ' a

member o f a p r e v a i l i n g c u l t u r a l group which views t h e Engl i s h w i t h deadly

h o s t i l i t y and ingen ious enmity . Paradox ica l l y , Henry's chances f o r

s u r v i v a l r e s t w i t h h i s a s s i m i l a t i o n i n t o t h i s h o s t i l e c u l t u r e which hates

h i s k ind .

Under these circumstances, b e i n g Eng l i sh i s such a l i a b i l i t y t h a t , -

Henry f i r s t poses as a Canadian and then, d u r l n g h i s c a p t i v i t y , as an

I n d i a n . But, however a p t h i s i m i t a t i o n s o f f o r e l g n manners, Henry i s

i r r e v o c a b l y Engl i shy and h i s impostures can never be concl us l ve . When some

months have passed a f t e r t h e massacre, and Henry cont inues w i t h Wawatam,

he becomes p a r t i a l l y accustomed t o h i s s i t u a t i o n :

By degrees, I became f a m i l i a r i z e d w i t h t h i s k i n d o f 1 i f e ; and had '

i t n o t been f o r t h e i dea o f which I cou ld n o t d i v e s t my mind, t h a t I was l i v i n g among savages, and f o r t he whispers o f a 1 i n g e r i n g hope, t h a t I shou ld one day be re leased frotn i t -- o r i f I c o u l d have fo rgo t ten t h a t I had ever been o therwise than as I then was -- I cou ld have enjoyed as much happiness i n t h i s , as i n any o t h e r s i t u a t i o n (p. 132). V

As Henry becomes acquainted w i t h I t s p a r t i c u l a r s , t h e s e t t i n g becomes l e s s '

f o r e i g n . Once he i s s e t t l e d i n t o v i l l a g e 1 i f e , t h e dramat ic q u a l i t i e s o f

t he n a r r a t i v e o f t h e massacre and h i s rescue subside, 1 e ~ v i n g h im w i t h

l e i s u r e fo r e x p a t i a t i o n on I n d i a n s o c i a l and economic l i f e . But t he

e x p o s i t i o n i t s e l f t e s t i f i e s t o Henry 's a1 i e n s t a t u s : even w h i l e i n v o l v e d

i n t he a c t i v i t i e s o f Wawatamts fam i l y , he i s a spec ta to r , detached and

observant, unable t o f o r g e t t h a t he has been "otherwise" even when h t s

we1 1 -being seems t o rest, w i t h t h a t f o r g e t f u l ness. Henry 's r e s e r v a t i o n s

c h e r i s h t h e dangerous c o n d i t i o n o f be ing Eng l i sh here. I n h i s detachment

and rese rve he a n t i c i p a t e s h i s r e t u r n t o h i s former s ta tus , f o r he must soon

be on h i s way.

Un17ike the o t h e r t h r e e n a r r a t i v e s considered i n t h i s chapter , Henry 's

has no cata logues appended t o i t . 4 However, h i s t e x t i s r i c h i n i n f o r m a t i o n a l

con ten t and expos i t i on . "Trave ls " h o l d equal p lace w i t h "adventuresu i n

.h is t i t l e , and h i s n a r r a t i v e accommodates conc ise b u t impor tz r i t excurses.

Whi le he i s w i t h Wawatam, i n f o r m a t i o n I s organized on t h e bas i s o f t h e

f a m i l y ' s annual a c t i v i ti es : what Henry experienced d u r i n g h i s year o f

c a p t i v i t y i s genera l i zed as t y p i c a l 'and augmented b y h i s i n q u i r i e s o f

h i s hos ts and by subsequent expegience, A f t e r h i s depar tu re from Wawtamls

custody i n June 1764, Henry es,tabl lshes a d i v i s i o n i n h i s t e x t , announcing

153

" P a r t t h e Second" t o c o n t a i n h i s p o s t - c a p t i v i t y exper4ence. H i s n a r r a t i v e

assumes a seasonal s t r u c t u r e , chapters f r e q u e n t l y cent red on t h e

accomodat ions and p r o v i s i o n i n g arranged f o r each w i n t e r . D e s c r i p t i o n i s

-"g o f t e n summary, w i t h c e r t a i n s a l i e n t episodes rendered i n g rea te r d e t a i l . However, when i n 1776 he begins h i s e x p e d i t i o n i n t o t h e western p l a i n s

I .

> -- "a se r ious journey. . . t o g r a t i f y my c u r i o s i t y I t -- t h e yea r g ives way t o

the day as the p r i n c i p a l temporal u n i t o f t he n a r r a t i v e , and t h e general - .

s tatement g ives way t o t h e p a r t i c u l a r as t h e c h i e f e x p o s i t o r y v e h i c l e . I n

r e c o g n i t i o n o f t h e p r o f u n d i t y o f h i s venture and the importance o f t h e

i n f o r m a t i o n he acqui red, Henry's reco rd becomes a lmost d i u r n a l , and much

c l o s e r t o log-keeping. He w r i t e s e x t e n s i v e l y o f t h e Ass in ibo ins t o whom

he i s a t tached -- i m p a r t i n g data acqu i red bo th from f i r s t h a n d obse rva t i on

and f rom i n q u i r y -- b u t t h e most a r r e s t i n g m a t e r i a l i n t h i s s e c t i o n comes

from h i s o r i g i n a l view o f t h e p l a i n s : "a cont inuous l e v e l , w i t h o u t a s i n g l e

eminence; a f ro2en sea, o f which t h e 1 i t t l e coppices were the i s l a n d s . That,

behind which we had camped t h e n i g h t before, soon sunk i n t h e hor izon;

and t h e eye had n o t h i n g l e f t , save o n l y t h e sky and snow" (p. 277). I n h

9

t he t r a v e r s a l o f t h i s emptiness, t h e g r e a t e s t t h r e a t which looms i s t h e

danger o f submersion i n t he v a c u i t y : t h e few sanctuar ies f o r e i t h e r eye

o r body a r e d i s c o n c e r t i n g l y ra re , and the d r i f t i n g snows a r e devious and

consuming. I n t h e n a r r a t i v e i t s e l f , t h e r e i s an impress ive c o n t r a s t

between t h e e labo ra te e x p o s i t i o n r e q u i r e d t o render t h e customs and conduct ;$ -

/ o f t h e indigenous popu la t i on and t h e spare d e s c r i p t t o n demanded by t h e )

b lank surroundings th rough which they pass.

Henry's t e x t , l i k e Hearne's and Carver 's , was pub l ished some years

a f t e r t h e events i t descr ibed. The i n t e r v a l between event and p u b l i c a t i o n

had, f o r each w r i t e r , a d i f f e r e n t e f f e c t . I n Carver 's work, i t l e d t o t h e

summarizing o f t h e journey i t s e l f and t o the huge append icu la r e x p a t i a t i o n .

ail^ advance (whlch i n Carver 's manuscr ipt j o u r n a l s i s m i n u t e l y recorded) *

i s subordinate t o e x p o s i t i o n and d e s c r i p t i o n even i n t h e nzprrat ive s q t i o n

o f h i s t e x t . Hearne's journey, on t h e o t h e r hand., stands c e n t r a l l y i n h i s .

t e x t as a seminal p r i n c i p l e w i t h i n twenty years o f res idence. Post- journey

composi t ion c a r r i e s t h e t e x t f rom mere log-keeping by i n c o r p o r a t i n g a s s o c i a t i v e

m a t e r i a l i n t o t h e i t i n e r a r y . Henry 's methods stand between those o f Carver

and Hearne. He abandons d i u r n a l n o t a t i o n where events subs ide i n t o r e g u l a r i t y ,

b u t takes i t up again where sequence must supersede exposi. t ion i n t he

i n t e r e s t s o f dramat ic c l a r i t y . Three such occasions a r e conspicuous i n

h i s tex t - : h i s i n i t i a l embarkat ion i n t o these h o s t i l e reg ions ; h i s adventures * d u r i n g and immediate ly subsequent t o the b?ichil. imackinac massacre; h i s

e x p e d i t i o n i n t o the p l a i n s . When he s e l e c t s n a r r a t i v e over e x p o s i t o r y means

he expresses t h e dramat ic consequence o f j ou rney ing where the ex i s tence

o f t h e journey-maker h imse l f i s a t s take. Then, t h e s i t u a t i o n i s bes t

rendered by a s e r i a l reco rd o f da te and p lace. For example, when he se ts

o u t f rom Beaver ~ a k e , h e a d i n g e f o r t h e p l a i n s , he and h i s European and Canadian

companions face the hardsh ip o f severe weather and s h o r t p r o v i s i o n s :

On the t w e n t y - f i r s t i t blew hard, and snow began' t o f a l l . The storm cont inued t i 1 1 t h e twen ty - f i f t h , by whlch t ime t h e smal l l a k e s were frozen over , and two fee t o f snow , l a y on 1 eve1 ground, i n t h e woods. This e a r l y s e v e r i t y o f t h e season f i l l e d us w i t h se r ious a1 arms ; fqr t he c o u n t r y was un inhab i ted fo r two hundred m i l e s on every s i d e o f us, and if deta tned by wtn ter , o u r d e s t r u c t i o n was c e r t a i n . I n t h i s s t a t e o f p e r i l , we cont inued ou r voyage day and n i g h t . The fears o f ou r men were a s u f f i c i e n t mo t i ve f o r t h e i r e x e r t i o n s f p. 253).

A t t h i s c r i s i s , q u a n t i f i a b l e da ta o f p lace (ZOO m i l e s from .any sanctuary)

and t ime (September 21, 1776) c o n s t r u c t t h e dramat ic s i t u a t i o n . Two f e e t

o f September snow i n a deso la te r e g i o n o f t h e Northwest s i g n i f y t he n e a r l y

f a t a l i s o l a t i o n o f t h e t r a v e l l e r s and the urgency o f t h e i r onward e f fo r t s .

Henry, 1 i k e Hearne, has 1 i t t l e o f ca&er ts my tho log i z ing p r o p e n s i t i e s .

His account o f t h e K i c h i l imackinac massacre spares no' 1 u r i d d e t a i l s o f

t he a t t a c k e r s ' f e r o c i t y b u t i t holds t o events w i t h o u t r e f 1 e c t i ve wonderment.

I n hi-s economic ventures -- i n bo th t r a d i n g and p rospec t i ng -- Henry f i n d s -

l i t t l e t o amaze h i s readers i n t h e way o f p romis ing r i c h e s and he doesn ' t I

compensate fo r t h e de f i c i ency by specu la t i ng on what rky l i e j u s t beyond h i s

rou te , as Carver does. What he a c t u a l l y d iscovers makes a s u f f i c i e n t t e x t ,

r e q u i r i n g o n l y 1 i m i t e d e x p a t i a t i o n t o s e t i t be fo re h i s audience.

I n Harmon's j o u r n a l s , too, we f i n d none o f Carve r ' s i nven t i veness .

Harmon's uned i ted w r i t i n g s from Canada a re p n innocent case, and one

exemplary f o r i t s demonstrat ion o f the r h e t o r i c a l premise o f t r a v e l w r i t i n g .

When the j o u r n a l s were pub l i shed i n 1820 they had been e d i t e d and r e - w r i t t e n

by t h e Rev. Daniel Haskel, a Vermont neighbour o f Harmon's fami ly . Haskel ' s

work on t h e j ou rna l s appears t o have served two purposes: f i r s t , t o smooth -

o u t grammatical c r u d i t i e s and s y n t a c t i c a l i d i osync rasy , and, second, t o

moul d t h e j ou rna l s t o t h e convent iona l form ' o f t r a v e l n a r r a t i v e by developing

, general i zed , e x p a t i a t i v e c o n t e n t rega rd ing the I n d i a n c u l t u r e s w i t h which

Harmon was acquainted. I n t h i s d iscuss ion , I w i l l r e f e r n o t t o Haskel ' s

e d i t i o n b u t t o M. Kaye Lamb's .I957 e d i t i o n of t he o r i g i n a l j ou rna l s . 9

For e n t r i e s from A p r i l 1816 t o August 1519 -- the conc lus ion o f t h e t e x t -- and fo r t h e append icu la r m a t e r i a l t r e a t i n g Indtans e a s t and west o f t h e

Rockies, and animals i n nor thwestern Nor th America, Lamb r e v e r t s t o the 1820

e d i t i o n , i n l i e u o f o r i g i n a l manuscr ip t m a t e r i a l ,

6' \ Re . Haskel 's i n f l u e n c e on HaFmonts career shou ld =suggest t h a t Harmon

l e a r n e o n l y a f t e r t h e f a c t t h a t h k experience was m a t t e r worthy o f an

i a u d i e w e . From t h e s t a r t o f h i s journeys, Harmon's l i t e r a r y a c t i v i t y

served a s p e c i f i c r h e t o r i c a l purpose: he wrote i n o r d e r t o m a i n t a i n h i s

i n c r e a s i n g l y a t tenua ted connect ion w i t h h i s hbme? he addressed h i s f a m i l y and

f r i e n d s and t h e s o c i e t y he had departed. H is was n o t a p r i v a t e j ou rna l , b u t

m e in tended t o be read by o t h e r s . I n A p r i l 181 6 he exper ienced an i n t e n s i f i - - ..

c a t i o n of t he homesickness which had plagued him throughout h i s s i x teen -yea r

absence. He cou ld n o t ge t home h imse l f , b u t two a1 t e r n a t i v e s o l u t i o n s were

a v a i l a b l e t o him a t t h i s c r i s i s o f f e e l i n g : he cou ld w ? i t e t o h i s "Fr iends

below" and, most impor tan t , he coul d send them h i s ; journal :

. . .a few Days hence I s h a l l w r i t e my Fr iends below -- and knowing as I do t h a t t h e r e i s l i t t l e except disappointments & Death c e r t j i i n i n t h i s World o f Disappointments and sorrows,, I t h e r e f o r e am reso l ved t o fo rward t o them, by my Fr iend M r . John S t u a r t , a copy o f t h i s Journal , i n o r d e r t h a t they ( i n case I never have the i n - exp ress ib le p leasure and g r a t i f i c a t i o n o f seeing them myse l f ) may know the s a t i s f a c t i o n I presume i t w i l l prove t o them o f knowing how t h e i r l o n g absent R e l a t i o n has b n employed bo th as t o Body- & t f jnd w h i l e i n t h i s Savage Country. ? 8

The j o u r n a l goes i n Harmon's s tead. I n t h e subsequent t h ree years o f

absence, e n t r i e s -in t h e j ou rna l a re much b r i e f e r and f a r l e s s r e g u l a r t h m

i n the prev ious s i x t e e n years, suggest ing t h a t t h e burden o f expression

had been removed, now t h a t Harmon cou ld know h i s document r e s t e d a t home.

- , As we can see from t h e quoted passage, t h e o f f i c e of t he j ou rna l i s

l a r g e : i t must c o m u n i c a t e n o t o n l y the w r i t e r ' s s t a t e o f mind b u t a l s o

the phys i ca l d e t a i l s o f ex i s tence i n a r e g i o n e n t i r e l y un fami l t a r t o h i s

readers. Noth ing can be l e f t t o be imp1 i c i t , o r understood; e v e r y t h i n g p u s t be . . spe l l ed -ou t , When Harmon i s i n res idence a t any o f t h e numerous Nor th West

Company f a c t o r i e s he occupied d u r i n g the s i x t e e n years, t h e r e c o r d i s o f t e n

- - - *

episodic, t rea t ing only sa l i en t events. B u t when h-e s e t s out in to new 7:

L 5- *

2 t e r r i t o r y each journey i s recorded in de ta i l , to inform his reader of the r -

uncomn changes effected by the transportation and relocation. Once he has . - .

crossed the Rockies, he i s par t icu lar ly consistent i n his regular reporting, *

aware tha t he has entered into t e r r i t o r i e s largely unheard-of. Although he

occasionally exaggerates distances in the Peace River area and i n New

~aledonia ," his exaggerations a re innocent. Fal-,ification o r invention

could only obstruct his purpose of communicating the precise nature of his

l i ,fe in th i s "Savage Country,"

I n the ear ly journal en t r ies which record h is progress from Ptontreal

t o La Chine and beyond, Harmon repeatedly expresses his apprehension a t

t h e dras t ic r isks incurred by the kind of enterprise . Along the way, he

reckons the number o f crosses erected t o commemorate e a r l i e r d isas te rs on the

route, a n d he i s dismayed a t the sum:

. . . a t a l m s t every Rapid tha t we have passed since we l e f t Montreal, we have seen a number o f Crosses erected, and a t one I counted no 1 ess than t h i r t y ! I t i s t r u l y melancholy and discouraging when I seriously r e f l e c t on the great number of my fellow creatures who have been brought t o untimely ends by voyaging u p t h i s way, and ye t not- withstanding such dismal spectacles which are almost constantly before our eyes, we with a11 the eagerness of youth press forward to fo1 low the same route , and a1 1 in hopes of gaining a l i t t l e Gold! ( p . 1 7 ) .

Harmon soon becomes 1 ess timorous. By the time he reaches New Caledonia,

physical dangers hold 1 i ttf e th rea t compared t o the greater , psychological 3

b z a r d s in extraordinary is01 at ion and awesome lone1 iness, -. 3 +"

i l a m n ' s Chr i s t i an piety was one defense against the alrenation -he 4 - 3

Px5eril%ce$, a n d i tcowFsa-dorrt7Rant~sufjject fnhts-$otlrnat: f n s o f a r a s - 3

$

*

the d2votional m e d i t a t i o n s he incl udes in hf s journal are a 1 i t e r a r y B -I

3c:fvity, h f s religfous sens ib f l f ty takes on a rhetorical functfon i n 4 j I 4

s t r u ~ t u r i n g his impressions of k h e northwestern wilderness. Other

travel 1 ers are rerni nded of divine design when they w i tness natural spectacl es ;

Harmon fee ls none of this. - He 7s moved to metaphysical speculation when

he considers the heathen circurnstances'in which he l ives . On Sundays a t

Fort Alexandria the Canadians play cards, dance and otherwise carry on;

when Harmon speaks to ?hem about t h e i r "improper conduct," they reply tha t

"there i s no Sabbath i n t h i s Country" ( p , 3 7 ) . Yet there i s a Sabbath -- 4 -

recorded and registered in Hamon's journal. Only the journal remark

holds the f o r t against profanity and barbarity, and the journal 's pious

notations become increasingly important as Harmon advances fur ther in to I

savage regions. 2

t!armonls cul tural i so la t ion a t f i r s t seems most pronounced , in i t s

aspqct of 1 inguis t ic a1 ienat ion, for he generally travel 1 ed and worked

only w i t h foreign lartiuage-speakers, and the occasional companionship. of

English-speakers was welcome. A t Fort Alexandria, on October 28, 1800, he

writes :

Y r . %Lead &c. returned from Fort Dauphin, and whom a f t e r so long a separation I am happy t o see , and he appears pleased to find me .

J here. Since he l e f t me a t the Encampment Island I have had no one w i t h me who could speak -English and I cannot as ye t understand much of the French Language ( p . 3 7 ) .

However, even when Harmon acquires f a c i l i t y i n French, he. contirues to feel - his social i so la t ion . In 1803, r e f l ec t fng on the assignment of a valued

cohort to another factory, he writes t h a t , during the season of t h e i r ,

separation, "I shaTl as i t were.. .be l e f t alone, for the ignorant * ~ ~ n a d i a n s a

make very i n d i f f e r e n t Companions, a'nd-with whom f c a n o t asmeidten fp. 67) .

Flight u p t o the l a s t days recorded in the manuscript journal , Ha,mn hungers

for conversation with kindred minds . He undertakes di f f icu l t journeys . - G

%

merely to spend a few,days i n ta1 k w i t h factors a t neighbouring- ins ta l la t ions

of the Company; he eagerly welcomes guests to the posts a t which he i s . r r p - stat ioned, and he regre ts t h e i r departures, "Happy a r e those who have a . Friend with whom they can converse-!" (p. 16J) he excl q

the so l i tude which befa l l s h i m Ahen his inter locutors r'

Increasingly, as Harmon's sojourn in the wtlderness i s prplonged, ta lk

and f a i th complement one another.' From the evidence of t h e journals, i t

appears t h a t much of the exchange between Harmon and the other English- '\

speaking a1 iens posted i n t h i s yemote region centred on re1 igious topics:

In the absence of conversational f y congen.ia1 associates , he turned to three 4 , .

sources of consolation, a l l of them 1 i te rary : he wrote l e t t e r s , he continued

h i s i nveterat'e B i bl e-readi ng , a d h e pursued his journal -writing w i t h greater

and greater devotional in tens i ty . On September 1 , 1813, the f i r s t prayers

appear i n h is journal, reverent meditations comppsed a t a time of ext;ene . -

so l i tude : "I am l e f t e n t i r e l y alone, riot a soul in the Fort except myself" .-

( p . 161 ) Harmon's feelings of social and cul tural ,a1 ieti'ation i n the wilder-

ness develop into a more general expression of the i so la t ion of the devout P

Christian i n t h i s profane world during his ear thly ex i l e from his heavenly

how. In his journals, Hamnon's f a i t h becomes a' f igurehof his loneliness and \ /

s -

homesickness. His social disorientat ion in t h i s f a r countryr i s reckoned in

terms of sp i r i tua l disquiet and res t lessness , obliquely associated wish ideas

of sinful t r a f f i c with unchristian principles in a heathen %. l a n d .

Harmon's family he1 d firm Christian convictions, Lanb, i n h is introduction

,to the journals, suggests t h a t Hamon's convictions were not equlyalent In , .

ln tens i ty -- unt i l the l a t e r stages of h t s tenure a6road. Then his f a i t h

became a v i t a l connect ion w i t h t h e s o c i e t y frm which he had been separated. 4

A l l a long, he rece lved l e t t e r s f rom home w i t h rap turous pleasure; even when

' they conta ined sad news, he was profoundly moved by $hese few communications

from h i s p o i n t o f o r i g i n . "How soften have I thanked t h e I n v e n t e r of L e t t e r s ,

which enables us t o keep up as i t were a conversat ion ( w h l l e a t such an

immense d i s tance ) w i t h those whom I ho ld dear above any th ing i n t h i s f l e e t i n g

and vexat ious World," (p. 124) he declares from t h e conversat iona l ' dese r t

o f ~ t h a b a s c a . When he lea rns o f t he deaths of two o f h i s b ro the rs , he

remembers one, espec ia l1 y, f o r h i s correspondence : "Dur i ng t h e who1 e p e r i o d . ..

o f r r iyres idence i n t h i s co;ntry, he has w r i t t e n t o me ann9ually, l o n g

a f fec t i ona te , and i n s t r u c t i v e l e t t e r s . For a number o f years past , r e l i g i o n

was the g rea t s u b j e c t o f them" (p, 187). As Harmon's f a f t h grew, he found a L

broader, c l e a r e r pa th o f communication w i t h h i s fami ly . H i s adopt ion o f

s t r i c t e r views' i n re1 i g i o u s mat ters n o t b n l y d i s t i n g u i s h e d him p o s i t i v e l y from

." h i s a l i e n companions b u t a l s o bound him more c l o s e l y t o h i s d i s t a n t home. 6

~ e t G h y s i c a 1 specu la t i on was s u b j e c t fo r h i s j ou rna ls a s w e l l as h i s l e t t e r s , 5

and i t recomnended him t o h i s audience as ha-ving n o t forsaken .h i s membership ?h

i n c i v i l i z e d s o c i e t y . - t

Despi te h i s f requent expression o f n e a r l y desperate 1 one1 iness and

homesickness, Harmon stayed on -- and on -- i n t h e wi lderness u n t i l 1821. \

i A1 though he o f en f e l t r e v u l s i o n 7 a t t h e cond i t i ons o f h i s l i f e e a n d impat ience

a t h i s l o n g tgnure i n "such a Savage Country wh&e the re I s 1 i t t l e t o be

1 e a r n t t h a t we cok l d wish t o know" (pp. '1 04-05), h e 1 i ngered there. And he 0

seems t o have learned th ings i n s p i t e of t h e u n d e s i r a b i l i t y o f t h e -

-4

i n fo rmat ion . H is l o n g appendices p rov ide data on t h e physiognomyl, d i e t ,

t ranspor ta t i on , domestic re1 a t i o n s h i ps and s o c i a l organization o f Ind ians

e a s t and west o f t h e Rockies -'- i n fo rma t ion which cou ld o n l y have been t h e 'a

p roduc t o f c o n i i s t e n t l y i n t e l l i gent observa t ion and i n t e r e s t . He expresses. 2-

small sympathy f ~ r t h e peoples who are the s u b j e c t o f h i s d iscourse, b u t ..

he honours t h e i r p r a c t i c e s and c h a r a c t e r i s t i c s w i t h method ica l documentation, C

r e p o r t i n g nonetheless even when t h e r e i s "1 i t f l e t o be l e a r n t t h a t we eould

w ish t o know." Harmon does n o t l o v e t h i s p lace , 'bu t from i t s unlovable, '&

i n h o s p i t a b l e countenante he draws the i n s p i r a t i o n f o r h i s 1 i t e r a r y

composi t ion. v ~

The p a t t e r n which i s e s p e c i a l l y c l e a r i n Harmon's caree'r i s one which

i s e v i d e n t t o some degree i n - - t h e 'careers . o ~ ' . e v e n t h e most foo t loose agd . i

.sanguine t r a v e l l e r s : Harmon i s d e s t i n i d fo r remote exper ience b u t he never

submits t o i t. From t h e c o n t e s t between h i s a1 i e n d e s t i n a t i o n and h i s homing ?

tendencies comes h i s 1 i t e r a r y work -- h i s long, sys temat ic r e p r e s e n t a t i o n of

t h e aspects o f h i s l i f e abroad. Wi thout t h i s p e r s i s t e n t , o f t e n d o l e f u l , .

sometimes e x u l t a n t consciousness o f t h e -foreignness o f h i T s i t u a t i o n , t he

voyager can make no t r a v e l 1 e r l s t a l e .

Notes

Chapter 3

I am indebted to John ~ a r k e r l s excellent introduction to The Journals

of Jonathan Carver and Re1 ated Documents. 17.66-1 770 (Minnesota Historical

Society Press, 1976) fo r information on publications of the t ex t and

especial l y for information on the provenance- of Carver's Travel s . ~ a r k e r ' s

researche? supersede most o f the material contained in standard reference

works'; his arguments- a r e so au thor i ta t ive ly supparted t h a t I have abided by

' ' his speculations on the ,editorial influences i n the t ex t i n my discussion of

'_ borrowings i n Carver's appendic~s , 2' Jonathan Carver, Journal s , p . 143.

% Jonathan Carver, Travels through the I n t e r i o r Parts of North America

in the Years 1766,' 1767, and I768 (3rd ed. 1781 ; rpt. Minneapol i s , Minnesota :

Ross and Haines, 1956), pp . i - i i . Subsequent references a re to t h i s edi t ion.

- , The "Address" of the ' third edi t ion i s unpaginated. *.

, Like Carver, Hearne appears to have had some help from secondary sources

in cornpi-l ing these catalogues. Richard Glover's introduction to A' Journey

, from Prince of Wales's Fort i n Hudson's Bay to the North.wn Ocean, 1769-1770- i / F +

& 1771 -1 772 (Toronto': Pbcmill an, 1958) des t r i bes Hearne's indebtedness to .

I

Thomas Pennant's Arctic Zoolosy (1 784-85) in developing the l a s t sections of P

his book. Arctic ~ o o i b ~ ~ : writes Glover, gave Hearne "English names fo r

animals he had hi ther to known only hy Indian names; Phe sometimes borrows I t s

.. phrasing word for wbrd; sometimes again he corrects i t " (p. xxxix).

Subsequent references t o Hearne's narrat ive a re to Glover's ed i t ion . 162

I n January 1776. Hearne took cornmand o f Pr ince o f Wales I s F o r t and - \->

remained the re u n t i l t h e French took possession o f and destroyed t h e f o r t

i n August 1782, whereupon Hearne re tu rned t o London. I n 1783 he r e -

e s t a b l i s h e d the f o r t a t C h u r c h i l l , c o n t i n u i n g t h e r e u n t i l 1787 when he

r e t u r n e d t o England. Glover argues, from i n t e r n a l evidence and from

contemporary documents, t h a t Hearne d ra f ted t h e penu l t ima te chapter of

h i s book i n 1783, a t C h u r c h i l l , and the f i n a l chapter i n England, a f t e r h i s

r e t u r n i n 1787. See especi.al l y pp. x x x v i i i - x l . Glover ma in ta ins t h a t Hearne's observa t ions a r e n o t so f a u l t y as

some c r i t i c s a l l e g e d and t h a t , i n any case, h i s i naccu rac ies a r e v i n d i c a t e d

by h i s i m p e r f e c t equipment and technique.

8 Alexander Henry, Travels and Adventures i n Canada and t h e I n d i a n

T e r r i t o r i e s between t h e Years 1760 and 1776 (New York, 1809; r p t . Ann Arbor :

Univ. Mic ro f i lms, 1966), p . 23. Subsequent re fe rences a r e t o t h i s e d i t i o n

and w i l l appear i n the t e x t .

The j o u r n a l vs. pub l i shed t e x t i ssue d i f f e r s here f rom t h e j o u r n a l vs.

t e x t i ssue i n Carver 's work. Carver 's f i n a l manuscr ip t v e r s i o n of h i s Trave ls

i s n o t ex tan t ; Harmon's j o u r n a l s , on the o t h e r hand, were h i s f i n a l w r i t t e n

v e r s i o n o f h i s adventures. ,. lo Daniel Harmon, S ix teen years i n t h e I n d i a n Country: The Journal o f

DanieT W i T l iams Harmon 1800-1816 (Toronto: Nacmi l lan, l 9 5 7 ) , p. 185,

Subsequent references a r e t o t h i s edf t t a n and w i l l Vpear i n t h e t e x t .

La& mttes these occasions edi tcr lo l l y.

Chapter 4

Patterns of Travel in Canadian !driting:

F r a n ~ e ~ Brooke, Anna Jameson, Thoma? Haliburt'on and John R

There are travel wr i te rs , and wri ters whc travel . For the former,

t h e i r a r t prompts t h e i r journey. Bartram and Thoreau c lear ly exempl i fy

t h i s phenomenon: Bartram's five-year journey was a mode of being,. and

h is record of i t was a mde of knowing; Thoreau's excursions were under-

taken in the in t e res t s of the utterance which would r e s u l t . For both,

travel offered whole and proper work fo r the l i t e r a r y imagination. In

these cases, experience and genre e x i s t i n a unique symbiosis.

B u t f o r the others -- fo r the writers who take a t r i p -- the experi-

ence of the journey and the principles of travel writ ing can enter and

control t he i r a r t even within the conventional s t ructures of another

genre. This was the case with Frances Brooke, whose History - of Emily

Montague (1769) i s - general 1y designated as the f i r s t North American novel.

Mrs. Brooke pub7 i shed sentimental f i c t ion before she accompanied her

husband ( a chaplain and o f f i c i a l in the service o f the new colonial regime)

ro qu6bec i n 1763, and she continued i n tha t vein a f t e r her return to

;nSland . I n 1769. Emily Mntague, in i t s f i c t iona l aspects, i s i n keeping

f I& ttr i t s a u t h o r ' s ear t ier and subsequent e f f o r t s . However, when James

a n d 2 u t h i a i m n come to assign Emily Montague i t s h is tor ica l s t a t ion in 7- '

>rle Literary History of Canada, they end by asking, " I s i t a novel only, - -

s r - l g h f i t be classed a1w with description and travel l i t e r a tu re?" '

166

The question i s ap t , because the book i s overtly a product of Mrs. Brooke's .

1763-1 769 sojourn in QuGbec, and QuGbec provides much more than an exotic

se t t ing f o r the a c t i v i t i e s of her characters. I t i s subject , as well, and

much of the book i s devoted t o comparative social observations, landscape

deseription and exposition of the local organization of industry and gov-

ernment. Quibec in the eighteenth century was a s tory in i t s e l f , and

- demanded a s t r i c t and thorough t e l l i ng . The case of Emily Montague is an

important one, because i t demonstrates the way in which North America en-

tered the mainstream of English l i t e ra tu re . Even where the wri ter observes

novel is t ic conventions -- as Mrs. Brooke does in Emily Montague -- the

narrat ive principles of the travel genre dominate the f i c t ion . Frances

Brooke's journey t o the New Worl d o generated a par t icu lar kind of 1 i terary

discourse i n which Canada i s depicted as a re%te and exot ic interlude in

the normal course of things.

Mrs. Brooke wrote in response t o the curiosi t y ~ u r o p e a n s f e l t about 4

the New World. The f i c t i v e components of the t ex t addressed some other

forms of cur ios i ty , mainly sentimental, but the prominence of i t s informa-

t ional content i s a t t e s t ed t o by a t l e a s t one

twenty-three years a f t e r Mrs. Brooke's

Qugbec, and confirmed the factual authentic3 ty of Emi ly Montague. She

wrote, i n 1792: "The woods are beautiful and we went near to Sel lery,

t ha t pret ty vale ~miTy Montague describes, indeed her account o f Qugbec

appears t o me very m a r tke t ru th . 1 1 2 Mrs. Simcoe read €mi l y Montague

f o r i t s 1 i teral a t t r i b u t e s , and fo r i t s representation of a ver i f iab le a

r ea l i ty ; i n t h i s , she read i t a s a travel book ra ther than as a romance.

In many ways, the documentary properties of the book are i t s most in te res t -

ing an( i enduring aspects, fo r an important par t of Mrs. Brooke's l i t e r a r y -

intention was concerned with cohstructing an account of l i f e in the New

World.

In s t ruc ture as well as in content, Emily Montague i s shaped by the

t rad i t ions of travel writ ing: i t s epist.01ary form, while following a

popular trend' in the e i ghteenth-century sentimental novel, a l so sub-

scr ibes to the conventions of travel memoir. Each l e t t e r i s the composi-

t ion of a t r ave l l e r , addressed t o members of the society from which the

wri ter has been separated. As a r e su l t , the f ive l e t t e r -wr i t e r s i n the

book m u s t describe, inform and explain; they attempt to reconstruct i n

the de ta i l the character of the d i s t an t place in which they find themselves.

The data offered are not f ic t iona l b u t fac tua l , and, taken together, the Q

l e t t e r s present a comprehensive rather than se l ec t i ye version of Qugbec.

Emily Montague i s an example of the kind of prose narrat ive produced by

a wri t e r ' s experience abroad, where audience and subject a re ' separated

by a gulf of unfamiliarity tha t can be bridge2 only by thorough exposition.

The novel ' s f ive principal characters and le t ter-wri t e r s -- two pairs

of lovers and the fa ther of one of the lovers -- a re , as t h e i r author was,

only sojourners in Canada. The four lovers engage i n predictable romantic

manoeuvres, and resolve contrived conf l ic t s which give the Canadian interval

of t h e i r l ives the aspect of a pleasure party, o r a holiday in a locale

charged with romantic suggestiveness. Their t rans ien t s t a tus iden t i f i e s

them as outs iders , and, besides picnics and gal lantry, t h e i r chief occupa-

t ion i s t h e i r le t te r -wr i t ing to t h e i r friends a t home. In Qugbec, they

have no permanent, long-term connection with the local comunity, and one

o f the motives behind the i r adhesive relationships to one another i s t h e i r

shared recognition o f a t h e i r commo~ detachment from t h e i r social environ-

ment. Generally, they a r e c r i t i c a l and patronizing of French-Canadian

society, although they indu1g.e t h e i r l ive ly i n t e r e s t in f e s t i v i t y a t i t s

expense. ~ r a b e l la' Fermor, the most vivacious and inspired of the l e t t e r -

. writers , disparages the intel l igence, s ens i t iv i ty , imagination and 1 i t - 3 eracy of col oni a1 women :

they have no idea of walkirig in the country, nor the l e a s t feel ing of the lovely scene around them; there a r e many . of them who never saw the f a l l s of Montmorenci, though l i t t l e more than an hour 's drive from the town. They seem born without the smallest portion o f cur ios i ty , o r any

, ideas of the pleasures of the imagination. . . . There a re two ladies in the province, I am t

read; but both of them a re above f i f t y , and they a re re- garded as prodigies of erudition .4

The four lovers, in contrast , arei exceptionally "sensi t ive to natural

spectacles, and they frequently picnic i n the open a i r o r contemplate '

natural magnificence. - And they a re f a r from i 11 i t e r a t e : every sentiment

and occasion i s f u l l y a r t icu la ted i n epis tolary prose.

This perpetual stream of prose makes up f o r the wri ters ' - l ack of

sympathetic social connection in Qugbec. The l e t t e r s serve the important

social purpose of maintaining relationships w i t h respondents who share

the w i t e r s ' assumptions of t a s t e afid. cu l ture , and who .can supply the

"curiosi ty: and "imagination" lacking in the local population. In draw-

i n g upon t h i s home-resource of sympathy and shared

wri t e r s express cer tain conventional a t t i tudes. The

ideas, the l e t t e r -

for instance, describes North America i n terms calcu

hero of Emily Montague,

la ted t o s a t i s f y his

correspondent's romantic expectations of wi 1 derness t rave l . Co1 one1

River 's f i r s t l e t t e r from t h e New World, addressed t o his s i s t e r , includes

a devotional appreciation of the idea of wilderness: "On approaching the

coast of America, I f e l t a k i n d of re1 igious veneration, on seeing rocks

which almost touch'd the clouds, cover'd with t a l l groves of pines t h a t

seemed coeval w i t h the world i t s e l f : to which veneration the solemn

silence not a l i t t l e contributed. . . ." (p. 19) America i s a set-pie-ce,

arousing a c lus t e r of abstract ions. ~ Rivers i s aware,. fu r the r , t h a t the

a r t i c u l a t e travel l e r may discharge other descr ipt ive dut ies: " i f I chose

to give you the pol i t ica l s t a t e of the country, I could f i l l volumes with

the pours and the contres; b u t I am not one of thosa sagacious observers,

who, by staying fo r a week in a place, think themselves qual i f ied to give,

not only i t s natural, b u t i t s moral and pol i t ica l history: besides which, /--

you and I a r e ra ther too ypung to be very profound pol i t ic ians" (pp. 19-20).

Mrs. Brooke assigns the ro le of socio-pol i t i ca l commentator, which Rivers

declines, t o William Fermor, Arabella 's fa ther .

Arabella i s , as well as the most insightful narrator of human ,a f fa i r s ,

the most dedicated reporter of scenery -- Emily Montague tierself i s too T- preoccupied with important decisions of the heart t o take i n t e r e s t in the

natural environment. Arabella i s t ru ly transported by her v i s i t t o the *

f a l l s a t Montmorenci, and her description of t h e i r charms begins: "Paint

to yourself a stupendous rock burst as i t were in sunder by the hands of

nature, t o give passage t o a small but very deep and beautiful r iver . . . . " ( p . 3 6 ) She adds to the completed sketch, "In short, the loveliness o f

t h i s f a i ry scene alone more than pays the fatigues of my voyage. . . ." The recompense of travel i s i n t h i s kind of spectator ial enthu- ( P . 36)

s i asrn.

and emot

B u t

e.

The t o u r i s t p ro f i t s by an increment t o imagination, s ens ib i l i t y

ional resource.

Arabella i s not en t i re ly spontaneous i n her effusions and raptures.

As she is coquettish and manipulative i n her personal relat ionships, so

she has her eye on the main chance in her ardent percept.ions of nature. Ti

She must recomnend her adventure t o her reader and her ro le in narration 4 .+ 4

- 9 3 9'

l i e s with her ant ic ipat ion of her reader 's expectations. After descri b- 3

, ing autumn i n the New World, she wri tes" "You may expect a very well- f C 3 +j

painted frost-piece from me i n winier. . . . " (p. 50) Arabella 's tourism - f u l f i l s the desire to wri te as much as the desire t o see. Her notions of

b r

the Canadian winter a re pre-conceived within a par t icu lar 1 i t e rary model ; fi 5

la 2 the a r r iva l of winter i t s e l f only provides the occasion fo r expressing 4 B

generic ideas a1 ready present in tRe imagination.

For Rivers, too, the Canadian sojourn i s an exercise of the imagina- 7

t ion , and a stimulating release from the rather complicated material % 3

1 r e a l i t i e s of l i f e in England. In the f i r s t l e t t e r of the volume, writ ten : <

as he embarks, Rivers concedes t h a t h i s journey may be considered a "roman-

: ti;" project, and tha t he goes for th w i t h " a l l the eager. hopes of a warm

imagination" (p. 17). His idea of eventual settlement authorizes his

optimistic excursion, b u t settlement i s only a fantasy, conceived without * *

any reference to the a c t u a l i t i e s and hardships of relocation. Rivers P

eagerly imagines a pastoral idyl l f lourishing in the wilderness: "in thus

cu l t iva t ing what is the rudest s t a t e o f nature, I sha l l t a s t e one of the

grea tes t of a l l pleasures, t ha t of creat ion, and see order and beauty

gradual l y r i s e from chaos" (p. 17). As he seems t o approach the real i zar

t ion of h is fantasy, much-later in the novel, an$ as he t rave ls about

seeking an inspii-ing si-te, t h e p ic ture bmntes clearer-gnd more convert-

t iona l : " I fancy my own settlement advancing i n beauty: I paint t o myself

my Emily adorning those lovely shades: I see her, l i k e the mother of

P

mankind, admiring a new creation which smiles around her: we appsar, . t o *

my idea, 1 ike the f i r s t pair in paradise" ( p . p 2 ~ 5 ) . Mrs. Brooke i s c l ea r

on one point: t h i s i s a visionary s o r t of immigration, an idea expressing

admirable values and an appealing aes the t ic , b u t an idea only. The idyl l

will never be accomplished in Canada; the lovers must return t o England,

win t h e i r parents '

they can establ i sh

Nevertheless,

sanction and secure a c iv i l ized s o r t of income before

the domestic pastoral . ,

the experience abroad i s an integral par t of t h e i r

destinie's. In Canada, the design of t h e i r feel ings and future emerges

from the excitement of t rave l . Abroad, the lovers enjoy the f r ee education

of emotion and imagination -- sightseeing i t s e l f inv i tes the exercise o f

sentiment and the expression of moral a t t i t udes . Travel i s a narrat ive

context f o r cer tain mental operations: on the one hand, the t o u r i s t re-

sponds emotionally t o the romantic suggestiveness of the foreign place,

and, on the other- hand, he rat ional i zes an3 orders the extraordinary

elements of his exot ic experience.

paral le l levels of verbal a c t i v i t y

lovers ' choices and the de f in i t ive

New World.

From these two processes a r i s e the

in Emily Montague.: the l f ic t ion of the

documentation of the character of the

In Emily Montague, Que'bec i s an other-world a s remote and exotic as

the Polynesian island on which Melville sojourns in Typee, and i t s very

remoteness d ic ta tes the formali t ies of i t s l i t e r a r y presentation. The

exotic knolrrledge acquired by the t ravel l e r s i s complete m l y w i t h i t s

introduction into a' fami l i a r cul tural frame, and th i s - i s acccmplished hx

the descriptive 1 e t te rs -how , which re1 a t e the a1 ien , unheard-of apsects . r -

of the foreign venture within accustomed pa?terns. The- t r a v e l l e r estab-

l.irkel; tk c s k m e e a& mewrfrtg of frfs extraordinary experience by making

i t acceptable and i n t e l l i g i b l e t o his sedentary reader. In Emily Montague,

the paral le l verbal a c t i i i t y Of the f i c t ion of courtship and mating follows .? . the same necessary pattern: the lovers ' return t o England i s the consum-

mation of the i r new sentimental knwledge, f o r they must bring i t back

how, t o t h e i r point of or igin; t o discover i t s f u l l import. A t home, in

real l i f e , the traveT'lers app4y-the psycho4ogicat and aesthetic 4nformation

they acquired abroad. I f there i s ever any doubt about the inev i t ab i l i t y

o f t h e i r return and fanciful character of ideas of permanent s e t t l e - - - 7

ment, Mrs. Brooke d ispe l l s i t with Arabella 's effusive account of her re-

turn voyage down S t . Lawrence., The vessel stops a t the I s l e of Bic, and

~ r a b e l i a and other passengers a t t h i s "enchanted" locat ion. " I die 7

i l d a house on t h i s i s a pi ty such a sweet spot should be

I should be Queen of Bic, ( p . 240)"

w i t e s Arabel l a . Th is travel ,' a mental expefi- \

ment'wkich proposes mmentari l y tha t one s tay , t ha t one imagine oneself -=='a

always there, f iguring in the scene, Rivers and Arabel l a a r e susceptible

t o such invi tat ions from the landscape, and (he l a t t e r especial ly tends to

i nven t

'rl

about

social and scenic a r r a n g w n t s which ful f i 11 romantic fan tas ies .

i l f i a m F e m r , who i s too old and too experienced to be confused

the duration of. his residence in Canada, i s qui te aware of h is ro le

as a t raveller and provides a f rank statement of the aes the t ic of - t rave l . -

The pleasure' the mind finds in travel 1 ing, has un- doubtedly, my 1 ord, i ts source i n t h a t 1 ove of novel t y , t h a t del ight i n acquiring new ideas, uhich i s i n t e r& mven i n t t s v e r y frame, h i c h shows i t s e l f on every ,occasion from infancy to age , which i s the f i r s t pas- sion of the hman ni,nd, and the l a s t .

There i s n o t h i n g the mind o f man abhors so much as a s t a t e o f r e s t ; t he g r e a t s e c r e t of happiness i s t o keep the sou l i n c o n t i n u a l a c t i o n . . . . (p. 190)

"Passion, under t h e guidance o f v i r t ue , " he adds, i s t he sou l ' s "hea l th . I'

Passions are aroused i n Mrs. Brooke's characters by t h e i r mat r imon ia l

p ro jec ts , c e r t a i n l y , b u t t h i s e x c i tement i s i n some ways i n c i d e n t a l t o

the o v e r a l l design o f t h e t e x t . W r i t i n g comes about p r i m a r i l y f rom the

need t o communicate f e e l i ngs i n c u r r e d as a resu l t o f t r a v e l ; these fee l -

ings must be communicated t o absent f r i e n d s and thus i n t roduced i n t o the

m a t r i x o f l i f e a t home. The tumu l t o f emotions assoc ia ted w i t h c o u r t s h i p

i s o n l y one branch o f t h e c e n t r a l i dea o f the suggestiveness and romance

o f the f o r e i g n s e t t i n g .

The so jou rne rs ' minds a r e we l l -exerc ised, i n Fermor's sense, and

they f l o u r i s h emot iona l l y . But, as CrWecoeurls Russian t o u r i s t po in ted

o u t t o John Bartram, t r a v e l i n i t s e l f does n o t b e n e f i t t he mind undis-

t ingu ished by pe rc ip ience and discernment. When Rivers i s s t i l l contending

w i t h a handsome b u t i n s i p i d baronet f o r Emi l y ' s hand, he makes a journey

w i t h h i s r i v a l , and f i n d s h im want ing i n j u s t the q u a l i t i e s which would

g i ve him p r i o r i t y i n t h e compet i t ion :

I study my f e l l o w t r a v e l l e r c lose l y ; h i s charac ter , indeed, i s n o t d i f f i c u l t t o ascer ta in ; h i s f e e l i n g s a re d u l l , n o t h i n g makes t h e l e a s t impression on him; he i s as i n s e n s i b l e t o t h e charming count ry through which we have t r a v e l l e d as the very Canadian peasants themselves who i n h a b i t i t . I watched h i s eyes a t some o f t h e most b e a u t i f u l prospects, and saw n o t t h e l e a s t gleam o f p leasure there . . . . (p. 52)

Travel t e s t s mental and moral f a c u l t i e s , and the good t r a v e l 1 e r revea ls

h i s v i r t u e i n h i s g r e a t e r c a p a c i t y t o respond. The d u l l -eyed baronet,

on the o the r hand, passes heedless and thought less through the landscape,

a model o f i n s e n s i t i v i t y and i nd i f f e rence . R ivers emphasizes h i s negat ive

173

judgement of h i s companion's tourism by comparing i t t o the complacency

of res idents . For the t o u r i s t , the landscape is i n t e r e s t i n g and sugges-

t i v e ; f o r the indigenous observer i t i s nondescript and unprovocative.

In t h a t the baronet is ne i ther moved nor inspired, he may a s well have

stayed a t home. Travel i s more than the merely physical circumstance of

mobi 1 i t y .

A1 though the lovers eventually resign themselves t o s t a s i s , they

never succumb t o t he mv&ional i n e r t i a they despise in the baronet. Even

a f t e r they a r e permanently i n s t a l l ed on t h e i r English e s t a t e , they look

forward t o a fu tu r e of in tense and diverse fee l ings . T h i s perpetual

pract ice of the emotions is afl aes the t i c assumption of sentimental and

of Gothic f i c t i o n . B u t , as well , i t i s the motive of the a r t i c u l a t e t ravel-

l e r , who wi l l gain from his personal journey the whole r e g i s t e r of

feel i ngs .

William Fermor's l e t t e r s t o h i s a r i s t o c r a t i c correspondent contain

comparative and ana ly t i c material pertaining t o condit ions i n the colony.

As a t r a v e l l e r he enjoys the p r iv i l ege of pronouncement and generalization.

He expounds on t he l a s s i t ude of the Qugbecois, and on t h e i r agr icu l tu ra l

a c t i v i t i e s ; he recommends spec i f i c emigration po l i c i e s , and o f f e r s whole-

some advice t o the regime. He a l so takes advantage of h i s forum t o present

h i s philosophy of r e l i g ion , economics and socia l order . Like so many

other t r a v e l l e r s , Fermor and h i s author acquire a d i scurs ive , general

outlook on human a f f a i r s from t h e i r foreign vantage. In c rea t ing t h i s

mature, informed speaker, Mrs. Brooke rounds out the nar ra t ive of her

years abroad; h i s l e t t e r s a r e spec i f i c a l l y the ut terance of the t r a v e l l e r

(versus the vagrant ga l l an t o r maiden with an i n t e r e s t i n landscape) and

he serves Mrs. Brooke's documentary purpose i n much the same way tha t

the American farmer i n h i s expository mood serves Crevecoeur's. The

l e t t e r s of the o ther wr i te r s project o ther aspects of t r a v e l , pa r t i cu la r ly

those which arouse the imagination and which suggest idy l l and romance.

That i s not t o say tha tFermor i s insens i t ive o r unimaginative. He

is convinced t h a t the New World o f f e r s subs tan t ia l a e s the t i c material :

"a landscape pa in te r might here expand h i s imagination, and f ind ideas

which he will seek i n vain in our comparatively l i t t l e world" (p. 186).

A t the spring break-up of the r i v e r , he himself i s astonished and inspired

by the seasonal cataclysm, and composes a lengthy descr ipt ion. A t the

conclusion of the account he apologizes f o r the inadequacy of h i s attempt,

but j u s t i f i e s i t by describing i t as almost involuntary, and springing

from necessi ty: " I am a f r a id I have conveyed a very inadequate idea of

the scene which has just passed before me; i t however s t ruck me so strong-

l y , t h a t i t was impossible f o r me not t o attempt i t " ( p . 188). Having

witnessed t h i s natural rev01 ution and upheaval, he must wr i te about i t .

So a r e a l l the t r a v e l l e r s i n t h i s novel impelled t o a r t i cu l a t i on by the un-

usual character of t h e i r foreign experience. The flow of l e t t e r s across

the At lant ic connects the remote, is01 ated contingent t o the famil iar

world of home, bridging w i t h i t s fluency the remarkable separation. Once

a l l a r e comfortably s e t t l e d in England, the verbal current dwindles and

ceases; once the sca t te red characters have been gathered together from

t h e i r dispersement across the globe, the motive f o r communication dis-

appears. The rupture t h a t separated the t r a v e l l e r s from t h e i r home i s

f i n a l l y healed, and the t ravel s t o ry concluded. I

I I

Anna Brownel 1 Jameson's Winter Studies - and Summer Rambles fi Canada

( l838) , emerges from a l a t e r period when Canada, i n 1 i t e r a tu r e , was no

longer only romantically, f a n t a s t i c a l l y remote but a l s o a sub jec t re-

quiring real i s t i c representa t ions of ordinary 1 i fe . Emigration had changed

the aspect of North American t r a v e l , and re locat ion i n the Western Hemi.

sphere was, i f not a l ikel ihood, a t l e a s t a pos s ib i l i t y t o be enter ta ined

by thousands of Europeans i n the 1830's . Whether the reader was t o come

here o r not, h i s cu r io s i t y about the New World now included an i n t e r e s t

i n the par t i cu la r s of ge t t ing on i n the bush. Winter Studies and Summer

Rambles t r e a t s both the a c t u a l i t y and the romance of t ravel i n North

America; i t considers both the cheer less r e a l i t y of domestic l i f e in Toronto

and the idy l l of wilderness journeying. The t i t l e i t s e l f r e f l e c t s the

dua l i ty of concern, and introduces an essen t ia l tension r e l a t i ng t o the

very nature of t r ave l . In Winter Studies , separation from home leads t o

feel ings of a l i ena t ion and an acute s p i r i t u a l despair ; in Summer Rambles

novelty and unfamil iar i ty a r e romantic and s t imulat ing. Travel i s variously

enervating o r invigorat ing, and nar ra t ive method r e f l e c t s i t s changeable

influence on mind and a r t .

Anna Jameson brought w i t h her from England the experience of several

continental tours . She was a l ready a published t ravel wr i t e r when she

came to Toronto i n December 1836, andher nine months in Canada generated

more writ ing. She arr ived under i nde f in i t e condit ions, unsure of how

long she would have t o s t ay . For seven years she had lived--and f lour ish-

ed--apart from her husband: while Robert Jameson held a post as a colonial

administrator in the West Indies , Anna remained i n Europe, enjoying a

l i ve ly socia l l i f e i n London and making several extended excursions t o

~ e r m a n ~ . ' In Germany she was welcomed and embraced by the l i t e r a t i ,

ch ie f ly on the bas i s of her Charac te r i s t i cs of Women, a t r e a t i s e on

feminine characters i n Shakespeare. W i t h i n t e l l e c tua l German soc ie ty

sh.e f e l t a happy a f f i n i t y ; i n London her 1 i t e r a r y reputation prospered

with the posi t ive reception of Diary -- of an Ennuye'e (a sentimental , f i c -

t ional ized version of continental t ravel ) and Vis i t s and Sketches -- a t Home

and Abroad, and she f e l t increas ingly a t home i n l i t e r a r y c i r c l e s . Her -

husband's appointment t o t he posi t ion of Attorney-General of Upper Canada

i n 1833 had l i t t l e over t e f f e c t on h i s w i f e ' s career un t i l h i s inv i ta t ions

t o join h i m i n Toronto became more and more importunate. She eventually

acquiesced, a t 1 e a s t pa r t l y in the i n t e r e s t s of giving t h e i r re la t ionsh ip

a conventional i t y and respectabi 1 i t y which would correspond t o the digni ty

of Jameson's s t a t i o n i n the New World: i n 1837 he became Vice-Chancellor,

and, 'as such, chief legal o f f i c e r f o r Bri ta in i n Upper Canada. B u t Mrs.

Jameson's des i re t o c l a r i f y and resolve her marital s i t ua t i on must have

supplied an addit ional motive f o r her journey. This was accomplished

during her time i n North America, f o r , before she embarked from New York

in 1838, she and Jameson had negotiated a legal separation.

In Winter Studies - and Summer Rambles, Mrs. Jameson does not r e f e r

d i r ec t l y to these personal circumstances, b u t some of the feel ings of

loneliness and anxiety she describes i n Winter Studies must be a t t r i b u t -

able t o domestic s i t u a t i o n from which Anna Jameson's Canadian writ ings

emerge: her legal bond with Robert separated her from a cul ture-- in both

England and Germany--wi t h which she f e l t profound and s a t i s fy ing involve-

ment. In Europe, her l i t e r a r y a c t i v i t y brought her approval and reputa-

t ion; in Toronto, there was no echo of praise and sanction, and no l i t e r a r y

society to correspond to tha t which had embraced her a t home and in Germany.

Robert, with whom she had a ra ther vague and limp relat ionship, could sup-

ply none of these needs. His chief e f f e c t on her l i f e , a t t h i s point,

was to 'have cal led her out of a supportive, encouraging social milieu and

assigned her to a remote, semi-1 i t e r a t e cu1 ture where her 1 i terary s t a tus

was unacknowledged. As long as her feelings of estrangement from him were

unclarified lega l ly , and the degree of her commitment to h i m was indef in i te ,

Toronto was a s i t e of desolation and doom, and one which might claim her

permanently.

In the f i r s t entry.of Winter Studies, Anna Jameson describes Toronto

as " m s t strangely wan and mlancholy. "b Mrs. Jameson knows, however,

that she gives a tendentious report of t h i s " l i t t l e i l l - b u i l t to in on low

grotlnd," and tha t her own homesickness may intercept, r e a l i t y and del iver

a d i s tor ted version of the scene. " I will not be unjust i f I can help

i t , nor querulous," she wri tes . " I f I look into my own hear t , I f ind

that i t i s regret fo r what I have l e f t and lost-- the absent, not the pre-

sent--which throws over a l l around re a c h i l l , colder than tha t of the 1

wintry day--a gloom deeper than tha t of the wintry night" ( p . 17) . Mrs.

Jameson's re la t ion to her subject , in Winter Studies, i s a negative one,

created by her separation from her accustomed envi ronmnt, and co&ntary 3 corns about as a r e su l t of the "absent" rather than the "present."

-- -

Necessarily , t h i s s i t ua t i on entai 1 s reconstruc,ti ve operations--recol 1ec- h t ion , introspection, expressive regret for what i s - not. B u t t h i s does

, n o t make her less a s ightseer , f o r the narrative establ ishes a correspond-

ence between scene and mentality whereby introspection and exter ior

observation serve one another. The charac ter i s t ics of the season-:the '

nearly unbearable cold, her cl austrophobi'c feel ings of enclosure in chi 11 '

rooms, the monotony and uniformity "of the e n o c h r o ~ i c - 1.andscape--once

observed can bg descriptively assigned to the wri . ter is s t a t e of mind,

Conversely, her laments r e i t e ra t e the perceived character of the landscape.

Mrs. Jameson's sightseeing i s in the t rad i t ion of heightened tourism,

where the a t t r ibu tes of the outer spectacle define inner a t t i t udes , and .

where temperament disposes the elements gf the perceived ,environment. '

Traff ic between the two r e a l i t i e s creates the travel tex t .

Objective t ruth i s important, and a goal towards which the narrator

asp i res , b u t a t the same time i t i s an elusive quant i ty . In order t o

specify the l i t e r a l fact0 Mrs. Jameson s t a t e s the premise of her a r t , ,+ and i t s cognitive l imi ta t ions : " I know of no be t t e r way of coming a t .

the t r u u , than by observing and recording f a i th fu l ly the impression made

by objects and characters on my own mind--or, ra ther the impress they

receive from my own mind--shadowed by the clouds which pass over i t s

horizon, taking each t inc ture of i t s varying mood--until they emerge into

1 igh t , t o be corrected, or a t l e a s t modified, by observation and compari-

son" ( p . 17) . Obviously, the epistemological question i s not decisively

se t t l ed : the authent ici ty of these "impressions" recorded in good f a i t h

suggests a k i n d o f interior- documentary, but the finaf r e so r t o f actual f t y

i s s t $ TI ceRfttseft in-tke ques ion of- whether t h e seen object "impresses"

the preceiver o r the perceiver stamps her subject with an imprint of her

om sentiments. Mrs. Jawson f e e l s her obligation t o au thor i ta t ive

exposition, but, in Winter Studies, r e a l i t y i s too menacingly strange to

support objective inquiry. The issue of objec t iv i ty i s unarticulated in

sunher Rambles, where the d i s t r e s s of relocation i s resolved. There,

the relat ionship between seer and scene, and between the wr i te r and her

material , i s who1 ly posi t ive and constructive. The question of objective

t ru th i s imp1 i c i t l y answered by expository conscientiousness.

So severe, however, i s the t r a v e l l e r ' s winter depression tha t the

very business of thinking and writing i s threatened. In considering th i s

creat ive c r i s i s , Mrs. Jameson presents an instance o f . the corre pondence t , between mind and locale , and between the w r i t e r ' s ch i l l i ng despondency

r

and the t e r r i f i c cold. The temperature i s so profound and so pervasive

as to freeze the ink on her pen; simultaneously thought s tops, and language

l ike ink loses i t s fluency. " I lose a l l hear t to wri te home, o r to regis-

t e r a ref lect ion or a feeling;--thought stagnates in my head and the ink . L

in my pen--and t h i s will never do!--I rouse myself t o occupation;

and i f I cannot find i t without, I must create i t from within" (p. 29) .

The loss of thought and feel ing and o f the comunicative 1 ink with home

are the f a t a l eventuality as the numbing cold proceeds from the extremities

- - to the mind and heart . The interrupi ion of comnunications y i th homee i s a

token of death: Mrs. Jamesori fears tha t she will be destroyed by her

sequestration in t h i s icy , inhospitable place.

Her way of expressing her fear of mental torpor betrays the v i t a l

I function of a r t icu la t ion i tsef f. Her writing exercises her reduced fee l - - - - - - -- - -

ings, nourishing and stimulating t h e m to samething l i k e t h e i r typical

vigour and warmth. Early in her f i r s t entry she describes the disposit ion -

of the fortunate t r ave l l e r , enumerating the charac ter i s t ics of a heal thy

consciousness: " the des i re t o know, the impatience t o learn, the quick Q

soc ia l sympathies, t he readiness t o please and be pleased" (p. 18). A l l

t h i s quickness o f thought and percept ion const ructs p o s i t i v e r e l a t i o n s

between s e l f and environment, and such a whol ly animated men ta l i t y does

f i n a l l y r e t u r n t o Mrs. Jameson i n ,Summer Rambles, b u t i n Winter Studies

she must force h e r s e l f t o i n q u i r e and t o ob ta in informat ion, and her ."so-

c i a1 sympathies" are atrophied. One o f the most conspicuous d i s t i n c t i o n s

between the two sect ions i s the sensation i n the f i r s t o f being unknown

. and unloved--"a s t ranger among strangersu--and i n the second o f l o v i n g and

being loved.

Mrs. Jameson' s descr i p t i o n o f her . a r r i v a l i n Toronto expresses her

exc ruc ia l i ng lone1 i ness and a1 iena t ion :

as I stepped ou t o f the boat I sank ankle-deep i n t o mud and i ce . The day was in tense ly co ld and damp; the sky lowered s u l k i l y , laden w i t h snow, which was j u s t begin- n ing t o T a l l . Ha l f -b l inded by the s l e e t d r i ven i n t o my face and the tears which f i l l e d my eyes, I walked about a m i l e through a quar te r o f the town mean i n appearance, not t h i c k l y inhabi ted, and t o me, as ye t , an unknown wilderness; and through dreary, mi ry ways, never much thronged, and now, by reason o f the impending snow-storm, '

near ly s o l i t a r y . I heard no voices, no quick foot-steps o f men o r ch i ld ren; I met no f a m i l i a r face, no look o f welcome. I was sad a t hea r t as a woman could be -- and these were the impressions, the fee l ings , w i t h which I entered the house which was t o be c a l l e d my home! (P. 27)

Thus she disembarks, an a l i e n en te r ing an inhosp i tab le wasteland, and so

she remains, a s o l i t a r y , t e a r f u l f i g u r e i n a soc ia l deser t even a f t e r

, . she i s introduced t o representat ives - o f the Toronto comnunity. Indeed, 0

the presence o f o thers seems t o i n t e n s i f y r a t h e r than a l l e v i ~ a t e her lone-

. = 1 iness ., Her i s o l a t i o n i s doubly ,manifest,- i n the seasonal sec lus ion ' . j

enfo rce t lby the c l imate, and i-n the soc ia l detachment" created by the

the absence of like-minded acquaintances and by her own mental and phys- 4

1

ical indisposi t ion. With charac ter i s t ic aloofness she remarks, " I t would

seem tha t t h i s wi ntry season, which Bpbears

Canadians the season of f e s t i v i t y , and i f I

to me so dismal ,$ i s f o r the _

were not s ick and a s t ranger

-- i f I had fr iends near me, I should rea l ly enjoy i t " ( p . 25). A t l a s t ,

her social i so la t ion and her physical enclosure in f r i g i d rooms combine

to e f f e c t a claustrophobic desperation. Colonial society i s so l imited

as t o continually confront and torment her with i t s contemptible specimens:

"there i s no getting out of the way of what one most d is l ikes : we must

necessarily, hear, see, and passively endure much tha t annoys and disgusts

any one accustomed to the independence of a large and l ibera l society, or

the ease of continental l i f e " ( p . 4 9 ) . And by March the other e v i l , win-

t e r , has come t o seem "re len t less" and interminable. The deathly ine r t i a r

induced by the "bleak, shduded, change1 ess scene" can be counteracted

only by del iberate exertion of the i n t e l l e c t . -

Mrs. Jameson ' s nar ra t l ve digressions are par t of her defense against

the cul tural l y subversive envi ronmnt . These expoii tory departures from

the surrounding waste carry her back t o f r ee r thoughts and introduce

meditations on a r t , music, and@the place of women in society. In e f f e c t ,

the narrat ive digressions a re Mrs. Jamesorf's reply t o her social predica-..

ment: i n t h i s cul ture in which she has been stranded she enjoys neither

mdership nar sympathy; through her digressive narrat ive a r t , she recon- -

+- nects hersel f with the Eurppean cul ture she l e f t behind. Many of her f

- - - - - - 1 -

digressions t r e a t matters o f German a r t and thought, referr ing to the i

continental l i t e r a r y milieu in which she had found a warm welcome in

e a r l i e r t rave ls . ~i t h the digressions she addresses not an ignorant

colonial audience, but an enlightened audience abroad, a public famil iar

with the ideas and t a s t e s her discursiveness promotes. The digressions

are abrupt inser t ions, thrust into the account o f 1 i f e in Toronto; the .

-u

1 inear narrat ive, which reports events s e r i a l l y , must bear the weight

of the speculative, philosophical superstructure without rhetor ical s u p -

port from associat ive t rans i t ions or from a unifying overview. In t h i s

document ,. where the lavish, expat iat ive considerat4ons of aes the t ics and

cul ture a re s t ruc tu ra l ly independent of the t au t , drear l i nea r narrat ive,

disunity demonstrates the breach between sens ib i l i t y and circumstance

which Mrs. Jameson experienced in Toronto. --

With her excursive departures from daily log-keeping, Mrs. Jameson

constructs a defensive outwork t o r e s i s t the encroachments of the cul tural

and social crudity around her. Her ref lect ions on "journalizing" and

. reading are equally appl icable to her discursive essays on the a r t s : "I.

must t ry , " she wr i tes , "a l l mechanical means to maintain the balance of my <

f acu l t i e s , f o r ,they will be needed" mind, and the unimpaired use of my

f p . 6 8 ) . Literary a c t i v i t y not on

a1 so, i t seems, protects her sani ty

her place in an in te l lectual 1y and

1y preserves her cul tural i n t eg r i ty b u t

. Her 1 i terary endeavours reconstruct

emotional 1y sa t i s fy ing cul ture . In one

sense, the f i terary gesture i s retrograde, f o r i t looks back towards

Eaopealr exprrien& fw-mater~d36ut in mother s-e tt- is- fomwd- I

'

looking, for i t ant ic ipates the w r i t e r ' s reTurn $0 her point of or ig in . 1

Hrs. Jamson's pronounced 1 i t e rary a f f i 1 i a t ions w i t h the 01 d World, i n I

'dinter Studies, ease the d i s t r e s s of social a l ienat ion and cul tural d is -

placement; they are a formal, verbal representation of the re tu rn - t r ip ;z k which would restore her t o her f i t s e t t i ng .

L.

When Mrs. Jameson i s invi ted to make an excursion t o Niagara, she

eagerly seizes he opportunity t u shake off her torp id i ty . A1 though the i trip i s a br ie emblem of the longer Sumner Rambles, i t i s neverth$less I i

a par t icu lar ly wintry expedi t i on enacted wi thin the seasonal temi$kment 7"- "&$

of the f i r s t par t of the book. An inauspicious f i r s t stage cakvies Mrs.

Jameson to the "Oakvil l e ~ o u s 6 Hotel," where she f inds- the parlour deco-

rated w i t h framed pr in ts of the beau monde, "taken out 6f old American

magazines." She i s both amused and disappointed and

especial ly s t r u c h i t seems, with the indecorous

cul ture

you can

much of

i t " ( p .

against

through

on the p r i k wilderness. Here was a scen "which realized a l l c imagine of- t h desolation of savage 1 i f e , mixed up with just so 9 the corrinon-place vulgarity of c iv i l ized 1 i f e as sufficed to spoil

36). The unseemly union of nature and a r t i f i c e i s an offense

t a s t e , a case of mixed modes. Similar aes the t i c confusion reigns

the r e s t of the t r i p . The v i s i t t o the f a l l s themselves i s a

fascinating b i t of travel a r t which exposes some of the assumptions behind

the genre, and som of the obstacles t o a consunmated journey, fo r , as . i t '

turns out , Mrs. Jamson i s unimpressed by Niagara Fal ls . She approached ' u

them, #3 she says, f u l l o f - expectations t h a t had been act ively i n mind "since

first my imagination was awakened t o wonder and wish" (ppJ'41-42). ~ l a s ,

t h e ant ic ipat ion f a r outreaches the event, her aspir ing imagination was - 7 - - - - -- - - - - - - - - - - -

l a rger than nature i t s e l f , *and her v i w of the ca tarac t drives her back

i n t o melancholy and regre t :

1 have b*etdtttem, and,shat l I wh i spe r - i t to you! -- b u t , 0 t e l l i t not among the Phi l i s t ines -- I w i s h I had not! I wish they were s t i l l a thing unbehefd - - >

a thing to be imagined, hoped, and ant icipated -- something t o l i v e for : -- the r e a l i t y has displaced from my mind an i l lus ion f a r more magnificent than i t s e l f -- I have no words fo r my u t t e r disappoint- men t . . . . ( p . 42)

1

'This fragmented, &clamadry prose continues through a ha1 f page,,;ament- I!

, ing a strange calamity. Clearly, Mrs. Jameson's expectati&s were derived r i from 1 i t e ra ture -- she had read of Niagara and knew re1 terated declamations - 7

-. on i t s magnificence. N O W , as she attends the s i t e herse l f , nei ther trope -

nor hyperbole occur? t o her. Nothing occurs t o her: scene, a r t , and8nind .

fa i 1 : .l - 9 5

What has come over my soul and sense& -- I am& longer .- Anna -- I am metamrphoied -- I am translated P- I am an a s s ' s head, a clod, a wood JTI spoon, a f a t weed growing on Lethe's bank, a stock, a stone, a petr i fact ion '-- f o r have I not seen Niagara, the wonder of wonders; and f e l t -- no words can t e l l what disappointment! .,(p. 42)

Although she soon recovers her equanimity, and the rhythm of her prose, . 1

the shock i s nonetheless profound. To have witnessed the alleged "wonder

of wonders" and t o have responded w i t h no more acuity than "a clod, a . -

wooden spoon" argues e i t h e r the imkerfect insp i ra t ion availdble i n a -

nondescript na ture , or the insens i t iv i ty of th,e dumb 'spet,t,a$or. 1 n <

L/

. . > e i the r case, t h i s episode in Minter Studiqz discovers s o m of the craat ive / ' .\

issues posed by travel a r t , and r e y h the sometimes-uneasy relat ionship -*.

between the documentary m t i v d the d i ~ e c t i n g imagination, In th i s *

case, r e a l i t y , rather than provide an occasion for a r t , obi i t e ra t e s i n - - - -- - -- -- - - - - - - - - - -

spi ra t ion; the a r r iva l a t the destination to. which. t h e A s p i r i t aspired -

eliminates the animating motive- i t s e l ? , leaving a,n emotional and aes the t ic . - ,

void. For Anna Jamson, as for other travel wr i te rs , there i s a continuum

o f 1 i t e r a r y exper ience connect ing educat ive reading -- t h e a s s i m i l a t i o n

o f t h e p r i n c i p l e s of t h e genre i t s e l f -- w t t h w r i t i n g -- the personal I

ve rs ion o f t he rece ived experience. A t ~ i a ~ a r a , t h e a c t u a l event i n t e r -

- r u p t s the continuum and leaves the ambi t ious spec ta to r speechless and

despa i r ing , unable t o a c c o m d a t e t h e unimpressive r e a l i t y w i t h i n the

e x a l t e d t r a d i t i o n . However, Mrs. Jameson o f fe rs us a vehement and authen-

t i c s u b s t i t u t e , and an i n s i g h t i n t o the processes o f t he genre.

tr With sumner, and he r embarkat ion on a two-month journey f rom Toronto

-

t o D e t r o i t t o the head o f Lake Huron and back again t o Toronto, Mrs.

Jameson r e v i v e s . I n Toronto, she languished i n miserab le s o l i t u d e ; now,

she t r a v e l s a lone and t h r i v e s on h e r independence. I n Toronto,- was

too s i c k l y and enfeebled t o a t tend p a r t i e s ; now, he r r e c r u i t e d c o n s t i t u t i o n

f l o u r i s h e s on camping-out, a1 1 -weather canoeing, and exhaust ion. And as

she changes, so changes h e r n a r r a t i v e s t y l e . Whereas i n Toronto s t a t i s - -

t i c s , s o c i o - p o l i t i c a l d e t a i l s and demographic data were l a b o r i o u s l y c o l -

1 ec ted and grudg ing ly re1 ated, on t h i s voyage in fo rmat ion accrues spon-

taneously t o n a r r a t i v e . I n s t r u c t i v e accounts of I n d i a n and miss ionary

s o c i e t y th rong h e r s t o r y , gracefu l l y inco rpo ra ted i n t o a seamless exposi -

t o r y s t r u c t u r e . Gone a re the ab rup t d i s c u r s i v e i n t e r p o l a t i o n s o f Winter

Studies, and what d ig ress ions t h e r e a r e o r i g i n a t e o r g a n i c a l l y . On one

o f t h e few occasions when the t r a v e l l e r ' s thoughts r e v e r t t o home and

England, t h e n Mrs. Jameson hears of Queen V i c t o r i a ' s accession, t h e r e -

g ress ive re ference ac tua l l y e-n-lqnces t h e imnediate scene. As the p a r t y

nears M a n i t o u l i n I s land , a boat appears:

we saw what seemed.to us t h e huge b l a c k h u l l o f a vessel, w i t h masts and spars r i s i n g a g a i n s t t h e sky -- b u t we knew n o t what t o t h i n k o r b e l i e v e ! As we

4 4 I

186

kept on rowing i n t h a t d i r ec t i on , i t grew more d i s t i n c t , b u t lessened i n s ize; i t proved t o be a great heavy- b u i l t schooner, pa in ted black, which was going up the lake against the wind and cur rent . One man was standing i n her bows, w i t h an imnense oar, which he s lowly pu l led, waf k i n g backwards and forwards; bu t vain seemed a1 1 h i s t o i l , f o r s t i l l the vessel fay l i k e a b lack log, and moved not ; we rowed up t o the side, and ha i l ed him -- "What news?"

And the answer was t h a t W i l l i am the Fourth was dead, and t h a t Queen V i c t o r i a reigned i n h i s place! We s a t s i l e n t 'looking a t each other, and even i ~ t h a t very moment t h e orb o f the sun rose ou t of the lake, and poured i t s beams f u l l i n our dazzled eyes (pp. 142-43).

When Mrs. Jameson' s2 bat teau i s,agai n underway, she cons ide rp the news ;he 3 - 4 .* - - % has received: "many thoughts came i n t o my mind -- some tears too i n t o

i

i Q $

my eyes -- n o t c e r t a i n l y f o r t h a t dead k ing, ;ho i n r i p e age and i n a l l 3 honour was gathered t o the to& -- b u t f o r t h a t l i v i n g queen, so young

and f a i r --" ( p . 143). These thoughts occupy her f o r two paragraphs,

and lead her t o speculate on the moral r e s p o n s i b i l i t i e s o f monarchy, b u t

the imnediate scene soon reclaims her a t t e n t i o n .

The a t t rac t i veness o f t h a t scene no t on ly capt ivates her i n t e l l e c t

and sensi b i 1 i t y b u t f u l l y represents them. Her temperament approves the 3

apparent character o f the small groups o f Indians and Europeans t o which

she attaches h e r s e l f as i t never cou ld approve the ci-kizens o f Toronto,

and her aes the t i c p r i n c i p l e s are g r a t i f i e d and exempl i f ied r a t h e r than

con t rad ic ted by the landscape around her. As a r e s u l t , she i s now, as

t r a v e l l e r and speaker, much less detached and much more absorbed i n t o the

na r ra t i ve i t s e l f . Her s t a t e o f mind i s no longer a d i s t i n c t issue, con-

tending w i t h condi t ions, bu t a fac t o f the journey i t s e l f . 2 I n Winter Studies, intemperance and p r o f l i g a c y among the whi te

co lon i s t s disgusted her; i n Sumer Rambles, she e a s i l y accepts the drunken-

187 - --

r+ -

ness of the Indians she l ives among o r of the voyageurs who p i l o t her

.across Lake Huron. Altogether, Mrs. Jameson i s now in accord with her

envi ronmnt , ash her increasing moral and physical to1 erance shows. Novel ty

i s now an inspir ing fac tor , and no longer an agent of anxiety and intro-

spective lassi tude as i t was in Toronto. Her unfamiliarity with the world

she tra-verses, ra ther than de ter her, a t t r a c t s and compels her in her

course, and even induces a feel ing of enriching secur i ty , l i ke tha t which

Bartram discovered i n southern wi 1 dernesses . klhereas Mrs. Jameson arrived in Toronto unwelcomedand unloved, on

her wilderness journey she i s accorded a l l courtesy and hospi ta l i ty . She?

appears to have been regarded w i t h favorable at tent ion and even with love 0

by 'the Indians she m e t : a par t icular ly estimable Chippewa family figura-

t ive ly adopts her and she develops a quick affection f o r them. She i s

loved, and she loves, and the narrat ive mood re f l ec t s t h i s happy sent i -

m n t a l comnerce. Her c r i t i c a l resis tance to the manners of Toronto society

i s i n Sumner Rambles replaced by a will ing curiosi ty and appreciation of

novel scenes and exotic f igures , and a consistent admiration o f the natural , x

landscape. In Winter Studies, Niagara i s a sorry compensation f o r European d

scenery: "Terni, and some of the Swiss cataracts leaping from t h e i r

mountains, have affected me a thousand times more than a l l the imnensity of

Niagara" (p. 4 2 ) . In Sumer Rambles, however, such comparisons tend to

recomnend the New World over the Old. For instance, watching the manoeuvres a

of Indian canuei sts f ishing m n g 'the rapids, she judges t h e s~cene unique

and superior: " I used to admire the fishermen on the Arno, and those on

the Lagune, and above a1 1 the Neapol i tan fishermen, hauling in t h e i r nets,,

o r diving l ike ducks, but I never saw anything l i k e these Indians. The

manner in which they keep t h e i r position upon a footing of a few inches,

i s to me as incomprehensible as the beauty of t h e i r forms and a t t i t udes , f

swayed to- every movement and turn of t h e i r dancing, f r a g i l e barks, is

admirable" ( p . 130). Jus t as her descriptive prose en ters unreservedly

in to the pleasure and sensation of the moment, so Mrs. Jameson enters

personally in to the social conditions she encounters: she adores her com-

panions and hosts, she t r i e s to "speak Indian," she shoots the rapids a t

Saul t Ste: Marie. The t r ave l l e r who found her accommodations a t oro onto nearly intolerable , f inds an Indian h u t offer ing "every appearance of

comfort, and even elegance, according to- the Indian notions of both" ( p .

129) ., 4

-The radical s h i f t in mood i s more than simply a re f lec t ion of low

s p i r i t s revived. I t indicates as well the operations of Mrs. Jameson's

l i t e r a r y sens ib i l i t y and the natural avenues of her t a s t e and education.

Her s i tua t ion a t Toronto i s en t i r e ly adverse to her a r t : her curiosi ty

i s only minimally aroused by colonial society, her t a s t e i s offended by

the crude facsimile of c iv i l i ration a t the capi tal . , Narrative i s brought

t o bear on the s i t e only with s t r i c t d i sc ip l ine , and a t every opportunity

bears off t o me1 ancholy reverie or phi 1 osophical digressions a1 1 uding to

European experience. On the other hand,. when she i s abroad in the wilder-

ness, she discevers a scene which answers the demands of her imagination

and t h e - i n t e n t i m o f her art+ Her journey is an aes the t ic adventure, and

her prose i s as f luent as her passage. Both the concept and the ac tua l i ty

of the scene g ra t i fy her t a s t e s , and the t rans ien t re lat ionships she forms

en route embrace her sentiments. An inexhaustible ambition fo r experience --

replaces the lethargy of her lonely experience as hn anxious stranger i n

Toronto.

In Toronto, th'e tern of her sojourn i s unspecified, or represented , .

as unspecified; once she arr ives, she loses sight of the conclusion of

her v i s i t . Sumner suggests a t leas t an interruption t o her ennui, b u t ,

in the middle of a seemingly endless winter, th i s distant promise i s fa in t .

Alienation appears t o be a permanent condition, and the digressive s t r a t -

egies of the narrative are necessary to sa t is fy her need for feelings of

cultural membership i n an alternate milieu. In Sumner Rambles, however,

there is-no question of staying on. Cultural separateness will end w i t h

the foreseeable conclusion of the journey. Mrs. Jameson can rely on th is

happy cl imax t o her adventure and, in the meantime, re1 ish the novelty of

her environment, and remark i t in responsive detai 1 . She i s free to enter

into these exotic scenes without fear of being absorbed or assimilated by

them. In Winter Studies, narrative structure i s fragmented tp accommodate

the ~ r i t e r ' s appeal to a remote audience; in Summer Rambles, narrative

structure i s unified by the ascertainable sequence and duration of a f i n i t e

journey which, unquestionably, will lead the traveller back t o her point of

origin. The t ravel ler i'n the wilderness i s not threatened by inconclusive

estfangement as the sojourner in Toronto i s .

Beginning with the annual winter/summer dist inct ion, the narrative

as a whole develops the contest between the congealed emotions of Studies

and the quickened sensations of ~arrbles, between confi ni ng , isolating en-

c7osures and spacious opportunities, between the alien, sickly sojourner

and the ful f i 1 led, robust t raveller . B o t h patterns of experience are

l iable t o be the share of the traveller , and Winter Studies i s no less a

successful piece of narrat ive a r t because i t r e f l e c t s the mental hardship

of separation from the world t o which the wri ter has been in t e l l ec tua l ly

and emotionally attached. When cul tural sympathy i s re-established in

Surmr Rambles, we find tha t the aes the t ic and moral incl inat ions of a

travel wr i te r l i ke Anna Jameson are more l ike ly to be s a t i s f i e d by wilder-

ness. and by aboriginal cul ture than by the archi tecture of a colonial

capi tal or by the rude arrangements of a society she sees as only a deriva-

, t i v e corruption of a European model.

Mrs. Jameson's h e a r t f e l t reservations abo& the cogency and, en1 ight-

enment of Canadian society were shared by other c o ~ n t a t o r s on North

America and some of them were not tou r i s t s b u t c i t i zens . In these wr i te rs ,

feel ings of connection w i t h the Old World superseded t h e i r a f f i l i a t i o n s

' B w i t h the New, and, fur ther , t h e i r a r t stands cent ra l ly in the Canadian

l i t e r a r y t rad i t ion . For Canadian readers, the writings of Thomas Halibur-

ton, .John Richardson and Susanna Moodie a re not peripheral cu r ios i t i e s but

focal documents which-continue to exc i te in t e res t . In the work of these

three wr i te rs , the rhetorical s t ructures of travel narrat ive express the

pre;edence of the i r a t tachemnts t o a community el sewhere, remote from \ ,

Canada.

In the careers of Susanna Moodie and John Richardson, there a re c l ea r

biographical explanations f o r these external cul tural a f f i l i a t i o n s . B u t

with Thomas Hal iburt6n the-case i s much more compl icatEd. He was a native

of Nova Scotia, offspring of a l o y a l i s t family and educated in the Tory

t r ad i t ion -- i n a l l , by b i r th and up-bringing, a c i t i zen . He exercised 2"

7' his c i t izenship thoroughw, as a member of the Legislative Assembly from

.I 826 t o 1829, as a c i rcui t judge in the Court of Co & n Pleas from 1829 - to

1841, and as a judge in the supreme Court from 1841 to 1854. He published

comprehensive researches i n t o the character of Nova Scotia -- A General

Description of Nova Scotia (1823) and An Historical and S t a t i s t i c a l Account

of Nova Scotia (1829) -- as we1 1: as various pol i t i c a l writ ings. The degree

of h is involvement in his cornunity was, in these respects , extensive. B u t

underlying t h i s c iv i c and l i t e rg ry investment in his native country was an

almost rancorous i r r i t a t i o n a t i t s deficiencies and a c r i t i c a l detachment

tha t ended i n his permanent relocation in England, where he passed the l a s t

ten years of his l i f e .

Certainly, Hal i burton would not have considered himsel f a travel writ-

e r . Yet, in both The Clockmaker: Or the Sayings and Doings of Sam Slick *

of S l i ckv i l l e (1836) and The Old Judge: Or Life in a Colony (1849) his

imagination finds an ,e f f ic ien t vehicle in the travel mode. I t inerant

observation supplies ju s t the kind of material t ha t i s the s tu f f of Halibur-

- ~ t o n ' s s a t i r e : " ' I guess,' sa id the Clockmaker, 'we know more of Nova Scotia

than the Bluenoses themselves do. ' ' " 7 Sam S l i ck ' s superior sources of

in,formation a r e attributab1.e t o his role as wanderer as we1 1 as to his

keen f acu l t i e s . And the par t ia l t r u t h of the Clockmaker's remark, resid- 7 -

ing beyond the irony of his overweening whole truth of

Haliburton's s a t f r e : the foreign observer 's hment from the society

on which he comments ,authorizes h is insight As$ Sam hi&el f

notes, t o say "'What's t ha t t o me?"' (p. 84) i s t o introduce judgement

uncomprornised by se l f - i n te res t -- judgement exercised fo r the sheer pleas- '

ure of opinion. While Nova Scotians languish in s lo th , poverty, spurious

! - /'

/ , /--. .

values and f a l s e ambi t i o n s , Sam f l o u r i s h e s . Improvement can b e n e f i t h im

no more than c u r r e n t c o n d i t i o n s a l ready do. .And h i s a1 i e n status 'd is tances

h im f rom h i s s u b j e c t enough t o revea l a design unrecognized by the con-

s t i t u e n t s o f t h e p a t t e r n : what i s f a m i l i a r and nondescr ip t t o Nova Scot ians

i s uncommon and remarkable t o Sam.

The Clockmaker's t a l e i s a t r a v e l s t o r y w i t h i n a t r a v e l s t o r y . S t ruc-

t u r a l l y , t h e journey through t h e " e a s t e r d i r c u i ti' belongs t o the Squire,

an Eng l i sh t r a v e l l e r who a c t s as d i s c r e e t n a r r a t o r and whose comnents open 1

I and c lose the d iscourse. While the s q u i r e e x i s t s o n l y i n - r e l a t i o n t o the

advance o f t he n a r r a t i v e , Sam i s an o b j e c t of obse rva t ion h i m s e l f and a

f i c t i o n a l cha rac te r as the Squire i s no t . The reader shares t h e Squ i re ' s

pe rcep t ion t h a t , " w i t h a l l h i s shrewdness t o d iscover , and h i s humour t o

r i d i c u l e t h e f o i b l e s o f others, M r . S l i c k was b l i n d t o t h e many defec ts o f 0

h i s own charac ter . . . ." (p. 108) I n d e c l a r i n g t h a t a non- res ident Yankee

knows "more o f Nova Sco t ia than t h e Bluenoses themselves do," Sam speaks

w i t h t h e arrogance o f a t r a v e l l e r whose knowingness i s based e q u a l l y on

genuine i n s i g h t and r i gh teous self-esteem. Hal i b u r t o n ' s n a r r a t o r leads us

t o a f u r t h e r view o f t h e t r a v e l l e r ' s i r r e p r e s s i b l e comnentary when he r e -

f l e c t s on Sam's tendency t o r e a c t t o sel f -doubt by attaeking Bluenose charac ter

and manners. Sam's manic devo t ion t o the r e p u b l i c o f which he i s an

e n t h u s i a s t i c c i t i z e n i s ce r ta i -n l y one a f The Clockinaker's most impor tant b

jokes, ht i t i s c l e a r l y n o t meant - to a h u l t e r a t e t h e e s s e n t i a l t r u t h o f

t he cfiauuinist's u i a of another regim. In fac t , i t i s t h e impetus to - /

some of Sam's most f e l l i n g c r i t i c i s m s o* t h e colony: t h e "White Nigger"

d i s q u i s i t i o n i s h i s response t o the Squ i re ' s d isapproval o f i f i i q u i tous

s l a v e r y p o l i c i e s i n t h e Un i ted Sta tes . Sam's s t y l e o f c i t i z e n s h i p cannot b

*-

account f o r such a-discrepancy i n the philosophy o f ega l i t a r ian i sm, b u t

i t can expose an equally heinous socia l a t r o c i t y in Nova Sco t ia . The

chauvinism o r even xenophobia of t he t r a v e l l e r i s not u l t imately an

obstacle to truth, b u t , on the contrary , of ten an agent of s a t i r i c in- / \

s i g h t .

Five years before Sam Slick made h i s f i r s t publi-c appearance, Frances

Tro l lope ' s Domestic Manners of the Americans was published i n England and

the circumstances surrounding t h i s book's publication m y help t o i l lumi- &

na teHal ibur ton ' s appropr ia t ion of the travel genre. Mrs. Trollope found

much in America t o c r i t i c i z e and, while abroad, remembered much about

England t o p ra i se . Her ac t i ve and a r t i c u l a t e pat r io t ism gives her account +

o f th ree years i n the New World a highly personal countenance, and she

emerges from her memoirs as a charac te r a s memorable as Sam Sl ick . Ameri-

can readers were outraged by Domestic Manners, and consumed Mrs. Tro l lope ' s - volumes with fur ious appe t i t e . I t was an extraordinar i l y successful piece

of soc ia l c r i t i c i s m and made i t s a u t h o r ' s reputa t ion, and mended her for-

tunes. Hal i burton, i n e f f e c t , exp lo i t s t h i s actual pa t te rn of 1 i t e r a ry

response by reconstruct ing i t ~i t h h i s f i c t i o n . He uses the except ional ly

personal t r a v e l l e r , f u l l of b i a s , prejudice and xenophobia, t o arouse h i s

audience, but a t the saw time r e f i ne s the overal l epistemology of the

nar ra t ive by emphasizing the r o l e of the outspoken t o u r i s t as charac te r .

By allowing Sam h i s preposterous statements and complaints, Haliburton i n -

v i t e s t h e reader t o p a r t i c i p a t e i n his l i t e r a r y purpose, and t o discr imi-

nate am0ng.a baf f l ing confusion of t r u t h s . Eventually, the most en l igh t -

ened among Mrs. Tro l lope ' s

in f a c t i f n o t i n spi r i t . .

American readers endorsed some of her judgements

Hal ibur tgn 's method imi ta tes t h i s kind of

1 i terary provocation, and his creation of a Trol lopesque t r ave l l e r kxpands

the a r t i s t i c p o s s i b i l i t i e s of the incidental social e f f e c t s of Domestic

Manners. He a s s h e s tha t his audience will be edif ied by an exercise in

objec t iv i ty . C

Sam's chauvinism i s not the o%ly feature borrowed from the travel

genre. The sequence inherent in the journey i s so famil iar a pfo t of.human

experience, t ha t i t can bear digression and expatiation as perhaps no other

narrat ive s t ruc ture can without jeopardizing coherence. In The Clockmaker,

l inear narrative advance i s not derailed by anecdotal material because i t

i s the narrative of t rave l , and travel s t ruc ture can eas i ly accomnodate

the s a t i r i s t ' s d i f fuse i r r i t a t i o n a t a thousand deplorable habits of a

decadent society . Sometimes 1 ocati on provides occasion: Sam remembers

what happened here another time, or the tenants of a property along the

route supply an i l l u s t r a t i o n of a par t icu lar species of e r ro r . Other times,

Sam's elaborately associat ive mentality finds inspirat ion in some impinging

object: a tea-pot reminds him of a time when he took tea with Mr. and

Mrs. Cronningshed, whose conversation revealed the mistakenness of aspir-

ing to public o f f i ce and the be t t e r wisdom of securing pr ivate sufficiency,

which, of course, r e l a t e s t o the pol i t ica l fo l ly of the typical Bluenose.

Scenes, persons, small transactions i n passage -- a l l put Sam "in mind of"

something e l s e , and. s imile i s the mast ubiquitous rhetor ical device of

his discourse. The speaker 's resource of simili tude i s , na tura l ly enough,

dependent on the breadth of h i s experience; comparative material , gathered

from the wide experimce o f t r w e l , create& t h e f igures a ~ d tiopes of

Sam's idiom and argument.

Finally, i n The Clockmaker, travel i t s e l f i s an a r t i cu la t ing ac t iv i ty . 5 3

Once underway, Sam t a l k s , often inspired by no more than mobility. His

tal 'k i s the making of h i s "c i r cu i t " and establ ishes i t s whole meaning: he

r e l a t e s the present journey, he recounts other journeys through (the same

geographical or social t e r r i t o r y , and he of fers moral information "cipher-

ed" from a l l his t rave ls . His i t inerancy i s his credential f o r judgement

and comnentary.

The Clockmaker se r i e s is not the only work of ~ a l i b u r t o n ' s t ha t re-

s o r t s t o a travel s t w c t u r e to organize s a t i r i c a l material . The Old Judge

i s a loose' compilation of sketches, humour, and social c r i t i c i sm authorized

by the pretext of trave?. The narrator introduces himself and his project ,

t h i s way: " I am, gent le reader, a t r ave l l e r , and my object a l so i s two-

fold: f i r s t , t o pay my respects to you, and, secondly, t o impart, ra ther

than sol i c i t , information. 118 The f ic t iona l premise assumes a foreign

audience, and the s a t i r i c a l premise assumes, a t l e a s t , an audience which

would share the values of the European observer. The obligation of the

travel wr i te r t o explain the unfamiliar customs of the society he v i s i t s *

to the society whence he, comes is , in The Old Judge, the presiding s a t i r -

ical device. The narrator , l i ke the Squire in The Clockmaker, i s an Eng-

lishman on an ins t ruc t ive tour. His ignorance of local pract ice i s an

invi ta t ion to his author to describe, as i f in discovery, colonial r i t e s

and manners.

The inquis i t ive t r a v e l l e r ' s naivety and h i s audience's equivalent

innocence of colonial forms and habits underlie the whole composition.

The na r ra to r ' s q ~ s t i o n s , assumed t o represent the i n t e r e s t of the English

reader, a re answered by his two colonial conductors, and t h e i r rep1 i e s

become vehicles for Hal\iburtonls po l i t i ca l and social apinipns- In "Merri-

rkkingsN the t r a v e l l e r describes h i s own. i n i t i a t i o n in to 'the r i t u a l s of .

the "pickinick" and includes as par t of the. occasion hi's host Barclay's

view of the social temperament of the colonist:

Merrimaking i n America, except in towns or new s e t t l e - ,

ments, i s a sad misnomer, when applied to such matters; the rel igion of the country, which i s puri tanical , i s uncongenial to i t ; dissent i s cold and gloomy, and re- presses the cheerfulness of youth, and the buoyancy of healthful s p i r i t s ( p . 7 2 ) .

1

Barclay's analysis of colonial gravity i s s t r ik ingly i n accord with Mrs. 8 '

Trol lope ' s judgement of social l i f e i n America. The p ~ i n t of view of each

wr i te r (and we can assam tha t Barclay i s a spokeman fo r h is author) i s

t ha t of the observer depressed by the sombre society in which he f inds him-

6- s e l f , impressed by i t s cul tural vacuity and alienated by i s e th i c . Hali-

burton i s deeply concerned w i t b t h i s issue, and Barclay expands his analy-

s i s in to a c iv i c and domestic p o r t r a i t of unrelieved drabness and lone-

l i ness . As the settlements grow and the s e t t l e r prospers mater+ally, h i s 4 I

character and appearance ... undergo a sad change: the " j o l ly , noisyyeomanbecomesamelancholy-lookingman;

his temper is gradually soured by the sol i tude and in which he l ives , and, resort ing t o p o l i t i c s and rel igion f o r excitement, he rushes to the wildest ex- tremes in both, howlkg f o r nights together i n the protracted meetings ~f revivals , o r raving with equal zeal and ignorance about theories of government ( p . 73).

A t home, women are P

confined to the house and i t s close and unwholesome atmosphere, and suf fer i n proportion. No 'merry 1 augh rings on the ear of the anxious mother, no song glad& dens her heart, no ckeerful dance o f joyous youth

x e f l e c t s the image of the past , o r gives presage of " a happy future. Sadness, suffering, o r discontent i s legible on the face. Silence o r f re t fu lness pervades the. house. The home is not happy.. . (p. 73).

1 T h e writer who sees such canditians as typigal and describes them ~ i t h

; iuch cdnvicrion can feel no sympat6etic absorption in thePsociety which

3 ' i s ' t h e bbjec t of his a r t . Although. Barclay i s presented as a citizenwand

misi dent, his sens b i l i t y ' i s as alienated by l i f e in the New World as Mrs.

Trollope's was. And, while h i s valuer dissent from ?hose imnanent i n h i s e "

I

- social,,environment; they correspond b idiomatically z7= - . and philosophically to 4

those o f the Engl i s\ {ravel 1 er-narrator who i s "a good deal struck-. . .with +'a. - $3

& the differen-ce between tha t portion of the Anglo-Saxon race established a

here and, the. parent stock"

England as the standard by

c l a y ' s descr ipt ions quoted

Scoti a ,

Iz

( p . 200). The subsequent comparison establ ishes B

which j;dgements a re made; and then ethoe;' Bir-

above. Throughout the western half of Nova

there i s an individual i ty not to be found in England. There are no hamlets, no l i t t l e rural v i l lages , no co1 lect ion of houses, b u t fo r the -purpose of t rade; and, of course, there i s no mutual dependence f o r assis tance or defence . . . . In teres t . . . p redominates over a f fec t ion , ' .

and the t i e s o f friendship a re weak. Every one l ives by himself and fo r himself. People dwell on t h e i r own properties a t a distance from each other , and every household cons t i tu tes i t s own l i t t l e world; but even here the habit of ear ly migration from the parental roof, and a to t a l want of local attachment, added to a Strong and confident feeling of sel f-re1 iance, weaken the force of domestic love, and the heart suf fers (pp. 200-201).

Heart-suffering, then, i s the climax of t h i s d i s m l social process of

i so la t ion , i n s t a b i l i t y and individual ism. The d r i f t of Hal iburton 's c r i t i -

cism is important: he d e r c r i k s & rocis1 void tht sjckens the s p i r i t and

R&S the faculties of W n transaction which ordinar i ly c rea te a whole-

some web of cul tural connections f o r the individual. Without t h i s sustain-

ing, attaching pat tern, mn i s a d r i f t w i t h neither cuf tura l nor m r a l

gui des. B u t Hal fburton ' s travel 1 e r does not propose a uni versa1 vacuum:

fo r consolation he can turn t o h i s own point of or igin and r e fe r t o the

venerable arrangements of English society. As a t r a v e l l e r he will return

there in person as well a s in thought and t a s t e . And as an imitation of

the travel genre, The Old Judqe resor t s t o Old World values and European

perspecti ve t o place colonial experience and t o counteract i t s cul tural

des t i tu t ion . The displaced o r disaffected a r t i s t as t r a v e l l e r has an

option which the al ienated, sedentary a r t i s t has not.

-, Haliburton seized the option personally, and removed t o England in

1856 to pass the l a s t decade of h is l i f e . -Without drawing conclusions

from t h i s ex t ra- l i te rary event, we can explore the relat ionship between

travel narrative and biography. In the travel genre, the h is tor ica l - event

provides occasion fo r the rhetor ical event, and the journey ex i s t s on two

levels: f i r s t , as a physical event, i t has a ver i f iab le , h i s tor ica l real- "

i t y ; second, as a verbal event, i t has a rhe tor ica l , l i t e r a r y r ea l i ty .

B u t when we look a t Haliburton's career , we find t h a t the rhetor ical event

preceeded the h i s to r i ca l . (We will f ind l a t e r , in the case of Susanna

Moodie, tha t the rhetor ical occasion of travel narration stood f o r the

h is tor ica l event of homecoming, which was never enacted. ) For Hal iburton,

return t o an imaginatively-determined point of departure occurred f i r s t

in a r t , then in l i f e .

'&at i s c l ea r i n both the Sam Slick se r i e s and The Old Judge i s t ha t

Hafiburton's narrat ive voice tended naturalTy towards the idiom of the

t r a v e l l e r and the perspective of the sojourner. Although h i s par t icu lar L

grievances a re chief ly pol i t ica l and economic, the general mood of h is

complaint derives from his sense of the insubstantial and decadent

character of colonial society and the bleakness of i ts cul ture -& a cul ture

notable f o r i t s deficiencies rather than for i ts properties.

The travel device i s a pecul i a r l y appropriate medium f o r Hal i burton's

a r t : f i r s t , the detached point of view of the i t i n e r attendant

assumption of his impart ia l i ty a re comfortable vehicles f o r s a t i r e . Char-

* ac ters a re i l l u s t r a t i v e types passed'in review, exploited f o r the s a l i e n t

t r a i t s which pertain to the s a t i r i s t ' s argument. And the a l i en can con-

vi nci ngly expose rneani ngs of pract ice undetected by the resident . Second,

* the essent ial a t t i t u d e of the s a t i r i c a l Haliburton towards h is native cut- h t u re was tha t of a c i t i ten assigned by f a t e b u t not by s p i r i t t o a society

which persisted in manifest e r ro r . Theopenings of both The Clockmaker and

The Old Judge are both so gracefully, so spontaneously declarat ive of his

1 i terary view of himself as to leave no doubt of the wri t e r ' s aes the t ic

s t a t ion . In the former, the Squire introduces himself only as a wayfarer

on horseback: " I was always He1 1 mounted.. . ," and tha t i s vir tual ly the

most de f in i t ive statement the narrator makes of himself. In the l a t t e r ,

the na r ra to r ' s i den t i ty i s complete in " I am, gentle reader, a t r ave l l e r

...." One irrevocable condition of the t r a v e l l e r ' s s t a tus i s t ha t he 5

*i

hme from somewhere t o which he can be expected t o return, and in tha t '"a

place his values or iginate . His observations in passage address not the

subjects of his exposition, b u t t ha t audience which awaits his return. So

Haliburton's a r t re f lec ted , i ts adoption of the travel mode, i t s

aes the t ic provenance and dest inat ion.

I V

John Richardson i s another native Canadian wri ter who eventually

assumed the voice of the t r a v e l l e r in describing the land of his or ig ins ,

although the biographical circumstances of h is a r t a re rather d i f fe rent

from those of Hal ibur ton ' s . Richardson was born a t Queenston in 1796,

.and remained in North America unt i l 1815, when he embarked f o r Europe.

He had served i n the War of 181 2, and continued h is career w i t h the Brit ish

Army abroad, serving i n the West Indies and in Spain. In the interval

between foreign postings, he l ived in England and supplemented his income

w i t h writ ing. In 1832 he published Wacousta, his Gothic mil i tary romance

of f r o n t i e r adventures. Eight Years in Canada recounts h i s return i n 1838

and h is subsequent experience here. The book i s intensely autobiographical

in some respects, concerned wi t h Richardson ' s personal aspirat ions and

anxiet ies , and, in other respects, dedicated t o the l e s s intimate objec-

t ives of his tor ical documentation. A1 together, i t i s a miscel lany of in-

tentions and r e su l t s re f lec t ing i t s author 's uncertainty of the meaning and

direction of his journey. He s e t s out intending to re-establ ish himself

i n the New World, but, finding no secufe place and no very hospitable

welcome, reslimes an a t t i t u d e of transience. Eight Years i s , f i n a l l y , the

utterance of a t r a v e l l e r , a man of l e t t e r s and adventure, and of' no fixed

attachment here.

When Richardson arrived in Canada he had resigned

mission and had accepted an assignment from the iondon

his mil i tary com-

Times t o report on < .

the pol i t ica l character of the colony's factious hegemony. To this journal-.

i s t i c o f f i ce he added another l i t e r a r y purpose, as the f i r s t pages of

Eight Years show. Richardson, - i n s p i t e of his ear ly experience in North - , - . c i

0

c c c e

0 = Amwi ca, vo1 unteered f o r service in the company of- European travel 1 e r s 3

who informed the Old World about the New, and h is l i t e r a r y missim was -7 r = . .s = ~ O . = , < , c

. o f c

d i rec t ly determi ned by the comparati ve and expository t rad i t ions of travel

<--- writing .

As he approached New York he reviewed the discoveries of h is l i t e r a r y

<antecedents: "During the voyage I had devoted such portions of my time

as the horrid nausea which pervaded my system would permit, t o a "reperusal

- of the works of Hal 1 , Hami 1 ton, and Miss Marti neau, endeavouring to impress

upon my memory the pecu l i a r i t i e s a t t r ibuted by each of those wri ters to

the people I was about t o mix'with f o r a short season, and to judge from

my own unbiassed observation how f a r they were borne out in t h e i r general

appl icat ion."9 As i t turns out , Richardson's -impressions of New York and r'

iy,

New Yorkers are more favourable than those of his predecessors, but his

good opinion i s not en t i r e ly a t t r ibu tab le t o his impart ia l i ty o r his

"unbiassed observation." New York becomes, in Eight Years, a s i t e of -con-_,

sol a t ion on thi s cheer1 ess , i ndi f fe rent continent ,' a sanctuary where

Richard~on's~amour propre could be encouraged a f t e r sorry disappointments. . ,

His descriptions of the c i t y a re effusive and appreciative as no other

portionq of these memoirs a re , and the 1 ively optimism of his prose re-

f l e c t s the respectful welcome accorded by New Yorkers to the author of

Macousta-.

He leaves New York to journey towards h is homeland, and conditions

de ter iora te progressively unt i l he encounters the baleful countenance of

the wintry environs of Ni agara:

The season of my ar r iva l i n Canada, was not one of a -7 nature to impress me favorably with the scenery near

which my in fant days had been cradled. The waters of the Niagara looked cold, dark; and sul len. The banks, high, and in many par t s precipitous, were y e t unclothed with verdure. The t rees of a gray and dingy color , were without even the promise of a l e a f , and, in shor t , the whole aspect of the country was monotonous and cheerless to a degree ( p . 22) .

Richardson's f i r s t view of the Canadian l andscab i s portentous: the ) uninviting scene and i t s bare, unpromising aura a re an omen of the social

and cul tural waste t h a t Richardson finds everywhere about him during these

e ight years .

Once a t Niagara, Richardson as an educated and a r t i c u l a t e t r ave l l e r - m u s t work u p a version of the ca tarac t . Like Anne Jameson, he i s well -

1 '%

provisioned w i t h aes the t ic information on the subject, but he finds his

own sensi bi 1 i t y not equi pped f o r ecstasy :

The glowing descriptions which I had read in the pub- l ica t ions of modern tou r i s t s , and par t icu lar ly tha t of Fanny Kemble, had led me t o suppose t h a t a sentiment of mingled awe and admiration, would have been excited on my f i r s t view of the might tor rent . -- I confess I was disappointed. I f e l t admiration, B u t acknowledged no

, awe ( p . 2 3 ) .

Richardson's c r i t i que of the f a l l s i s an example of the kind of scenic

connoisseurship in which well-travel led writers readily indulge. He finds !

Niagara, f ina l ly , a1 together too plain, too uniform and homogeneous i n

composi ti on (corresponding , perhaps, t o the di spi r i t i ng monotony he di s-

terns in the surrounding countryside). Better, he says, t h a t a l l t h i s

water should make i t s precipitous way through some W e tortuous topo- 3

graphy, 1 i ke t h a t of the py&negs : " I t i s t h i s want of i r r egu la r i ty ,

added to the absence of corresponding scenery, t h a t robs the Fa1 l s , in i

my estimation, of much o f p e imposing grandeur tha t otherwise a t t a ~ h e s f

t o them" (p. 2 3 ) . I t seems t h a t only the n a t u r a l i s t ' s men ta i t y , as i t = .

appears i n a travel l e ~ l i ke Nil 1 iam Bartram, i s completely f ree from the f

preconceptions which evaluate and c lass i fy landscape according to a system

of aes the t ic conventions. Yet even so schooled a wri ter a; Anne Jameson

can escape the complacent valuations of spectacle in which Richardson 3

engages.

But na ture has no c e n t r a l r o l e i n Richardson's s t o r y , and h i s i n -

adequacies i n t h a t area a r e inconsequent ia l . Rather, he i s i n t e r e s t e d i n d

manners and government, and'his own career . E i g h t Years i s main ly t h e

h i s t o r y o f t h e a u t h o r ' s seeking preferment i n an i n h o s p i t a b l e s o c i a l and

p o l i t i c a l m i l i e u . Except f o r an o f f i c i a l endowment o f •’250 which he f i-

n a l l y secures t o support h i s p u b l i s h i n g en te rp r i se , h i s a p p l i c a t i o n s a r e

r u d e l y denied. H i s a t t i t u d e s a re conspicuously h o s t i l e t o p r e v a i l i n g

p o l i t i c a l mores; i n a t ime o f change, Richardson i s f u r i o u s l y reac t i ona ry ,

l o y a l i s t and a n t i - r e p u b l i c a n -- a hopeless anachronism o f f e r i n g p r o l i x and

unheeded advice t o deaf ears. The o n l y forum f o r h i s adv ice i s h i s t r a v e l

n a r r a t i v e , addressed t o a sympathet ic audience e l sewhere. A s u b s t a n t i a l \

p a r t o f t he book i s devoted t o f e v e r i s h comendat ion o f l o y a l i s t person- 7 1

a1 i t i e s and t o slanderbus i n v e c t i v e aga ins t the- agents o f change. ~uf f ;sed

w i t h contempt f o r those he has d i s t i n g u i s h e d as h i s adversar ies, he de-

sc r ibes the o b j e c t i o n s o f reformers t o ' t h e obs t ruc t i on i sm o f Lord Metca l fe -

as " i n s o l e n t clamor," pe rpe t ra ted by "unpr inc ip led " and "ungentlemanly"

charac ters ( p . 222) . Richardson" p o l i t i c a l values were obsolete. He s o l i c i t e d t h e favour

I

o f an out-moded regime i n hi.s own i n t e r e s t and, f a i l i n g , saw h i m s e l f as

h e r o i c a l l y a1 iena ted from a v u l g a r comnuni ty which neg lec ted h i s c la ims.

A t t h e end o f h i s Canadian career he r e p a i r e d t o New York, where, i n s p i t e

o f h i s a n t i - r e p u b l i c a n sent iments, he had e a r l i e r d iscovered sympathy and

recogn i t i on . Th is conc lus ive r e l o c a t i o n fa1 1s beyond t h e s t r u c t u r e o f

E i g h t Years (and as a t r u e d e s t i n a t i o n New York i s , i n terms o f t h e con-

vent ions o f t r a v e l n a r r a t i v e , ou ts ide t h e proper scope o f t h e t e x t ) b u t

%

'41 nevertheless helps t o es tab l i sh the w r i t e r ' s point of view as tha t of

the a l i en sojourner ant ic ipat ing a resor t to a more sympathetic social

s i tua t ion .

While Richardson's pol i t i c a l antagonisms a r e cer ta in ly germane to his

disaffect ion, more important to our purpose i s h is cul tural a l ienat ion.

Set t led i n the v i l lage of Sandwich, near his boyhood home a t Amherstburgh,

he finds himself frequently resort ing to Detroit f o r social amenity, and

developing an increasing hosti 1 i ty to the Canadian comnuni ty: i

The town and people of Sandwich, I found precisely i n the same condition of apathy and poverty with those I had so recently qui t ted, so tha t I was glad to avail myself of a l l opportunities of crossing t o the American shore, where I was much be t te r known than in Canada, and where I ever experienced a hospi ta l i ty and kindness which I can never forget . A t Detroit , and in i t s immediate v ic in i ty , was l a id the chief scenes of my Indian t a l e of "Wacousta," and as the Americans are essent ia l ly a_ read- ing people, there was scarcely an individual in the place who w~s not famil iar w i t h the events described in i t , while, on the contrary, not more than one twentieth of the Canadian people were aware of the existence of- the book, and of tha t twentieth not one th i rd cared a straw whether the author was a Canadian or a T u r k . Nor i s t h i s remark meant to apply simply t o the remote region I was now v i s i t i ng , but t o hundreds of the more wealthy classes in a1 1 sections of the provinces (pp. 92-93).

In Canadian cul ture there i s no audience f o r Richardson's a 4 and in

Canadian society no recognition of h i s - s ta tus as a wri ter . In America he

i s "known;" in Canada he i s not. He complains t h a t Canada i s alone amona 1

nations i n i t s disregard of cul tural ma'tters and i t s f a i lu re to exaHAii i

idernnify i t s a r t i s t s . Resentfully he compares h is cool reception by the

"non-reading Canadian" to the magnanimous hospi ta l i ty of the "reading

Americans" (D . 172). When conditions in Canada seem nearly intolerable ,

Richardson's narrat ive a r t takes on the function of , on the one hand,

disengaging the wri ter from the s i t e of an indi f fe rent and even hos t i l e

audience and, on the hand, ingra t ia t ing him in to the s e t t i n g of a hospita-

ble, receptive audience. I t i s almost as i f the wri ter were preparing

the American scene to o f fe r the discouraged t r ave l l e r a consoling welcome

and homecoming. The refractory unwillingness of Canadians t o acclaim

Richardson as an a r t i s t surely disposes him to renewed mobility -- and

induces the panic which seizes him when he finds himself comnitted to

permanent residence a t Brockvi 1 le .

A pleasant caravan tour , on which he i s accompanied by h is household

and his beloved pets , car r ies h i m from ~ e t r o i t to Brockvil l e and i s occa-

sion for some of the mobst agreeable incidents and good-tempered ref lect ions I*-

of the. ei ght-year period. B u t this ' ipterval -- *- of carefree wayfaring must

end, and as the party approaches the i r new home a t Brockville and the

prospect of a sedentary existence, Richardson fee l s "1 i ke a ,man going to

be hanged" ( p . 158). Settlement leads t o chronic depression: "My l i f e , "

says Richardson, "had ever been so completely .one of excitement, and I -had , \

3

been so much i n the habi t ' o f roaming unfettered about the world, t h a t the

idea of burying myself in t h i s secluded spot, t o which I f e l t myself t ied

: down by the a c t of purchase, had i n i t something appalling, and I can

safely say t h a t , during upwards of t w o ' years of my residence on i t , I . never was a s ingle day u t te r ly f ree from a vague and indefinable lowness

u

of s p i r i t s which, I am convinced, arose from my painful sense of the '

imprisonment. I had doomed myself t o undergo" ( p . ,158).

Several elements of hi s personal i,ty and s i tua t ion compounded Richard-

son ' s misery: he saw himself as an adventurer, and cer ta in ly as a gif ted

witness to history. Events of moment were not l ike ly t o d is turb the

t ran qui.1 vi 11 age l i f e he had e l ected,, nor were the a r i s tgc r ,

' a t i c personages

and the pol i t ica l d igni ta r ies whose careers so fascinated him l ike ly to

enliven i t s precincts. And his a r t depended on a romantic version of

experience a t odds w i t h the s e t t l e r ' s prosaic existence. B u t the most I

intolerable circumstances of h is "imprisonment" were his sequestration

among minds i 11 -equipped to appreciate his cul tura l superiority-: " ~ h e k e -

were moments when the idea of being buried a l ive , a s i t were, in this spot ,

without a poss ib i l i t y perhaps of ever again Seeing the beautiful f i e lds and

magnificent c i t i e s , and mixjng in the polished c i r c l e s of Europe, and of ;

matchless England in par t icu lar , came l i k e a blighting cloud upon my

thoughts, and f i l l e d me with a despondency no e f f o r t of my own could shake

o f f " (P . 159). So radical i s Richardson's a l ienat ion tha t the prose of 'T

t h i s episode repeatedly r e fe r s t o entrapment, f a t a l i t y and doom: s t a s i s i s -

, death, permanence as s t i f l i n g void. This i s a t r a v e l l e r ' s c r i s i s indeed,

when the optimistic wanderer i s suddenly snared by a s ingle , unchanging,

unutterable scene. Richardson f i n a l l y s e l l s up and moves on, incurring an

inconveniently large financial loss in paying f o r the pr ivi lege of hope

renewed.

The imaginative character of Richardson's journey necessarily sentences

h i s resident ial scheme to f a i lu re . A t Brockville he i s suddenly involved

in the material properties of the landscape -- house and f i e l d s , mortgage

and improvements -- and the. experiment is nearly f a t a l . I t i s another

Canada which when he r e v i s i t s the s i t e of

h is he surveys the scenes of

Wacousta. On almost every occasion the returning t o u r i s t f inds tha t time '

and change have disfigured -locale, b u t not t o the point of effacing the

scene as i t ex i s t s in imagination. Historical associations and personal

recollections share equal place with the account of the present-day journey

nostalgia i s an important

sense of his own temporal

s ight of a campaign in wh

of 1812, Richardson finds

have superseded scenes of

and comprise a substantial par t of the narrat ive. This deeply-felt

motif in Eight Years, expressing Richardson's

as well as geographical displacement. A t the

ich he had been personally involved in the War

regret table changes where industry and settlement

warfare: "My mind could not r e s i s t a cer tain

melancholy and sentiment of regret , t ha t these soliaudes in which of *

the most s t i r r i n g incidents of my l i f e had occurred should have been t h u s

invaded and destroyed" (p . 144). What other v i s i to r s might approve as a

peaceful prosperity , Richardson describes in be1 1 i cose terms as having

"invaded and destroyed" a private memory. Similarly, the sacred imagina-

t i v e s i t e of Wacousta has been offended. by, a disrespectful c iv i l i an

ascendancy: " I confess i t disappointment tha t I beheld

the ordinary habitations of which had been sanct i f ied

by time and t r ad i t ion , d hallowed by the sufferings of men reduced to 7" the l a s t extremity, by a savage and vindictive enemy" (p. 104).

These occasions, and many others in Eight Years in Canada, represent

a par t icu lar tendency i n the travel wr i t e r ' s a r t . Richardson's nostalgia

i s atypical of most North American travel writing of the period, b u t the

accompanying aes the t ic i s not. For Richardson, and fo r other sens i t ive Y

t r ave l l e r s , scene has meaning only insofar as i t supports cer ta in imagina-

t i v e -- and generally cohent ional -- projects of ,the tou r i s t s . Demo-

graphic and economic compl i cations impinge on the puri ty of the spectacle:

a f r inge of wharves desecrates the original l i ne of a riverbank, mil ls

d iver t waterways, heed1 ess populations crowd a once-sub1 ime wi 1 derness

or deface an h i s to r i c battle-ground with pacif ic signs of prosperity.

Often the t o u r i s t seeks a cer ta in genre picture and whether tha t picture

ca l l s f o r undefi 1 ed grandeur, pastoral idyl 1 , aboriginal nobi 1 i t y o r the

poignant echo of clashing armies, any obstructions to the view a re morally

culpable. The scene abroad e x i s t s ohly i n i t s aes the t ic dimension (and i t s

, aes the t ic f a i l u r e i s a l so i t s moral f a i lu re ) , and only in i t s capacity P

t o reply t o the wr i t e r ' s. 1 i t e rary sensi b i 1 i ty . Richardson's m i 1 i t a ry 0 ,

sentimentalism required a special kind of inspirat ion which most of his

Canadian experiences f a i 1 ed to y ie ld . Nearly every rev is i ted s i t e was

compromised by an intervening r e a l i t y produced by values Richardson de- P

spi sed. Wacousta could not be recovered from mid-ni neteenth century

Canada and, ra ther than romance, the eight-year sojourn produced pol i t ica l

polemics and the memoirs of a dis i l lusioned t rave l le r . There was no home-

coming here.

Eight Years in Canada i s a vehicle of i t s au thor ' s po l i t i ca l mentality,

and the narrative of h is t ravels i s often overwhelmed by his pol i t ica l

argument. Another 1 i terary product of the same period of his 1 i f e i 11 us-

t r a t e s more concisely the aes the t ic aspects of Richardson's journey-

making: Tecumseh and Richardson: The Story of a Trip to Walpole Island

and Port Sarnia was or ig ina l ly published as periodical l i t e r a t u r e in.1849,

and reprinted i n book form i n I924 a f t e r Richardson had been iden t i f i ed as

the anonymous author. I t s brevity and the consistency of i t s focus leave

some of Richardson's a r t i s t i c convictions more exposed and apparent then

they a re in Eight Years.

l.. **'*'f. Again, the t ravel mood i s c o m p r i s ~ o n a 1 n&a%j~d$ and regre t

for a noble past . The occasion of the v i s i t t o h Walp -land i s the

annual, o f f i c i a l disbursement of g i f t comnodi t i e s t o an

designated Indian t r ibes . (Mrs. Jameson was present a t such an event and \ recorded e6ual ly posit.ive impressions . ) I t i s a f i t t i n g opportunity f o r

Richardson's a r t , an event emerging full-blown from the past , the leading

figures costumed in antique regal fa and arranged i n in te res t ing poses.

A t Wal pole Is1 and Richardson's moral a t t i t udes a re agreeably exercised

by the scene his witnesses. The convened Indians a re , almost without ex-

ception, innocent of present-day influence and uncompromised by time and

change. An especial ly admirable chief , Shah-wah-wan-noo, "looked the

dignified Indian and the conscious warrior, whom no intercourse with the

white man could rob of h is native independence of character. " lo Clearly,

Richardson's enthusiasm f o r these aboriginal a r i s toc ra t s i s fanned by his

cofftempt for white colonial society and i t s dissolute influence. He re-

peats another man's expression of reverential regard f o r Indian cul ture

as representative of his own sensations:

We remember once hearing a well known, and scrupulously consis tent member of Parliament, s t a t e i n h i s place, tha t he so hated the white man -- the owner of the worthless acres of t h i s worthless country -- and liked the Indian, t ha t i f he had half a dozen daughters, he would give them to the l a t t e r i n preference. Such was almost my own feel-, i ng on the occasion (pp. 65-66).

Richardson gives himself up t o the scene the way the pxrl?ame

have given his daughters, and is i n f a c t in love w i t h the moment. A

t rans ien t b u t fervent a t t r ac t ion t o a youw Indian a th le t e even leads A

him to suppose tha t he i s himself admired. Indeed,-he i s so completely

absorbed by p ic t~resqu&ness t h a t he conceives o f en te r ing the p i c t u r e him-

se l f , t o grasp t h i s t ime and place: "I could w i l l i ngly pass my days among

them -- a son o f nature and sub ject on l y t o na tu re 's laws" (p. 71).

L i ke Mrs. Jameson, Richardson adopts His a t t i t u d e o f r a p t admirat ion t

o f Ind ian society no t i n preference t o the soph i s t i ca t i on o f E u r o p e m

c i v i l i zat ian b u t i n preference t o the "loathesome hypocrisy" o f

and impure colonia: soc ie ty . H is European s e n s i b i l i t y leads him t o embrace .

t h i s Walpole I s l and scene. Here h i s nos ta lg ic appe t i te f o r the past i s 4

appeased4 here, a t t h i s r a re conjunct ion o f t ime and place, the journey's

scene becomes a post o f the imaginat ion and someth-?ng s t i r r i n g l y beyond 1 r ea l l i f e .

Notes ra.

chapter 4

James J . and R u t h Talman, ".The Canadas 1763-1812," The Li te ra ry

History of Canada, ed. Carl F1. Klinck -(Toronto: U n i v . of Toronto, 1976),

p . 99. The Talmans note evidence to the e f f e c t t h a t Mrs. Brooke composed

a t l e a s t the major pa r t of Emily Montague.while she was in Canada. This d

not only au then t ica tes the book as a "North American" novel, b u t a l so

suggests t h a t the wr i t ing of t he book served f o r i t s author the socio-

rhe tor ica l purposes I have so f a r a t t r i bu t ed t o the t rave l genre, i . e .

e s tab l i sh ing and rnaintai ni ng a verbal connection with t h e t u l t u r e from

which .the wr i t e r has, been separated. 1

* Elizabeth Posthuma Simcoe, Diary, ed. Mary Quayle Innis (Toronto:

Neither was Mrs. Simcoe favourably impressed by the cu l tu ra l a t t a i n -

ments of the colonial population: " I l i v e with a s e t of people who I am

sure do not know more than myself, and therefore I 'have not t h e spur of

emulation t o make me endeavour t o acquire more knowledge, and a s the human

mlnd does not stand s t i l l , I f e a r you wi l l f ind me w r e ignorant when I

re turn than whm 1 s e t o u t " [Diary, p , 57).

Frances Brooke, The History of Emily Montague (Toronto: McCl e l 1 and

and Stewart , 1961 ) , D + W . A1 1 subsequent references w i 11 be t o t h i s

e d i t i o n .

For information on Anna Jameson's c a r ee r , I am indebted t o ~ l a r a '

Thomas, Love and Work Enough, the . ~ i f e of Anna Jameson, (Toronto: U n i v .

of Toronto Press , 1967) .

Anna Brownel 1 Jameson, Winter Studies and Sumner Rambles i n Canada

(Toronto : McCl e l 1 and and Stewart , l965) , p . 17. A1 1 subsequent references

will be t o t h i s e d i t i o n .

Thomas Chandler Hal ibur ton, The clockmaker: Or the Sayings and Do-

ings of Samuel S l i ck of S l i c k v i l l e (Toronto: McClelland and Stewart , 1958),

p . 28. A1 1 subsequent references wi l l be t o t h i s e d i t i o n .

Thomas Chandler Hal i burton, The Old Judge: Or Li fe i n a Colony

(Toronto: Clarke, Irwin, 1968), p . 3. All subsequent references wi l l be ,

t o t h i s ed i t i on .

' John Richardson, Eight Years i n Canada (New York: Johnson Rpt.,

19673, p . 11 . A1 1 subsequent references w i 11 be t o this e d i t i o n .

"John Richardson, Tecumseh and Richardson: The Story of a Tr ip t o

'dalpole Island and Port Sarnia (Toronto: Ontario Book Company, 1924),

p p . 62-63 . Subsequent references wi l l be t o this ed i t i on . 3

Chapter 5

Staying On: Catharine Parr Trail 1 ,

Susanna Moodie and Frances Trollope

When Frances Brooke wrote her account of Quebec, Canada suggested to

European readers novel adventure and strange spectacle. B u t Wi 11 iam

Fermor's l e t t e r s on emigration pol icy ant icipate the introduction of l e s s

exot ic concerns t o Canadian travel writ ing. His l e t t e r s a re forerunners

of l a t e r documents 1 i ke John Gal t ' s Bogle Corbet (1831) and Tiger Dunlop's

+? S t a t i s t i c a l Account of Upper Canada (1 832) which address more comprehen-

s ively the issue of permanent residence and, as a r e s u l t , wear a much more

.prosaic countenance than Mrs. Brooke's romance of New World ventures.

These l a t e r books take on the responsibi l i ty of informing the reader nbt \

j u s t about wilderness tourism but about domestic l i f e in Canada as well.

he rhetorical pretext behind many df these l a t e r volumes i s t h a t the reader

may himself make the journey to the New World -- a journey previously

undertaken only by romantic, destined voyagers. Thus, the books served t

as manuals or guides. Yet t h e i r audience was much broader than the group

of would-be emi g$ants who would have read them f o r specialized information.

Certain aspects of the books themselves t e s t i f y to @ i s la rger appeal : -L

?arody and w i t i n D u n l o p t s S t a t i s t i c a l Account addressed readers uncon-,

c e m d with h i s comicte~ed instruct ions and advice; i n the midst-of sub-

s t an t i a l data and thoughtful counsel in Bogle Corbet, Galt develops some

comic and sentimental f ic t ions which could have been of no practical use

21 3

t o prospective s e t t l e r s . These manuals, with t h e i r expository authori-

t a t i veness and imaginative embell i shments , appealed to the European reader 's

1 i terary i n t e r e s t in the New World and to h is t a s t e fo r documents re la t ing

to t'rans-At1 ant i c travel . Gal t and Dunlop both deal with residential concerns, with the problems

of staying on i n a foreign place. And the three travel l e r s whose writings

I will discuss in t h i s cha.pter a1 1 share one important aspect of t h e i r

North American experience: they a l l had to s tay here. Catharine Parr

Tra i l l and Susanna Moodie remain-ently in Canada; Frances Trollope's

sojourn in the United Sta tes included a two-year residence a t Cincinnati. - For Mrs. Moodie and Mrs. Trollope, residence prompted t h e i r a r t to urgent

measures to counterbalance t h e i r feelings of displacement and to make

di r ec t rhetorical appeal to the world they had l e f t behind. For Mrs.

Trai 11 , residence was an occasion f o r methodical notation of the new place I

t o which she d come. In each case, the l i t e r a r y a c t i v i t y of the t r ave l l e r

was an agent of social and cul tural connection, b u t t h ~ question comes

down to th i s : to what place did the wri ter connect herself by her a r t ?

Did narrative distinguish and i s o l a t e the a r t i s t from the location i n

which she found herse l f , or did i t introduce'and assimilate her into i t ?

The former e f f ec t pertains to Mrs. Moodie and Mrs. Trollope, the l a t t e r

to Mrs. T r a i l l , and the evident difference i s a l so the d is t inc t ion between

a t r a v e l l e r l i k e John Richardson and a journey-maker l i k e William Bartram.

Documentation, in travel narrat ive, i s a process by which the t r ave l l e r

declares the form of his relatedness to the foreign place. In the writing

of Wi 11 iarn Bartram and Mrs. Trai 11, documentation i s .specif ic , concrete

21 5 l

and def in i t ive ; by knowing closely, they establ ish themselves here, or

any place, adapting t o new conditions .. In the wri t in2 of Mrs. Moodie and

Mrs. Trol lope: documentation is- general, impressionistic and anecdotal ;

i t i s a way of r e i t e ra t ing values denied o r contradicted by the foreign

milieu. These wri ters are comfortably ins ta l led only a t home. Mrs

Trollope returned home i n f a c t ; Mrs. Moodie e te rna l ly regretted her separa-

t ion from her home, but a t l e a s t knew where i t was; John Richardson, in

his di sappoi nted expectations and f r u i t l e s s wanderings, only knew with

cer tainty tha t home was not in ~ a n a d a .

Catharine Parr T r a i l l ' s The Backwoods of Canada and Susanna Moodie

Roughing I t in the Bush are books which a r i s e out of t h e i r authors ' sim

experience and background. Mrs. Tra i l l and Mrs. Moodie were s i s t e r s and

shared the same genteel l i t e r a r y education provided by an English family

of l e t t e r s and cul tural refinement; both were married to r e t i r ed Bri t ish

o f f i ce r s . They arrived in Canada within a month of each other, in the

s u r m r of 1832; they s e t t l e d near each other in the same d i s t r i c t of Upper

Canada. They +each recorded the experience of emigration and t h e i r composi - t ions do not d i f f e r subs tant ia l ly in f a c t o r occasion: f o r both, the

event of relocation was inspirat ion t o a r t , and both wrote in the expository

mode of travel memoir. B u t there the s imi l a r i t i e s end. Through The Back- - woods of Canada, Mrs. Tra i l l declared the t ransfer of her attachments and

i n t e r e s t t o things new and present; through Roughing I t , Yrs. Moodie lamented

the absent, and reconstructed b e r connection with i t .

Mrs. Trail1 ' s account of settlement l i f e was published in England i n

1836; The Backwoods of Canada i s developed as a se r i e s of letters-home, and

i t r e l a t e s the par t icu lars of the wr i t e r ' s foreign adventure in a s t ra ight -

forward way, admitting 1 i t t l e anecdotal material which would d iver t the

frank narrat ive l ine . The book, however, i s thqmatically shaped by an

uncomplicated s tory of i t s author 's consciousness of her new l i f e , and

her progressive in te l lec tua l adventure i n the New World.

When she ar r ives i n Lower Canada, Mrs. Trail1 ' s point of view i s

i n i t i a l l y tha t of the s ightseer . - - detached, c r i t i c a l and comparative. A t

Qugbec she admires the c i t ade l , b u t when she turns t o the other shore to

survey. Point Levis, she expresses a discriminating d issa t i s fac t ion . The

natural scener.y, she concedes, i s "highly picturesque", b u t the whole view

somewhat infer ior :

. . . i n my opinion, much l e s s i s done with t h i s romantic s i tua t ion than might be effected i f good t a s t e were exercised in the buildings, and on the disposal' of the ground. How lovely ould such a spot be rendered in Engl and o r Scot1 and! 'I

Her complaint i s not unprecedented;other European tou r i s t s expressed

s imilar reservations in s imilar s i tua t ions . A t t h i s stage in her journey

Mrs. Trai 11 speaks from within the aes the t ic frame of the 1 i terary t r ave l l e r

and her assumptions a re typical . "Much less i s done;" " i f good t a s t e were

exercised:" "how.lovely would such a spot be rebdered," she wri tes , and

her language suggests t h a t picturesqueness i s not the r e s u l t of a propitious

conjunction of natural spectacle with human industry b u t the del iberate --

productfon of cul t ivated t a s t e , and l i t t l e more than decorous landscape

gardening. She resolves t o avoid such mistakes of arrangement in her own

endeavour.

B u t a cer tain self-consciousness dawns when, a t a l a t e r stage in the

journey, she announces her decorative intentions t o fel low wagon-passengers:

9

"I could see a smile hover on the l i p s of my fellow-travellers on hearing

of our projected plans fo r the adornment of our future dbelling" ( p . 34) .

She i s learning tha t she ca r r i e s some encumbering and dispensable f re ight

in her baggage. She does not abandon her aes the t ic convictions, b u t she

does revise t h e i r appl icat ion t o reduce obstructive f r i c t i o n as she t rave ls

into the bush towards the s i t e of her project.

Most ~uropean tou r i s t s were disgusted by the who

@in the new sett lements, which preserved neither shady

B u t Mrs. Tra i l l quickly learns t h a t these unsightly s 9

1 esa le 1 and-clearing

arbor nor bosky grove.

tumps and blasted

wastes are only apparently ugly, once the rat ionale behind the practice

i s understood. Informational exposition draws the spectator in to her sub-

j e c t and s h i f t s her point of view: "Thereare several su f f i c i en t reasons to

be given fo r t h i s seeming want of tas te" ( p . 7 l ) , she informs her English

correspondent and thus shows herself t o have advanced much far ther into

North American experience than she had when she viewed from an anchored

ship the unlovely i r r egu la r i ty of the settlements a t Point Levis. An

imported Old World t a s t e will sustain the t r a v e l l e r ' s narrat ive, b u t the

s e t t l e r needs a much more e l a s t i c aes the t ic . As Yrs. Tra i l l proceeds to-

wards her dest inat ion, a thoroughly funct ional i s t a t t i t u d e takes thp place

of unadapted t a s t e in her observations.

Near to t h i s m o d i f i c a t i o ~ of aes the t ; '~ , which inquires in to the

economy of the picturesque, i s the change of narrat ive perspective i n

Backwoods. In the f i r s t phases of her North American journey, Mrs. Trail 1 >

views scenery from a fa r ; she disembarks a t neither Grosse I s l e nor Q d b e c ,

and only a t Wontreal does she f i n a l l y go ashore. She comnents nevertheless

on the appearances of Lower Canada:

In the lower division of the Province you feel t ha t the industry of the inhabitants i s forcing a churlish so i l f o r bread; while in the upper, the land seems wil l ing t o y ie ld her increase t o a moderate exertion. Remember, these a re merely the cursory remarks of a passing t r ave l l e r , and founded on no personal experience (P . 24).

B u t her cursory impressions a re not randomly offered. As part of the whole

thematic direct ion of her ngrrative, they are firmly connected with the

development of her vis ion, which soon el iminates vague grandeurs in favour

of more spec i f ic considerations. She f inds, as she penetrates the hinter-

land, more t o please her eye and exc i te her imagination:

With the exception of Qugbec and Montreal, I must gi the preference to the Upper Province. If not & grand a sca le , the scenery i s more calculated t o !please, from the appearance of industry and f e r t i 1 i ty i t 'displays . I am del ighted, in travel1 ing along the road, w i t h the neatness, c leanl iness , and comfort of the cottages and farms ( p . 29) .

The broader view gradually contracts to the narrower, here focussing on

properties 1 i ke "neatness" and "clean1 iness" -- qua l i t i e s smaller and more

concise than sub1 imi ty and grandness. These simpler signs a re indications

of the domestic discourse to follow, and the s h i f t t o such compact evidences 4

in prose narrat ive r e f l ec t s the gbserver 's a t ten t ive entry into the spec i f ic

conditions of th@spectacle, As Mrs. Trail1 approaches the goal of her t

journey, she i s gradually incorporated into the scene and she accepts the

values i t s d ic ta tes . Simul taneously, her prose abandons the general t o

embrace the par t icu lm. The obsolete residuum o f t a s t e which was an i m -

practicaBle vestige of an Old World sens ib i l i t y i s dismissed along with

generalization.

By the end of Backwoods, vision and experience a re so specified and

funnelled as t o focus with in tens i ty on the very minutiae of the organic

-, landscape and the d e t a i l s of domestic organization. One long l e t t e r -

chapter i s devoted en t i r e ly to exhaustive description of plant cul ture

observed i n . the v i c in i ty of the Trai 11 homestead, re la t ing the subt les t

d e t a i l s of fo l i a t ion o r leafy ser ra t ions , and ant icipat ing Mrs. Tra i l l ' s

l a t e r work i n botany. And as the narrat ive draws to a close, recipes

abound, and become form of intimate, colloquial address to the reader,

\ explaining not only he appearance of l i f e in the bush b u t a l so i t s most

elemental doings . Thus Mrs. Trai 11 proceeds from uncertain expectations .

informed by inapplicable principles of European t a s t e , t o the essential

s t ruc ture of r e a l i t y and her own business with i t .

Mrs. Tra i l l ' s documentation of her experience in the New World serves

a constructive purpose in t h a t each l e t t e r contributes t o a progressively

augmented vision of her location. In her f ina l le t ter-chapter , she explains

her a t t i t u d e towards her foreign experience, and, impl ic i t ly , the function

of her 1 i t e rary temperament, which c a l l s for systematic asser t ion:

I t has ever been my way t o ex t rac t the sweet rather than the b i t t e r in the cup of l i f e , and surely i t i s best and wisest 'so to do. In a country where constant exertion i s cal led f o r from a l l ages and degrees .of s e t t l e r s , i t would be foolish to a degree to sap our energies by complaints, and cas't a gloom over our homes by s i t t i n g dejectedly down to lament f o r a l l t ha t was so dear to us in the old country (p. 114).

As Mrs. Trai 11 ' s s i s t e r so f luent ly demonstrates in her own memoirs, emi - gration can be occasion fo r a r t i s t i c indulgence of the most inexorable

!

regre t fo r "a l l t ha t was dear" i n another time and place. B u t , in Mrs.

Trai 11 ' s vipw, such a t t i t udes a re assumed only a t , the expense of energy

220 -

P.

and success, f o r they court weakness and f a i lu re . For Mrs. T r a i l l , power

and survival reside in assimi 1 a t ion and adaptation. For Susanna Moodie,

conformity to conditions and adaptation of Tanners and t a s t e mean not

survival b u t the loss of s e l f . \

Mrs. Trail 1 comes t o the bush as to a s i t e so f a r innocent of l i t e r a r y

notation. She organizes this new property in expository language, and

ra i ses there a verbal s t ruc ture to accommodate her subsequent experience

i n a land aes the t ica l ly uncharted. The archi tecture of t h i s s t ruc ture i s

pragmatic, and indigenous in materials i f not in ornamentation. Art and

l i f e require no d is t inc t ion in t h e i r consummate re la t ion: . a well-put

recipe i s the most vernacular and r e a l i s t i c of formal prose fragments, and

pioneer cookery the most germane o f a r t s . And, as functional aesthet ics

render in t e r io r s , so too i s the ex ter ior , natural domain rendered. Mrs.

T ra i l1 promotes botany (which includes notation) as an aes the t ic and

moral ac t iv i ty :

My dear boy seems already to have a t a s t e f o r flowers, which I shal l encourage as much as possible. I t i s a study tha t tends to re f ine and purify the mind, and can be made, by simple s teps, a ladder to heaven, as i t were, by teaching a chi ld to look with love and admira- t ion to tha t bountiful God who created and made flowers so f a i r t o adorn and f ruc t i fy t h i s ear th , ( p . 92 ) .

Her l i t e r a r y and s c i e n t i f i c projects have a moral purpose, and the conduct

of a wholesome and innocent l i f e en ta i l s t h i s incessant cognition. , Impor-

t an t here i s t ha t Mrs. T r a i l l ' s habits of perception a re empirical and I

invest igat ive and neither sentimental nor romantic: what - i s i s the material

of her a r t , and the most d i rec t ly comprehensive representation of the

whole i s her idiom. She avoids f igurat ive o r abs t rac t dict ion and gains,

as a r e s u l t , a concentration which draws the measure of the beautiful into

the new radius of her own experience. Ice-fishing and sugar-boiling are

both picturesque a c t i v i t i e s , par t icular ly when substantiated by an explana-

t ion of method. The rational behind f ron t i e r pract ices , once disclosed,

gives mundance operations significance and form. Even the monitoring of

a refuse f i r e a t t r a c t s her enthusiasm: "strange as i t may appear t o you,

there i s no work tha t i s more in te res t ing and exci t ing than tha t of tending

the log-heaps, rousing up the dying flames and closing them i n , and supply-

i n g the f i r e s with fresh fuel" (p. 69).

Mrs. Trai 11 ' s pleasure in adaptation to new conditions leads her to

a comparatively generous estimate of community l i f e in the bush. Her

sketch of the s e t t l e r s ' neighbourhood does not d i f f e r in essent ia l s from

versions by other wr i te rs , but i t does d i f f e r in i t s easy acquiescence in !

prevailing social phenomena:

There i s a constant excitement on the minds of emigrants, par t icu lar ly in the pa r t i a l ly se t t l ed townships, t ha t greatly a s s f s t s i n keeping them from desponding. The ar r iva l of some enterpris ing person gives a stimulus to those about him: a profi table speculation i s s t a r t ed , and lo , the value of the land i n the v ic in i ty r i s e s t o double and t r eb le what i t was thought worth before; so t h a t , with- out any design of befriending his neighbours, the schemes of one s e t t l e r being carr ied in to e f f e c t sha l l ,benefi t a great number. We have already f e l t the beneficial e f f e c t of the access of respectable emigrants locating themselves

' in t h i s township, as i t has already increased the value of our own land in a three-fold degree (pp. 94-95).

Mrs. Trail1 i s as aware as other observers o f the individualism of the

typical s e t t l e r , and of his se l f - in t e res t . p u t she has an addi t ional ,

sympathetic recogmi t i on of causes ~ h i c h few other wri t e r s share. She

perceives a coherence of economic and property i n t e r e s t as an instance

,of social s t ruc ture and community, representing the aspirat ions of the --. .-

i nd ihdua l . She sees her own in t e res t s ref lected in those around her, and,

consequently, experiences none of the excruciating isolation and lone1 i - ness which we have already seen in Haliburton and Richardson, and in Anna

Jameson, and which we will discover in Susanna Moodie. Even her l i terary

proclivities do not effectively distinguish her from her fellows, and

her feelings of cultural assimilation -- or , a t leas t , the absence of

overt feelings of cultural a1 ienation -- must proceed from her 1 i terary

sensibi 1 i ty. Her documentary aesthetic finds fulfilment in locale; her

environment securely attaches her

1s led him to few s i t e s spiritua

where her eye rests and her pen

attentive and relentless survey of her

i t . Like William Bartram, whose trave

foreign to him, Mrs. Trailq i s a t home

describes . /'

-- /'

For the most part, Mrs. Traill ' s narrative voice i s subordinate to

her material, residing within and fully expressed by her subject. As a

character in l i tera ture she i s certainly less obtrusive and probably less

important than her rest less s i s t e r . B u t she does t e l l a personal story in

The. Backwoods of Canada. I t begins as the travel 1 e r ' s memoi r , develops as

the s e t t l e r ' s t a le , and final ly ends as the natural i st-observer's report.

I t thus casts her in three roles: f i r s t as the educated tour is t viewing

an a1 ien landscape, then as the actor establishing a productive scene,

and finally as a witness once more b u t this time a witness proCbundly

familiar with the scene and absorbed by i t . So continuous are these devel-

opments, and so negl i ble thematically are incidental crises, that Mrs.

Traill emerges much less as a heroine than as- an a r t i s t treating competently

w i t h a world in which she establishes her own place.

- --A - A - - - L - % -**L9% --

I I

A1 though Susanna Moodie's Roughing I t ' i n the B u s h recall; the same

period in the family's history as Backwoods does, and considers materially

s imilar conditions in the same d i s t r i c t , i t was not published unt i l 1852,

sixteen years a f t e r Mrs. Trai 11 ' s vol ume appeared. A1 1 of Mrs. Trai 11 ' s

par t

the

j u s t

d i s t

1 e t t e r s have the impri n t of contemporanei ty wi t h the c i rcumstances they

describe, and her documentary purpose thr ives on this temporal proximi ty

of subject to report . Roughing I t , on the other hand, i s fur ther from log-

keeping and i s modulated by the interval which separates the e v y t from

- report . Parts of i t may have been drafted during Mrs. Moodie's five-year

residence in the bush, b u t many chapters a r e organized around a retro-

spective pr inciple , and a1 1 develop from her sense of each episode being

of a whole s tory fully-conceived by i t s author. The postponement of

f ina l 1 i terary arrangement of these crucial events in her 1 i f e invi tes

the kind of emotional rumination and narrative excursiveness tha t

inguishes Mrs. Moodie's version of experience from Mrs. T r a i l l ' s .

She se t s out , too, with d i f f e ren t aes the t ic preoccupations. She

has l i t t l e of her s i s t e r ' s i n t e re s t i n the small morphologies of the natural

world, b u t she does not neglect nature 's larger surfaces. She comes to

the New World equipped with a ready comnand of the expressive sentiments

of nature description. On her way u p t o the S t . Lawrence, she i s moved to

tears a t the subl imit ies she witnesses, and her prose then rushes to super-

l a t ives . A t Qugbec, she i s -not only visually taken but emotionally and

sp i r i tua l ly overcome:

The me1 low and serene glow of the autumnal day harmonized so perfect ly with the solemn grandeur of the scene around me, and sank so s i l e n t l y and deeply in to my soul , t h a t my

s p i r i t f e l l prostrate before i t , and I melted invol- untar'ily in to tears .... my soul a t t ha t moment was alone wi t h God. The shadow of His glory rested v is ib ly on '

the stupendous objects t h a t compound tha t magnificent scene; words a re perfectly inadequate to describe the impression i t made upon my mind -- the emotions i t produced. The only homage I was capable-of offer ing a t such a shr ine was tears -- t ears the r n ~ s t ~ h e a r t f e l t and \ sincere t h a t ever flowed from human eyes. --.

In t h i s passage which i s typical of many through the f i r s t chapters

of Roughing I t , i s a focus conspicuously d i f fe rent from Nrs. T r a i l l ' s . Mrs.

Moodie does enumerate the s t r ik ing elements of the "astonishing panorama"

but her description l ingers on no par t icu lar aspect and races impetuously

to the real drama of the scene -- her own c l a s s i c trauma of appreciation.

Even then words seem "perfectly inadequate" f o r the task. Words a re always

adequate for Mrs. T r a i l l ' s needs, f o r she spends few of them on the emotive /

1 aspects of scenery and fewer s t i l l on her own response, and invests them

instead in matter-of-fact inquiry into the apparent physical and economic

s t ructures which cause the scene to be shaped as i t i s . The meaning of

the visual passage t o the hinterland resides f o r her in the signs i t yields

to define her own looked-to place i n the scene -- i t s agricul tural practice,

i t s domestic archi tecture, a l l i t s indigenuous a c t i v i t y as revealed in out-

ward forms. Her s i s t e r , meanwhile, i s tear fu l ly prostrate , e c s t a t i c with

aes the t i c happi nesses , and heed1 ess of portentous part i cul a rs . Mrs. Moodie's 1 i terary pleasure i n landscape never an t ic ipa tes her

( own actual incorporation in to scene, as her s i s t e r ' s does,' and remains

always expressible by the aes the t ic of the t r ave l l e r . The ruling conf l i c t

in Roughing I t l i e s between t h i s travel aes the t ic and the s e t t l e r ' s destiny.

In this book and in i t s sequel, Life i n the Clearings, i t seems tha t Mrs.

tdoodie never rea l ly learned, temperamental l y , t ha t the journey was done

and travel concluded. Like John Richardson, who struggled and ranted ,

against the residence which interrupted his mobility, Mrs. Moodie expects,

a t l e a s t unconsciously, t ha t there has been some mistake and t h a t she must

f ina l ly turn back and resume her route. 6 v i o u s l y , she was pinioned by

manifest evidence to the contrary, and the distance between these two poles

of mind -- the imaginati,on o f . travel and the real izat ion of s t a s i s -- i s J

intermit tent ly resolved in Roughing I t by morbidity. Death i s an important

sub-theme i n t h i s book, and in i t s sequel, and has r e than one expressive ?& function. B u t the idea of death i s especially important i n a l l ev ia t ing

'the emotional exciterrent of homesickness by suggesting a mystic rather tha (" actual re turn, a homing of sp i r i ' t ,rather than person to an ear thly paradise.

Thus Yrs. Yoodie addresses "dear, dear England," and ionceives of a kind

of post-mortem sa t i s f ac t ion impossible in real l i f e : "Oh tha t I might be ,

permitted t o return and die upon your wave-encirfk'd shores, and r e s t my

weary head and heart beneath your dai sy-covered sod a t l a s t ! " ( p . 56)

Str iking here, besides the pathos of the death-wish contesting w i t h the

more vi gorous injunctions of real i t y , i s the exclamatory ?resent tense:

a f t e r a residence in Canada of twenty years, Mrs. Moodie expresses the

anguish and helplessness of a new comer.

Her ref lect ions on l e t t e r s from h m , and on the gradual, fa teful

diginishment o f t he i r nmbers, suggest that for a long w h i l e she did not

w i ; ~ believe she was here t o s tay : '

After seven years ' ex i l e , the hope of return grows feeble, the mans a r e s t i 11 less i n o u r power, and our friends give up a7 1 hope o f our return; t h e i r l e t t e r s grow fewer a n d c o l d e r , t he i r expression of attachment

less vivid; the heart has formed new t i e s , and the poor emigrant i s nearly forgotten. Double those years , and i t i s as i f the grave had closed over you, and the hearts -that once knew and-loved you know you no more ( p . 91 ) .

The "hope of return" i s a durable one, on both s ides of the breach, b u t ?

i t s dissolution i s f i n a l l y inevi table . Emigration, in , i t s permanent and '

serious form, i s a type of death -- and i t i s the s e t t l e r and not the

English correspondent who i s consigned t o a lonejy grave. Return and home-

coming are the prerogatives of the t r ave l l e r b u t not the s e t t l e r , and in Mrs.

39 Moodie's view tha t ant ic ipated howcoming i s the basis f o r comnunication

between the Old World and the New. To acknowledge the f i n a l i t y of her

ex i le i s t o give up the hope of return, and also to su f fe r the exhang; of

l e t t e r s to dwindle and end. The loss she laments i s par t ly a loss of love:

the erstwhile f r iend not only writes l e s s often, b u t with lesslwarmth and

less i n t e r e s t as others f i l l the vacanciGes l e f t by the departed b o d i e s .

B u t associated with subsiding affect ions i s the grievous s i lence which

marks the i rrevocabl e separatl from home. The comnuni ca t i ve transactions

between the New World and the "2 Old sus ain the emigrant in her foreign '

e x i l e , and maintain her attachment, however attenuated o r un rea l i s t i c , to-

t n e society where she i s "known" and from which she derives her ident i ty . \

The interrupt ion of t h i s v i ta l comnunication ik, the severance of a l i f e - ',

l i n e and a sentence to deathly anonymity:' " i t i s as i f the grave had

c losed over you, and the hearts t ha t once knew and lovgd you know you no 3

-

mre.'' I f we can see thislconnecting, epis tolary current as a survival - - - - - - -

-~cnan i sn , we can see t i e inportance of the la rger verbal enterprise --

qouqh ing I t dr Life in the Clearings -- in restoring overseas connections. .-- , ? a t ' h o w o f return" mi) disappear in r e a l i t y , but i t can be renewed

rhe tor ica l ly by a l i t e r a r y comunication to an Old World audience. The

conceit of travel i s revived.

In dispatching a successful communication t o English readers, the

wri ter cu l t iva tes her original cul tural and social values, keeping a t an

objective distance the New World a t t i t udes which would dispossess her of

these imported asse ts . Only a peculiar strength of mind can assure the

emigrant 's success in t h i s matter, and i n her introduction to Roughing I t

Mrs. Moodie describes in a revealing way the s e t t l e r s ' departure: "they

g i r d up the loins of the mind, and arm themselves with fo r t i t ude to meet

and dare the heart-breaking conf l ic t" ( p . xv). This suggests l i t t l e in

the way of optimistic assimilation and adaptation on which Mrs. Trail1

thrived: the " loins of the mind" girded u p , the displaced Englishwoman

prepares f o r mortal resis tance against the subversive influences of an

a l ien land. Refusing t o capi tu la te to the society in to which she i s rudely 1

t h rus t , the re1 uctant emigrant in te rna l izes a l l those native ins t i tu t ions

which had once supported her. She thus remains the t r ave l l e r , never sur-

rendering t o the determinants of her new milieu.

This i s , however, only one view of the "heart-breaking conf l ic t" and

one which contains the seeds of d i s t r e s s and mental ?urnmil. Th-ere a re

a1 ternat ives to i t , which permit the imnobilized t r ave l l e r some resp i te

from traumatic rest lessness and death-wishing. Mrs. Moodie i s qui te aware

of the dangers i n unrelenting regre t , and she i s too l ive ly and r e s i l i e n t

a ?ersonal i ty t o confine her 1 i terary expression t o such mods. Early

i n Roughing I t , she addresses "Brit ish mothers of Canadian sons" and

advises them t o ins t ruc t t h e i r children in the posi t ive aspects of their

colonial birthplace and to i n s t i l l a heal t h y Canadian chauvinism in the

next generation. This, she says, will benefit not only the offspring b u t *

the mother as we1 1 : "you wi1,l soon learn to love Canada as I now love i t ,

who once viewed i t with hatred so intense tha t I longed t o d ie , t ha t

death might effectual l y separate us fo r ever" (p. 30). Learning to 1 ove

Canada i s the process of becoming a resident instead of a t r a v e l l e r , in

practice i f not in s p i r i t . And she goes on with one more h in t on re l in-

quishing the t r a v e l l e r ' s e thic: "But, oh! beware of drawing disparaging

contrasts between the colony and i t s i l l u s t r ious parent" ( p . 3 ) . Mrs.

Moodie i s herself never f ree of suggesting the sur rept i t ious contrast ,

wi t h i t s understood disparagement of the colony and unqual i f ied reverence

for the mother country, b u t she does' reach a position where a t l e a s t the

desire to die subsides. This i s par t ly achieved through some na t iona l i s t i c

rhe tor ic ,of the type she recommends t o "Bri t ish mothers of Canadian sons,"

b u t in much larger par t i s a t t r ibu tab le to her s a t i r e . Her comic g i f t s

cer tainly efface some of her morbidity, b u t without rupturing tha t

essent ial aes the t ic and social connection with her Engl ish audience.

The laugh i s def in i te ly on the North American, even when Mrs. Moodie i s

the apparent victim of the reported incidents. The objects of her w i t a re

patently too ignorant and morally inexperienced t o see the joke, which r?

i s told f o r the entertainment of a European reader who shares her sen$\, il '

of humour. ,

In Roughing I t in the Bush, l i f e i s most hi lar ious when i t i s m o s L

dreadful. A t Coburg, the Moodies endure unexpectedly mean conditions in

an insanely inhospitable neighbourhood. Mrs. Moodie i s surrounded by unre- -

generate "savages," n o t of t he a b o r i g i n a l k i n d b u t o f t h e Yankee s q u a t t e r

type, who harass h e r w i t h outrageous rudeness. So exaggerated are these

charac ters i n t h e i r o u t l a n d i s h greed and unscrupulousness t h a t t he epi-sodes

which t r e a t t h i s p a r t o f New World experience c r e a t e a l u n a t i c , lawless

wor ld a t t h e c e n t r e o f which i s t h e sane, astonished Mrs. Moodie. A l l

s o c i a l and moral p r i n c i p l e s a re i n v e r t e d i n an a n t i c parody o f t he l i f e

she has known; as she was respected and regarded i n England, here she i s

apparent ly r e v i l e d and loa thed. I n an a l i e n l a n d where she i s " the s t r a n -

ger whom they hated and despised" (p. 120), she i s powerless t o a1 t e r h e r

circumstances, and can o n l y laugh and submit. Rebuke i s f u t i l e i n t h i s

dese r t o f " ignorance and s i n " where t h e moral vo ice echoes empt i l y . As

John Richardson' had t o suppress h i s i n d i gnat jon and resentment, f i n d i n g

no forum i n Amherstburgh f o r h i s pronounced ideas, so Susanna Moodie learns

t o be q u i e t a t Coburg, b u t voc i fe rous i n h e r l i t e r a r y l i f e . P a r t i c u l a r l y

vexing t o he r i s t h e l o c a l p r a c t i c e o f addressing genteel s e t t l e r s as "man"

and "woman," and "bare-legged I r i s h servants" as "'mem"' and " ' s i r , "I b u t

she comes t o see i t p h i l o s o p h i c a l l y : " it i s very irksome u n t i l you t h i n k

more deeply upon i t; and then i t serves t o amuse r a t h e r than i r r i t a t e "

(p . 140). I r r i t a t i o n achieves noth ing ; amusement a t l e a s t produces a

c i v i l i z e d c r i t i q u e o f a barbarous custom, and many humorous d ia logues when

the canny innocent, Mrs. Moodie, matches w i t s w i t h an a r r a y o f impu@nt

r u s t i c s . Mrs. Moodie's comedy i s s o c i a l comedy, a r i S i n g f rom t h e se r ious t r a v e l

i ssue o f s o c i a l i nsubord ina t ion . Comedy defends t h e i n s u l t e d emigrant and

her of fended values by r i d i c u l i n g t h e h o s t i l e s o c i e t y i n which she f i n d s

herself . I t imp1 i c i t l y exercises a European social and moral standard,

and without the perpetual comparison of the New World to the Old there

would be no joke. The fun l i e s in the application of a superior i n t e l l i -

gence which knows both the t rue s t ruc ture of society and i t s ludicrous

mutation in Upper Canada. The narrative voice of Life in the Clearings

speaks, fo r the most pa r t , in t h i s knowing, wry tone.

Mrs. Moodie wrote Life in the Clearings in 1852, when she had been

in Canada twenty years, most of which she' had spent not in the bush b u t a t

el l ev i l l e . The occasion of Clearings i s a pleasure t r i p t o Niagara, and

the travel forum is here unequivocal , with none of the di f f icul t ambi- B

valences which a f f e c t the posit ive value of mobility in Roughing I t . Never- - the less , the l a t e r book has more i n c o m n with i t s predecessor than one

'L

might suppose, and, in f a c t , the f ina l form of both books emerged from the

same period of Mrs. Moodie's career. A1 though the journey-event in

Clearings i s the tour to the f a l l s , much more of the narrat ive focusses

on Bel lev i l le , Mrs. Moodie's home, than on s ights m u t e . Bel lev i l le , 7.. .*

in s p i t e of her long residence there, i s as curious and foreign a phenome-

non as the l e s s famil iar scenes encountered along the way.

One of the subjects of Mrs. Moodie's discourse t h i s time i s the cul-

tural division which separates her own sens ib i l i t y from the ethos of

Canadian towns. Sheis 'par t icu lar ly concerned, as many European t rave l le rs

are , w i t h analysis of the transmutation of c lass and of d is t r ibut ion of

power and s t a tus in t h i s new society. She i so la tes the materialism of

colonial cul ture as the most inf luent ia l fac tor in the corruption of

t radi ti onal values :

Uneducated, ignorant people often r i s e by t h e i r i n - dustry t o great wealth in the colony; t o such the preference shown to the educated man always seems a. puzzle. Their ideas of gen t i l i t y consist in being the owners of f ine clothes, the f ine houses, splendid furni ture , expensive equi pages, and pl enty of money ( P . 41). L

The "educated man" i s a member of a social ly disenfranchised minority in

the colony, required t o submit not only to a prevailing want of t a s t e but

a lso to the moral ignorance of his mental infer iors . Nevertheless, Mrs.

Moodie i s convinced of the existence of an incorruptible cul tural hier-

archy, which exercises an inalienable sovereignty under even the most

adverse conditions: "The lady and gentleman in Canada are as d i s t inc t ly

marked as elsewhere. There i s no mistaking the superior i ty t h a t mental

cu l t iva t ion bestows.. . . " (p . 38)

Such a conviction i s an invaluable device i n gainsaying the e f f ec t s

of an inhospitable cul tural cl imate and offensive economic s t ructure.

. Armed with t h i s confidence, Mrs. Moodie can confront with good humour even

the most blatant disparagements conferred on a woman of l e t t e r s by an

i 11 i t e r a t e 'society:

The idea tha t some country people form of an author i s highly amusing. One of my boys was tauntingly

. L told by another lad a t school, " tha t h is ma' sa id t h a t - M r s . M-- invented l i e s , and got money for them." This

was her estimation of works of mere f i c t ion (p-. 4 2 ) .

Even i f she can shrug off these taunts , Mrs. Moodie's a r t cannot address

such a population and must revert t o an audience which shares .her own idea

of l i t e r a t u r e , and her own vision of society. She sees herself very d i s -

t i n c t l y as a member of a sanctioned c lass , but one which happens t o be

unrecognized by the anomalous society t o which f a t e has assigned her. In 3

this, her s i tua t ion resembles Richardson's, but she responds less with

rancour than with wry disdain. She has, a f t e r a1 1 , recourse t o another

public, and her writ ing i s in i t s e l f a subversive attack on -a ludicrous

regime.

Other authors, i n Mrs. Moodie's Canada, are' l e s s fortunate. For ,

want of sympathy, and f o r want of membership in an in te l lec tua l community,

some wri ters are driven to despair, drink, and suicide. She t e l l s the

story of a talented but ~napprec ia t ed~poe t whose cul tural a l ienat ion moved

him to r e t i r e t o a wilderness h u t and there, with a 1 i ke-minded companion,

drink himself t o death. With the a r t i s t ' s physical as well as psychologi-

cal survival a t issue, Mrs. Moodie r ight ly choses to ignore the ph i l i s t ine

aggregation of ma te r i a l i s t i c Canadians and go abroad f o r her audience.

The travel s t ruc ture of Life i n the Clearings permits a type of social

s a t i r e which expresses i t s author 's temperamental estrangement from the

country through which she journeys and from the community where she re-

s ides . When she attends the annual perfonnance of an i t i n e r a n t c ircus,

in her owh town, she goes to watch not the show but the audience: "Persons -. 7

2

of a l l ranks are there; and the variety of faces and characters tha t nature

' exhibi ts g ra t i s are f a r more amusing t o watch than the f ea t s of the

a th le tes ." (p; 70) Mrs. Moodie i s unfail ingly the spectator , -observing

an exotic assortment of cu r ios i t i e s which comprise Upper Canadian society. C

As such, she i s not only uninvolved in the performance, but unimplicated

in i t s moral deficiencies and i t s petty derangements. Her narrat ive frame

i s so e l a s t i c as to accomnodate the social observations of other , s imilar ly J

detached reporters without distingutshtng them idiomatically o r ideologi-

ca l ly from her own anecdotal material , and as the s t o r i e s accumulate a

coincidence in point of view develops. Always the s tory i s related from

the vantage of an outs

wi tnesses i nstances of

event in such a way as

ider , a t r ave l l e r o r guest o r other a1

col tural depravity, and who must then

to recover a sense of his own s t a t ion

i en, who

recount the

and perspec-

t i ve. Inevitably, t h i s recovery process i nvol ves a s a t i r i c exaggeration

of North American f o l l y . Two chapters purport t o be the memoirs of a

travel 1 ing musician, dictated to Mrs. Moodie and pub1 ished posthumously.

They are thematically and s t y l i s t i c a l l y undifferentiated from the r e s t of

the t ex t , and we can assume tha t they gave Mrs. Moodie a narrat ive oppor-

tuni ty to wander f a r abroad and travel f a r the r imaginatively than she did

actual ly , through the western s t a t e s of the American union. "Few people

have a be t te r opportunity of becoming acquainted with the world than the

travel 1 i ng musician. . . " (p. 75) and t h i s extended range introduces to the

narrat ive a nation of counterfei t poets, i d i o t voca l i s t s , and pretentious,

ignorant aud

di gni ty ,even

' h e t e l l s h i s

i s Mrs. Mood

ences. The singer-narrator conducts himself with temperate

in the face of devastating rudeness and r e t a l i a t e s only when

stohyhich he does with annihi la t ing r id icu le . Here again

e ' s own smug condescension when her narrator responds t o

in su l t with wicked a f f a b i l i t y : " I was very much amused a t h is comparing

' me t o a bantam c o e ~ ; - a n d f e l t almost inclined to clap my wings and crow"

( P . 89).

The musician's memirs extend the spa t ia l reference of Life i n the

Clearings and corroborate Mrs. Moodie's generalizations about North Ameri-

can l i f e . As her s i s t e r ' s travel writ ing descends to the most minute -

constituents of scene to document meaning, Mrs. Moodie's turns t o s tory and

vignette t o authenticate her impressions. Working in the c1,assic travel

t r ad i t ion , she deals in generalizations and types -- typical characters,

typical scenes and typical feelings -- and she demonstrates her axioms of

experience with i l l u s t r a t i v e t a l e s . Her story-tel l i ng i s par t of the

documenting process i n both Roughing I t i n the Bush and Life in the Clear-

ings. That i s not t o say tha t many of her i l l u s t r a t ions a re not f i c t i v e

b u t t ha t Clearings, a t l e a s t , works outward in to f i c t ion from an or iginat-

ing r ea l i ty and tha t i t s inspirat ion depends on some i r r e s i s t i b l e irnp'inge-

m e n t of the actual on the imagination.

Sometimes whole chapters are necessary to f u l f i l and formalize f ic t ion- .

a1 o r digressive impulses, b u t Clearings always, sooner o r l a t e r , recovers

i t s direct ion. A t the conclusion of the book stands the t o u r i s t ' s dest i -

nation -- Niagara. Early in the narrat ive, Mrs. Moodie j u s t i f i e s natural

spectacle as proper ob.ject of sightseeing: e

Next t o the love of God, the love of nature may be regarded as the purest and h ~ l i e s t feel ing of the human breast . In the outward beauty of h is creat ion, we catch a ref lect ion of the divine image of the Creator, which ref ines the i n t e l l e c t , and l i f t s the soul upward t o Him (p. 3 ) .

So close i s t h i s declaration t o her s i s t e r ' s s ta ted aes the t ic tha t the

s igni f icant difference i s a l l the more s t r ik ing . Mrs. Trail1 ' s ref lect ions

on botany were doubtless famil iar t o Mrs. Moodie: " I t i s a study tha t

tends t o ref ine and purify the mind, and can be made, by simple s teps ,

a ladder to heave, as i t were, by teaching a child to look with clove and

admiration t o tha t bountiful God who created and made flowers so f a i r t o

adorn and f ruc t i fy t h i s ear th ." Comnon t o both women i s the pious con-

v i c t i o n t h a t na tu re m a t e r i a l l y t e s t i f i e s t o an immater ia l t r u t h ; t hey

share convent ional expecta t ions o f ref inement, p u r i f i c a t i o n , and t h e up-

1 i f t i n g o f t he mind t o s p i r i t u a l ideas. But Mrs. T r a i l 1 d iscovers t h i s

mental e l e v a t i o n i n t h e "study" o f nature, Mrs.'Moodie i n t h e " l ove" of

na ture . This emotional r a t h e r than i n t e l l e c t u a l a t t r a c t i o n t o n a t u r a l

forms i s v i o l e n t l y consummated when Mrs. Moodie f i n a l l y a r r i v e s a t

Niagara. A t h e r f i r s t view o f t h e f a l l s she i s assaul ted, b ru ised, d r i v e n

n e a r l y w i l d by the s i g h t : " the g r e a t c a t a r a c t b u r s t on my s i g h t w i t h o u t

any i n t e r v e n i n g screen, producing an 0,verwhelming sensat ion i n my mind,

which amounted t o p a i n i n i t s i n t e n s i t y ' " (p. 248). Th is i n t e r i o r cornmotion

c la ims a l a r g e p a r t of the s p e c t a t o r ' s d e s c r i p t i v e energy, more, perhaps,

than t h e o u t e r spectac le i t s e l f . So overcome i s her mind and so over-

s t i m u l a t e d are he r f a c u l t i e s t h a t concrete d e s c r i p t i o n i s impos-sible: "The

eye crowds a1 1 i n t o t h e one glance, and the eager mind i s too much dazzled

and i n t o x i c a t e d f o r m i no r d e t a i 1 s. Astoni shment and admi ra t i on are suc-

ceeded by cur ious examinat ion and enjoyment; b u t i t i s imposs ib le t o r e a l i z e

t h i s a t f i r s t " ( p . 248). But the promise o f a more exact l ook a t t he com-

ponents of the experience i s u n f u l f i l l e d . Scarcely does she beg in t o

a t t e n d t o the measure o f t h e p a r t s be fo re she must once again exc la im a t

t he ' i nca lcu lab le who1 e.

Her r h e t o r i c a l r e p l y t o t h e scene i s predetermined n o t o n l y by an

a e s t h e t i c system b u t a l s o by c e r t a i n moral assumptions: "The human be ing

who cou ld stand unmoved be fo re the g rea t ca ta rac t , and f e e l no qu icken ing

o f t he pulse, no s i l e n t ado ra t i on o f t he h e a r t towards t h e Creator o f t h i s

wondrous scene, would remain as i n d i f f e r e n t and as un insp i red be fo re t h e

throne o f God!" (p. 249) Her own devot iona l s e n s i t i v i t y i s c e r t a i n l y

vindicated, and her a r t i s t i c and sp i r i tua l goal i s accomplished emph3tical-

l y . B u t so conventional and fu l ly anticipated i s i t t h a t not a great deal

can be.done with i t i n a l i t e r a r y way beyond re i te ra ted exultation and

amazement. Mrs. Moodie soon turns to the hotel , where she discovers the

vernacular material t h a t be t t e r s u i t s her g i f t . The human scene i s not

absolutely dissociated from the natural: the l a s t - c i t ed passage prepares

the reader f o r some of the social and moral judgments i t s author makes of

the var iety of t o u r i s t s among the hotel guests. None, of course, compares

with her own exquisi te excitement, and many are deplorably inadequate. ?"

0 Seated on the hotel verandah, she i s aroused from her rapturous contempla-

t ion of the f a l l s by "a lady remarking t o another, who was standing beside

her, ' t h a t she considered the Fa1 1s a great humbug; t h a t there was more

fuss made about them than they deserved; tha t she was s a t i s f i e d with having

seen them once; and t h a t she never-wished to see them again" (p. 255).

This kind of i r reverent insens i t iv i ty i s imnensely in te res t ing to Mrs.

Moodie, and i s essent ial t o a complete l i t e r a r y version of her tour. Bet-

t e r ye t i s the information tha t the obtuse speaker i s the same woman whose

unmannerly table habits in the hotel dining room had e a r l i e r a t t rac ted

Mrs. Moodie's disapproval. Want of t a s t e and dull s tupid i ty before natural

grandeur ident i fy the vulgar North American tou r i s t .

Mrs. Moodie lovesher own good tourism and f inds i t best demqnstrated

in these endlessly inspir ing instances of social ignorance. She c ~ n s i d e r s

her observations somewhat asocial -- " I w i s h naturehadnot given me such

a quick perception of the ridiculous -- such a perverse incl inat ion t o laugh

i n the wrong place; f o r though one cannot help deriving from i t a wicked

enjoyment, i t i s a very troublesome g i f t , and very d i f f i c u l t t o conceal"

( p . 255) -- b u t i t i s the very subversiveness of t h i s smothered laughter

than causes her to cherish i t a1 1 the more. To laugh in the "wrong

places" in th i s ridiculous world i s t o laugh in just the r igh t places in

another, be t t e r world. Her insight in to f o l l y and ignorance in the New

World i s not only the substance of her a r t , b u t a l so the salve t o her

cul tural a l ienat ion. Her earnest rehearsal of decent a t t i t udes towards

nature i s one mode of appeal to her European audience, but l e s s sure and

ef fec t ive than her moral comedy.

I11

Frances Trollope's Domestic Manners of the Americans was published in

London in 1832. Mrs. Moodie may have known the book, f o r i t had an ex-

tremely successful publication, b u t t ha t poss ib i l i ty has less t o do with

the s imi l a r i t i e s between Domestic Manners and Roughing I t than cer ta in

coincidences in the au thor ' s social and economic s i tua t ions . The Moodies B

came to Canada to fores ta l 1 the ignominy of a moderate but, t o them, in-

tolerable poverty; they expected to enhance magically t h e i r meagre asse ts

and to recover the genteel securi ty of which t h e i r reduced circumstances

had deprived them. When Mrs. Trollope sa i led in 1827 she l e f t behind a

horrendous tangle of debts and financial disappointments which she hoped to

s o r t out in shor t order by investing a small capi tal on the American fron-

t i e r . 4 Both families were unprepared f o r the actual conditions which were

a mockery of their naive projects. And both fam?lies were nearly obl i te r -

ated f inancial ly by an economic s t ruc ture which functioned on pr inciples .

which were to them incomprehensible. A century and a half l a t e r i t i s

clear. t h a t the prof i tab1 e expenditure was not tha t of poorly-managed cap-

i t a l but of i n t e l l e c t and imagination, and tha t the real divided was

l i t e r a r y . Mrs. Trollope was perhaps closer to t h i s awareness than Mrs.

Moodie was, f o r her book about America i n i t i a t e d a remunerative career

i n travel writ ing which secured her family from absolute want even i f i t

could not provide the means fo r the grand l iv ing which had indebted them - in the f i r s t place.

Both Mrs. Moodie and Mrs. Trollope were, in a sense, exceptionally \

bad t r ave l l e r s : every d e t a i l of t h e i r existence reminded them tha t they - were abroad and not a t home; they resis ted adaptation t o a new cul tural

habi tat . B u t i f t h e i r disgruntlement made them bad t r a v e l l e r s , i t a l so

made them very good travel wr i te rs , giving them a profound sense of re-

location, of having been radical ly transported and s e t down elsewhere.

From these unremitting feel ings of foreignness, Mrs. Moodie and Mrs. Z -

Troll ope deri ved i r repressi bl e 1 i t e rary energy whi ch produced tendentious

b u t enter taining verbal po r t r a i t s of North American society. In f a c t i t

i s t ha t tendentiousness in a l l i t s indomitable prejudice which gives Mrs.

Moodie's and Mrs. Trol lope ' s travel writings s t ruc ture and form, making

them arguments aqai ns t ci.rcums tance.

On a superf icial leve l , the occasion of Domestic Manners can be com-

pared to t h a t of Roughing I t in the Bush and Life in the Clearings. Both

wri ters saw something of the wilderness: Mrs. Trollope spent a few weeks

on the Tennessee f ron t i e r ; Rrs. M~odie l ived s i x years in the Canadjanbush.

Both w o r n knew t o m l i f e , too: Mrs. Trollape p a s ~ d tuo years i n Cine

c inna t i , and by the ear ly 18501s, when Roughing I t and Life in thec lear ings

were published, Mrs. Hoodie had been more than ten years a t Bel levi l le .

The pleasure tour described i n Life i n the Clearings corresponds t o the

more extensive t sm which concluded Mrs. Trollop e ' s s ourn in t h

United States , and in these l a t t e r phases of travel the routes and com-

mentaries of these women in t e r sec t , a t Niagara, the mecca f o r t rave l le rs

in the New World. B u t the most profitable basis f o r comparing Domestic

Manners to Roughing I t and i t s sequel l i e s in the f a c t of each wr i t e r ' s

cultural a1 ienation from the s i t e of her economic project.

For bri 11 i an t impracticali ty, the Trol lopes' scheme f o r financial

recovery f a r surpasses the Moodies' drab attempts a t homesteading. Donald

Smalley's introduction t o the 1949 edition of Domestic Manners provides

the background to which she herself never d i rec t ly re fers . The enterprise

which occupied Mrs. Trollope's two years a t Cincinnati was the construction

of an enormous, arabesque emporium known as "The Bazaar," t o house a l l the

social and cul tural business Mrs. Troll ope be1 ieved the c i t y 1 acked, and

desired. "Fancy goods," imported from France, were t o be displayed fo r

s a l e ; an "Exchange" would establish a s i t e for coffee-house conviviality; a

ballroom, thea t re , gal lery would host important events. The edi f ice i t s e l f

was a rchi tec tura l ly ec l ec t i c , t o say the l eas t , supplying a t once - a l l the

design deficiencies of a f ron t i e r town. Every s t ruc tura l mode and orna-

ment that could possibly be accommodated was included in the plan, creating

an inconceivable but concrete confusion. The s t rangest thing of a l l i s that

the building actual ly happened, the "fancy goods" arr ived, and a few even-

ings of dramatic rec i ta t ions did occur. Unfortunately, the c i t izens of

Cincinnati were unable to comprehend the opportunity offered them, and

ignored t h i s facsimile of European culture -- as f a r as t h i s was possible,

given the dimensions and s ingular i ty of the thing. A f ine irony l i e s

the f a c t t ha t Mrs. Trollope, c rea tor of t h i s prominent public fantasy,

i so l a t e s bad t a s t e and "want of refinement" as dist inguishing character-

i s t i c s of Americans.

Mrs. Trollope l e f t England i n 1827; three years and nine months l a t e r

she was back. J u s t l e s s than half Domestic Manners deals with her a r r i va l

i n America and her residence i n Cincinnati . The remainder of the book

follows her t o Baltimore, Washington, Philadelphia, New York, Niagara and

through the t e r r a i n s which intervene. During t h i s second par t she i s

ac t ive ly the t ravel wr i t e r , indust r iously co l lec t ing material f o r the book

t h a t was now underway and t h a t represented the only hope of recouping some

of the devastating losses incurred by the unfortunate voyage. The most

substant ia l port ion of her memoirs r e f e r s t o the social landscape, but

in assuming the ro l e of t ravel wr i t e r , she was obliged t o look responsibly

a t nature. This she d id , w i t h an ambivalence she shares w i t h Mrs. Moodie.

For both Vrs. T r o l l o p e and Mrs, Moodie, nature and wilderness a r e

separate quan t i t i es . Both women a re schooled i n the pract ice of nature

descr ipt ion, but ne i ther of them can e f f e c t any ae s the t i c connection with

wilderness, and both f a l l f a r sho r t of Mrs. T r a i l l ' s a b i l i t y t o discover

s t ruc ture i n organic forms. This doesn ' t mean t h a t they a r e absolutely

s i l e n t on the matter. Faced w i t h only elemental nature a t the mouth

of the Mississippi , Mrs. Trollope dec l a r e s ' t he scene desolate and unin-

t e r e s t i ng , but her very way of r e l a t i n g t h e perceived emptiness i s porten-

tous: "Only one object rea rs i t s e l f above the eddying waters; t h i s i s

the mast of a vessel long s ince wrecked i n attempting t o cross the bar,

and i t s t i l l s tands, a dismal witness of the destruction t h a t has been,

and boding prophet of tha t which i s t o come"' This introduction to the

continent a t l e a s t has i t s for lorn r e l i c with which to construe a meaning;

when she t ru ly penetrates t o the wilderness, she i s confronted by an

undel ineated blankness. Suggesting no verbal t rad i t ion within which to

express the spec ta to r ' s a t t i t ude , wilderness presents Mrs. Trollope with

only an unutterable meaninglessness. This i s cer tainly the case a t

Nashoba, an experimental settlement in-Tennessee founded on l ibera l prin-

ci pl es and intended f o r the education and social i zation of emancipated

s laves, Even the highly c iv i l ized raison d i e t r e of Nashoba cannot com- // " pensate fo r the negative environment in which i t e x i s t s , o r f o r i t s lack

of fami l ia r , humane objects and amenities: "Desola 2 ion was the only feel-

i ng -- the only word t h a t presented i t s e l f . . . " (p. 27) when Mrs. Trol lope

arr ived. "Each building consisted of two large rooms furnished in the

most simple manner; nor had they as ye t collected round them any of those

minor comforts which ordinary minds c lass among the necessaries of 1 i f e "

( p . 28). The s i t e i s beref t of i n t e r e s t , except i n i t s unthinkable empti-

ness. On the one hand i s a human squalor a t t r ibu tab le to the absence of

the a pr ior i requirements of "ordinary minds;" on the other a dismal,

unvaried nature : -

I found no beaqty in the scenery round Nashoba, nor can I conceive tha t i t would possess any even in sumner. The t rees were so close to each other as not t o permit the growth of underwood, the great ornament of the fo res t a t New Orleans, and s t i l l l e s s of our seeing any openings, where the varying e f fec t s of l i g h t and shade might atone

; for the absence of other d j e c t s f p. . 3 0 ) . ,'

Unnerved by t h i s meaningless uniformity, Mrs. Trol lope decamps a f t e r ten

days and f 1 ees Nas hoba .

She i s be t te r

to Cincinnati , but

pleased by the scenery along the Ohio, as she proceeds

even tha t sequence i s regrettably limited in aes the t ic

reference: "were there occasionally a ruined abbey, o r feudal c a s t l e ,

to mix the romance of real l i f e with tha t of nature, the Ohio would be

perfect" (p. 3 3 ) . Mrs. Trol lope ' s sentiments a re typical of a cer tain

type of tourism, f o r other t r ave l l e r s in America, Washington Irving among

them, lament the h is tor ica l incompleteness of even the most exquisi te

natural scenery when unpopulated or when unassimilated by a verbal t rad i -

t i on . When, two years l a t e r , Mrs. Trollope and her entourage a re travel-

l ing by stage through the Alleghenies, she produces one of her most sus-

tained renditions of an appealing landscape. Nevertheless, even t h i s -

agreeable and in teres t ing scene reminds her of what i s not there. On

departing a grim 1 i t t l e coal -mining town, she says,

we were again cheered by abundance of evergreens, re- f lected in the stream, with f an ta s t i c p i l e s of rock, ha1 f v is ib le through the -pines and cedars above, giving often the idea of a vast gothic cas t le . I t was a f o l l y , I confess, b u t I often lamented they were not such; the t rave l l ing f o r thousands of miles, without meeting any . nobler t race of the ages t h a t a r e passed, than a mass of rot ten leaves, o r a fragment of f a l l en rock, produces a heavy, ear th ly , matter-of-fact e f f ec t upon the imagina- t ion , which can hardly be described, and for which the grea tes t beauty of scenery can furnish only an occasional and t ransi tory remedy (pp. 198-99).

The unembel 1 i shed, unhumani zed materials of nature are "heavy, ear thly,

matter-of-fact;" they suggest nothing, o r suggest only the ennui of an

experience not worth a r t i cu la t ion . These sensations a r e a f a r cry from

the eloquence which natural matters-of-fact inspi re in observers 1 i ke

Wi 11 iam Bartram and Mrs. Trai 11 . Notable, too, in t h ? s passage i s the

implici t s h i f t from the ugly "black l i t t l e town" which the party leaves

t o the qua1 i f ied consol ation of a p r e t t i e r natural landscape. A1 though

wilderness i s measurably in fe r io r t o scenes with h is tor ica l and demographic

associations, i t i s nonetheless of greater value than the vulgar demonstra-

t ions of modern man in a new land.

Khen Mrs. Trollope v i s i t s Niagara, short ly before her return t o England,

some of these equivocations are resolved in an instance of ideal tourism.

We have been a t Niagara before, w i t h Anna Jameson, John Richardson and

Susanna Moodie, and we will v i s i t i t again with other t r ave l l e r s l a t e r in

the century. Meanwhi 1 e , we find Mrs. Trol lope honouring the spectacle ,

and acquiescing i n most of the conventions connected with the ca tarac t :

To say tha t I was not disappointed i s but a weak ex- pression to convey the surprise and astonishment whi.ch the long dreamed of scene produced. I t has t o me some- thing beyond its vastness; there i s a shadowy mystery tha t hangs about i t which nei ther the eye nor even the imagination can penetrate; b u t I dare not dwell on t h i s , i t i s a dangerous subject, and any attempt to describe the sensations produced must lead d i r ec t t o nonsense (p . 381).

So public and l i t e r a r y is the "long dreamed of scene" tha t i t becomes some-

t h i n g which can scarcely be approached without acknowledgement of the

verbal t rad i t ions associated with i t . Both Richardson and Mrs. Jameson

refer t o the e f fec t of reading in preparing them for' the t o u r i s t event;

Mrs. Moodie's education must have included s imilar accounts and she

describes herself as having yearned' fo r a 1 ifetime fo r a glimpse of the

mighty Fa1 1 s . Travel 1 i t e ra ture confers upon Niagara the importance of

a c lass ica l ruin o r admired cathedral ; i t i s a mythic s t ruc ture against . which the educated sens ib i l i t y can be tested. The popular appet i te f o r

l i t e r a r y meditatipns on the Fal ls seems t o have been insa t iab le ; every i

travel wr i t e r who comes near the Fal ls responds to his audience's expecta-

t ions by abandoning a l l other in t e res t s and preoccupations t o pay pious 7

homage t o the natural shrine. None of the writers included in t h i s d is -

cussion experienced anything even remotely resembl i ng a real adventure

or actual c r i s i s a t Niagara, y e t they a l l distinguish t h e i r Niagara epi-

sodes with inntense i n t e r i o r drama. So fami 1 i a r were t h e i r readers with

the reported appearance of the Fa1 1s tha t the motives behind endless r e i t e r -

ations must l i e beyond merely informative intent ions. These contemplative ? i

raptures spring from the metaphysic of travel : the bel ief t ha t trans.loca- -

- ,

t ion means more than simply a physical change in circumstances and tha t

revelation will attend the fa i thfu l t o u r i s t ' s pilgrimage t o sacred spots

in nature. As readers of devotional l i t e r a t u r e were t i r e l e s s in t h e i r

i n t e re s t in records of rel igious illumination and conversion, so were read-

ers of travel l i t e r a t u r e indefatigable in t h e i r a t t r ac t ion t o reports of

emotional excitement before nature. Orthodoxy plays a par t in both types

of revelat ion, es tabl ishing cer ta in recognizable symbols and landmarks

for the a r t i s t and f o r h i s audience. Niagara i s such a landmark fo r those 'Q f'

convinced of the preternatural l y en1 i ghteni ng power of travel ; i t s u i t s f / a l l these writers be t te r than wilderness because i t i s , even before they

a r r ive , a famil iar t ex t and i t - e x i s t s within a received verbal t rad i t ion . 3

I t demands only a marginal innovation t o renew i t , and nothing l i k e the

profound revisions of aes the t ic and rhetorical convention required by the

i n f i n i t e vacuity of unpeopled fo res t and plains . And, l i k e any functional

metaphysic, the Niagara mystery gives r i s e t o moral activi . ty. Mrs. Jameson 2

experiences a quasi-religious trauma when she finds herself uninspired by

the Fal ls : - e i the r she has f a i l ed s p i r i t u a l l y , o r the gospel of Niagara

i s untrue. Susanna Moodie claims t h a t the spectator invulnerable t o

Niagara i s not only stupid hut impious. Mrs. Trollope makes a s imi lar

judgement on insensi t ive tou r i s t s : " I should deem the nerves obtuse,

ra ther than strong, which did not quail a t the f i r s t s ight of t h i s stupen-

dous cataract" (p . 383). On the other hand, she f ee l s ju s t i f i ed in being

unmoved by the mere "heavy, ear th ly , matter-of-fact" texture of wi 1 derness . Even as ear ly as Emily Montague European t r ave l l e r s were c r i t i c a l

of the North American's lack of in t e res t in scenery. A t Niagara Mrs.

Trollope describes the fashionable American t o u r i s t as ignorantly non-

chalant "before the god of nature" ( p . 387), and as ue reby demonstrating

yet another par t icu lar of the general lack of cul tural refinement. A t

Cincinnati the Trol lopes were unique hg the populace fo r the pleasure

they took in nature: "A row upon the Ohio was another of our favourite

amusements; b u t in this , I believe, we were also very s ingular , f o r of ten,

when enjoying i t , we were shouted a t , by the young free-borns on the

banks, as i f we had been so many monsters" ( p . 177). However, i n spi t e of

the regular ekur s ions and picnics undertaken by her family during t h e i r

residence a t Cincinnati , Mrs. Trollope f ina l ly cannot love her location.

"On f i r s t a r r iv ing , I thought the many tree-covered hi 11s around, very

beautiful , but 1 ong before my departure, I f e l t so weary of the confined

view tha t Salisbury Plain would have been an agreeable variety" (p. 44 ) .

Here Mrs. Trollope introduces one of the few occasions on which landscape

touches her deepest feel ings. As she develops her sketch of the environs

of' Cincinnati and reckons the enclosing h i l l s as aspects of her own en-

trapment, her description of the drear , dense fo res t s reminds us of the

suffocation of her hopes and plans. The thick, eternal bush i s unrelieved

by the a i r and 1 ight , o r by t h e breathing-space t h a t encourages ornamental

undergrowth and admits f r ee r views. Decay i s the chief cha rac te r i s t i c

of t h i s repel l en t , impenetrable 1 andscape : "Fa1 len t rees in every possible

stage of decay, and congeries of leaves t h a t have been ro t t ing since the

flood, cover the ground and in fec t the a i r " ( p . 42).

What a l l t h i s adds up t o i s t ha t Cincinnati may be an in teres t ing

place t o v i s i t , b u t i t i s no place to l ive . She says t h i s herself : "The

more unlike a country through which we travel i s t o a l l we have l e f t , the

more we are l ike ly to be amused; every thing in Cincinnati had ' t h i s newness,

and I should have thought i t a place delightful to v i s i t , b u t t o ta r ry there

was not to feel a t home" ( p . 48). Mrs. Trollope i s another t r a v e l l e r

immobilized and impatient in an inhospitiable environment. And, however

d is tas te fu l the scenery becomes, i t i s a minor aggravation compared with

the vexation of l iv ing in a society fundamentally hos t i l e t o her own values

and ambitions. Throughout her recounted residence a t Cincinnati she remains

in a s t a t e of nervous i r r i t a t i o n over every feature o f f r o n t i e r society.

Her hypersensit ivity distinguishes her posit ively from the community

around her, i so la t ing her as a person habituated t o the refinements of i

c i vi 1 i zation. Her very discontent and rest1 essness a re s ignals of her

s u p r i o r i ty. Where every del i c a t e pleasure and subt le amenity i s wanting,

the individual accustomed to them can only endure a continual tor ture :

... where the whole machine of the human frame i s in f u l l a c t i v i t y , where every 'sense brings home t o con- sciousness i t s touch of pleasure or pain, then every

object t ha t meets the sense i s important as a vehicle of happiness o r misery. B u t l e t no frames so tempered visit the United States , o r i f they do, l e t i t be with no longer pausing than will s tore the memory with images, which, by the force of contrast , shall sweeten the future (P* 44).

Mrs. Trollope paused much longer than the br ief interval she recommends.

Rather than enjoy the t r a v e l l e r ' s pleasure i n notable differences, she

had to l i ve through the profundity of the abysmal contrast .

. . k f ke Susanna :doodi e , k4i-s Tro: :ope i s i fitensel y conc-i-ned wi t h soci 5:

insubordination and the mutation of c lass order in a society which cannot

acknowledge her claims t o s ta t ion and s ta tus . In her view, the democratiza-

t ion of manners leads only t o an abominable level l ing. The most elevated

feelings and the nicest dis t inct ions are debased, and, again l i k e Mrs.

Moodie, Mrs. Trollope finds the behaviour of her servants a vicious in-

dication of the corruption of t radi t ional social values. Until she finds

a deferential English servant-gir l , she i s abused and exploited by impudent

"free-borns" who come and go as . they please and boldly declare t h e i r own

terms. In society a t large she i s referred to as "old woman," forced into

social re lat ions with those she regards as her in fe r io r s , and even invited

to the home of a green grocer. Such humiliations m u s t be endured, b u t

they cannot go unaccounted in the f inal a r t icu la t ion . There, t o redress

the offense, she adopts a tone of amused disdain remarkably l i k e Mrs.

Moodie's. She accepts the invi tat ion to the grocer 's house, b u t only to

observe, and "report ," and to flesh out the irony of her social predicament.

She describes her "amusement": "Had I not become hear t i ly t i r ed of my

prolonged residence in a place I cordially dis l iked, and which moreover

I began to fear would not be attended with the favourable r e su l t s we had

ant icipated, I should have found an almost inexhaugtible source of amuse-

r e n t in the notions and opinions of the people I conversed with;'and as

i t was, I often did enjoy t h i s in a considerable degree" ( p . 157). Again, ..

comedy serves the hapless a1 ien stationed in a foreign habitat?

This foreign milieu i s not merely incompatible with the social assump-

t ions of the European observer, but openly declarat ive of i t s hatred and-

contempt for her:

We received, as I have mentioned, much personal kind- ness; but t h i s by no means interfered with the national feeling o f , I believe, unconquerable d i s l ike , which evidently l ives a t the bottom of every t ru ly American heart against the English. This shows i t s e l f in a thousand l i t t l e ways, even in the midst of the most kind and fr iendly intercourse, b u t often in a manner more comic than offensive (p. 157).

Mrs. Trollope says she was neither disappointed nor injured by t h i s popular-

loathing for her kind. Once she finds tha t she cannot be admired in

America, and tha t she will be only misunderstood and rev i l ed , she stands

s to i ca l ly in the face of manifest absurdity, nicely recovering. her dignity:

One lady asked me very gravely, i f we had l e f t home in order t o get r id of the vermin with which the English of a l l ranks were a f f l i c t ed? " I have heard" from unquestionable authori ty ," she added, " that i t i s qui te impossible t o walk through the s t r e e t ~ ~ o f London without having the head f i l l e d . "

I laughed a l i t t l e , b u t spoke not a word (p. 158).

Throughout her narrat ive, Mrs. Trollope records few, i f any, face-

to-face transactions with Americans which ing but chagrin, or

wry amusement, o r h i l a r i t y . She f inds. i t t o cornnunicate with

c i t i zens of the republic: " I have conversed in London and in Paris with

foreigners of many nations, and often through . the misty medium of an idiom

imperfectly understood, b u t I remember no instance in which I found the

- ,

same d i f f i cu l ty in conveying my sentiments, my impressions, and my opinions

to those around me, as I did in America" (p. 3 6 3 ) . One need hardly wonder

a t 'the length and fluency of her memoirs when one learns t h a t she was

v i r tua l ly incomnunicado for almost four years -- a l l those sensations,

impressions and opinions stopped-up, pressingoto flood for th and inundate

a sympathetic audience.

Possibly the only occasion where Mrs. Trollope i s moied t o spontaneous,

intimate communication w i t h someone outside her own household occurs in

P h i ladel phia. There, in a grassy square, she spies an interesting-looking

woman a t le i sure with a ch i ld : 4

There was something in her manner of looking a t me, and exchanging a smile when her young charge per- formed some extraordinary f ea t of ac t iv i ty on the grass, t ha t persuaded me she was not an American. I do not remember who spoke f i r s t , b u t we were presently '

i n a f u l l flow of conversation (p. 266).

This appealing young woman, i t turns out , i s a German, i n s t i n c t with a

disdain fo r Americans and expiring with the desire t o go home: "'They do

not love music, Oh no! and they never amuse themselves -- no; and t h e i r

hearts a re not warm, a t l e a s t they seem not so to s t ranger; and they have

no ease, no forgetfulness of business and of care -- no, not f o r a moqent'.

B u t I will not s tay long, I think, f o r I should not l ive" ( p . 266). Mrs.

Trollope i s infatuated by the German woman, with her adorable melancholy

and her concise analysis of American manners which corroborates Mrs.

. - ~ r o l i o p e l s own impressions.

The vacuity and peculiar a r t i f i c i a l i t y of those manners make Mrs.

Trollope decide against her hosts. When some ceremony or social procedure B '5

comes t o her attenti,on,' she finds i t s i 1 ly , vulgar o r pretentious. h e n

t h a t matrix of social exchange i s wanting, she deplores i t s absence. The

s e t t l e r ' s motive and s tory suggest nothing to her b u t nothingness, f o r

she finds social and economic independence "unnatural" and unnerving.

Mournfully, she describes the existence of a backwoods family, and then

of fers her in te rpre ta t ion of the meaning of such a l i f e :

These people were indeed independent, Robinson Crusoe was hardly more so, and they ea t and drink abundantly; b u t ye t i t seemed t o me tha t there was something awful and almost unnatural in t h e i r loneliness. No vi l lage be1 1 ever summoned them to prayer, where they might meet the fr iendly greeting of t h e i r fellow-men. When they d ie , no spot sacred by ancient reverence will receive t h e i r bones. . . . (pp. 49-50)

We cannot marvel a t the f a i l u r e of the Trollopes' western en terpr i se when

we f ind i t s director unmoved by an inventory of pioneer asse ts and gradual

increment -- the symbols and ethos of North American success. She turns,

rather with the same gesture as Mrs. Moodie's, t o the idea of lonely death

as the best way of explaining the emotional content of the scene.

Mrs. Trollope's view of Arne-rica i s authorized by her superior experi-

ence. As a t r ave l l e r she necessarily makes those comparisons of which the

resident i s incapable. B u t as a t r ave l l e r fyom Europe she i s especially

equipped to apply the 1 arger view, having personal access t o a1 1 tha t

the American, i n his limited sphere, cannot know. "In no society i n the

world," she says of America, "can the advantage of travel be so conspicuous"

( p . 323) . The American's geographical and cul tural i so la t ion produces an

egocentricity and narcissism which Mrs. Trollope finds impenetrable, and

profoundly i r r i t a t i n g ; her opinions Aare unheard and unheeded here. Travel ,

w i t h i t s introduction of the elsewhere and otherness, would be jus t the

experience to shock the American out of his complacent ignorance. As i t

i s , his appa

and se l f - c r i

11 ingly narrow mental

t ic ism which Mrs. Tro

limits admit none of the comparisons

llope wishes.he would undertake. Whi

she, with her wider experience, believes she can eas i ly comprehend his

character, he can only s t a r e back a t her uncomprehendingly.

In her review of American 1 i t e ra ture , Mrs. Trol lope i s impressed by

the absence of a l lusion in writ ing, t ha t i s , the w r i t e r ' s i n a b i l i t y to

express his composition's re1 atedness to a1 1 1 i te ra ture and t o European

1 i t e ra ture in par t icu lar -- another indication of a narrow, egocentric

worl d-view. Her judgements on American writing are mainly unfavourable,

but not emphatically so. She saves her rancour fo r the unlettered members

of American society, those she perceives a t the pole of experience opposite

from her own and those who would, cer ta in ly , be l e a s t l i ke ly t o appreciate r

her own peculiar f a c u l t i e s . The question of l i t e racy comes down to a

moral issue:

I conceive tha t no place i r~ the known world can .furni sh so s t r ik ing a proof of the immense value of l i t e r a r y habits as the United Sta tes , not only in enlarging the mind, b u t what i s of in f in i t e ly more importance, in purifying the manners. During my abode in the country I not only never met a l i t e r a r y man who was a tobacco chewer or a whiskey drinker, but I never met any who were not, t ha t had escaped these degrading habits ( p . 279).

Given the prevalence of tobacco chewing and the nasty s p i t t i n g associated-

with the habit , i t i s no suprise to find tha t a f t e r four years of "atten-

t i ve#bbservation" Mrs. Trol lope can unconditional ly a s s e r t t ha t in America /

"ttfe moral sense i s on every point b1 unter than wi t h us" (pp. 256-57).

A society lacking the moral equipment with which to make the .pol i t ica l

and social d is t inc t ions which in t e res t Mrs. Trollope i s a society incapable

of comprehending her values, and cer tainly incapable of endorsing her a r t .

The popular uproar in America which followed publication of Domestic Manners

could only have confirmed her opinions on the impossi b i 1 i ty of cormunicati ve

exchange between the European t r a v e l l e r and the American. There i s , she

f e e l s , a subt le bond between refined manners and en1 i ghtened mentality,

a connection maintained by observance of t radi t ional sanctions. In America,

the rupture,of th i s ideal connection debases the mind and deranges society:

thus the theme of her social and in te l lec tua l experience abroad -- "domestic

manners." Had her North American journey not included a two-year residence

in the West s,he might have sustained the t r a v e l l e r ' s objective in t e res t i n . I -

novelty -- f o ' r m h e says, the more novel the scene the more valuable

i t i s t o the observer. She may or may not have composed her memoirs had

her other work, her entrepreneurial project, yielded any re turn . B u t as

i t was, comparisons and contrasts were of no mere academi c , ins t ruc t ive

in t e res t ; they were manifest personal c r i se s to be endured. For every per-

sonal and cul tural a s se t -- c la s s , captial , sensibi l i ty -- t o be brutal ly

discounted and f o r the t r ave l l e r t o be l e f t f inancial ly dispossessed and

soc ia l ly demoralized requires some quick action t o recuperate the loss .

As with Mrs. Moodie, the best stpategem for recovering a personal invest-

r e n t i s a l i t e r a r y inquiry into the very foreignness of the manners and

more so powerfully a l ien t o her own in t e res t s . Mrs. Trollope, ra ther than

waste her experiences in acquiescent regret and dismay, husbands them to

r e t a i l in a be t t e r market. Her only unquestionably happy social experience

in America appears to have been her half-hour of intense comunication

w i t h t h e homesick Geman a t Philadelphia. Domestic Manners expands i n

l i t e r a r y form the measure of tha t m m n t , the fond excitement of re la t ing

the whole s tory to a sympathetic audience, and the exquisi te pleasure of

gett ing home again. ii

Strains of pathos and poignancy in Roughing I t distinguish i t from

Domestic Manners. Mrs. Moodie's regret r e f l ec t s the essent ia l f a c t of h e r '

social i so la t ion: she will not be getting home again. ~ e r ' o n l ~ way of re-

traversing the route taken l i e s in despatching melancholy appeal t o her

d is tan t audience. She asks fo r comniseration. Mrs. Trollope, on the other

hand, i s sure tha t her course will take her home again: her appeal to her

audience s a t i s f i e s her desire to redress the offenses she suffered a t the

hands of a society which demeaned and discounted her. Her discourse i s more

argumentative; she expresses her outrage and indignation through denunciation.

Frances Trollope i s only an in teres t ing footnote to American l i t e r a r y

his tory. Samuel Clemens re fers t o her appreciatively in Life on the Mississippi,

b u t she i s less an inspirat ion to him than a sourcebof h is tor ica l background

fo r his documentation of his own journey. She belongs in the Bri t ish t rad i -

t ion , voicing aes the t i c , po l i t ica l and social a t t i t udes which were famil iar

m d a t t r a c t i v e t o her English audience. Susanna Moodie, however, with

her .mlancholy regret for what she had l o s t and her s l y s a t i r e of colonial

rmnners, i s central t o the Canadian l i t e r a r y t r ad i t ion . In the s t ruc ture

and expression of her a t t i tudes -- her reference to a d i s t an t point of

or ig in , her homing tendencies and her feelings of 1 i terary and cul tural

i so la t ion -- a r e patterns recognizable to Canadian readers and art is ts . Far

Susanna Moodie, the audience was elsewhere and her e f fec t ive address a f

~ q i s audience was a ;ratter of cul tural survival .

Notes

Chapter 5

Cathar i ne Parr T r a i 11 , The Backwoods o f Canada (Toronto: McClel l a n d

and Stewart , 1966), p . 21. Subsequent re fe rences w i 11 be t o t h i s e d i t i o n .

' Susanna Moodie, Roughing I t i n t h e Bush (Toronto: McCle l land and

Stewart , 1962), p . 29. Subsequent references w i 11 be t o t h i s e d i t i o n .

Some o f the l a t e r chapters o f C lear ings may have been in tended f o r

F?oughing I t . See Robert L . YcDougal l ls i n t r o d u c t i o n t o L i f e i n t he Clear-

i nqs (Toronto: Macmi 11 an, 1976). Subsequent re fe rences w i 11 be t o t h i s

e d i t i on.

c l r s . -T ro l l ope caw t o Nor th America accompanied by t h r e e o f he r

c h i l d r e n ; her husband and another son j o i n e d them i n 1828 b u t re tu rned

:o England a f t e r a few months. Anthony remained a t home, a t school, d u r i n g

rqi; whole i n t e r e s t i n g episode i n h i s f a m i l y ' s h i s t o r y .

5 Frances T r o l lope , Domestic Manners o f t he Americans (New York: Knopf,

7 - q , j 4 3 ) , p. 4 . Subsequent re fe rences w i 11 be t o t h i s e d i t i o n .

Chapter 6

Towards .Simple Narrative and ~ a t u r a l Utterance:

Washington Irving and Henry David Thoreau

Between Washington I rv ing ' s ear ly l i t e r a r y production -- especially

h is sentimental descriptions of r u s t i c l i f e i n the Old Korld i n The - Sketch -- Book of Geoffrey Crayon., Gent. (1819-1820) -- and Thoreau's

A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers (1849) there seem differences ---- -

too profound t o support any comparative speculation. B u t when we consider

A\ the s imi lar i ty between the documentary lucidi ty of I rving 's l a t e r

A Tour on the Pra i r ies (1 835) and Thoreau's l a s t travel essays i n ----

The Maine bloods (1864) we begin to reconsider the d ispar i ty between --- the Sketch Book and -- A Week. In undertaking travel memoir as a 1 i terary

form f o r t h e i r ear ly wri t ings, both Irving and Thoreau exploited the

conventional occasion of travel wri t i rig to authorize miscell aneous

verbal a c t i v i t i e s . The s t ructural consequence of th i s i s , i n the

Sketch Book, permissively episodic form and, in -- A Week, extraordinary

excursiveness and divagation. I rv ing ' s episodes a re each demonstrations

of a c lus t e r of sentimental a t t i t u d e s , and Thoreau's excurses a re each 1

i philosophical essays arguing a personal ethos. These units might stand 8

3 alone -- o r nearly alone. The travel occasion j u s t i f i e s t h e i r pub1 icat ion

and, without i t , they would lose the authority of t h e i r address.

I n these ear ly works, Irving and Thoreau face s imi lar problems in

adopting the travel form: they describe s ights famil iar to informed

readers. Neither English quaintness nor New England waterways offered

surpris ing news to a curious audience. Only o r ig ina l i ty of l i t e r a r y

sty1 e and a t t i t u d e could recommend e i t h e r account. ( I rv ing ' s success

i n addressing his public, of course, f a r surpassed Thoreau's: his

Sketch Book made his 1 i terary reputation, d i l e - - _ . A Meek on the Concord

and Merrimac Rivers excited almost no contemporary i n t e r e s t a t a1 1.1 - Under these circumstances, only the temperament and mental i t y of the

t r a v e l l e r could jus t i fy the exercise; only h is sensibi l i t y and sentiments

could make his memoir an important document. The s i tua t ion is perhaps

mast conspikuous i n -- A Week, where Thoreau expat iates endlessly on the >

actual voyage, as i f re luctant to send the document for th to stand on

i t s evident content. /'

I rv ing ' s ---- A Tour on the Pra i r ies i s a hook very d i f fe rent from the

Sketch Book. In i t , atemporal , episodic s t ruc ture i s replaced by firm

narrat ive sequence. So, too, does --- The Maine Noods d i f f e r from --- A Week on .

the Concord and Merrimack. Divagation has almost disappeared from the - -

l a t e r book, giving way to a narrat ive s t r i c tness . In Irving 's work, the

change can be a t t r ibuted to the s h i f t in location: the Oklahoma p ra i r i e ,

as y e t untraversed by 1 i t e ra tu re observers, was i t s e l f notice of news. w

To a l e s se r degree, the wilderness of Maine promised more i n the way of

discovery than the shores of the Concord and Merrimack could. B u t what

does appear clear ly i n both cases is th i s : f o r both Irving and Thoreau,

c lass ic travel narrat ive -- s t r i c t , spare and l i t e r a l -- was a f i t t i n g I

1 i t e r a ry form within which t o represent the New World. For Irving, the 3

-2 i

ccreation of what h e was to ca l l a "simple narrative" may have been a 2 r Y

for tui tous achievement i n his career -- a singularly ap t 1 i terary presentation $

i < 1

----- . . -- LA...

developing out of the conjunction of his descr ipt ive s k i l l and t h i s

exceptional experience. B u t f o r Thoreau the achievement of simp1 e

narration was the product of long and purposeful d r a f t . A par t of

~horeau ' s aes the t ic* rested on the significance of natural utterance -- jus t the kind* of denotative meaning expressed by the writings of New

World voyagers -- and h i s imitation of the travel genre ' i n --- A Keek on

the Concord and Merrimack Rivers was a s tep towards achieving natural -

l i t e r a r y form. From his l i fe long in t e res t i n the 1 i t e ra tu re of discovery

and travel he dweloped, as well as a devotion to the eloquence of

factual data decorously s t a t ed , a thorough ,l i terary sense of the c l a s s i c //

conventions of t h e genre. Digression was one of these conventions,

b u t digression in the c l a s s i c instance i s always organic, never induced

as i t i s in -- A Meek: journey commands s t ruc ture and digression serves

tha t s t ruc ture . Thoreau recognized and loved the f i tness of the travel

genre f o r making t ruthful , authentic 1 i terary statements about America,

but, f o r him, the d i f f i cu l ty lay in get t ing himself i n t o a f i e to r i ca l

position analogous to tha t of Nil 1 iam Byrd o r Wi 11 i am Bartram o r Samuel

Hearne or other journey-makers whose writings he knew. Assuming the

rhetorical of f ice of conveying de f in i t ive information on the basis of

original , author i ta t ive experience involved conscious manipulation of %

sty1 e and s t ruc ture . Thoreau was, a f t e r a1 1 , nei ther a discoverer nor

an explorer and barely a t r a v e l l e r a t a l l . Getting a t natural utterance

was a matter of great a r t i s t r y .

I

In t h e i r early work in the travel

romanticize the vagrant s p i r i t (and t h

genre, both Irving and

i s romanticism is i - tse

Thoreau

1 f a departure

from the c l a s s i c , nearly naive d

t r a v e l l e r ) . Later, we will look

iscourse of the tru

a t Thoreau's ear ly

ly matter-of-fact

travel doctrine and . .

his-self in the vagrant mode, but f i r s t we will cons

Irving, the romance of travel i n the Sketch Book and the r e a l i t y

travel in A Tour on the Pair ies . ----

For both wr i te rs , the f i r s t voyage out had great personal s gnif icance,

and from Irving i t e l i c i t e d statements as to his own character and

motive. In "The Author's Account of Himself" i n h i s Sketch Book he i

declares: " I was always fond of v i s i t i ng new scenes, and ohserv-lng

s t range characters and manners. ''l In this f i r s t chapter, Irving recall s

'boyish excursions through the "foreign parts" of h i s native c i t y and

i t s neighbourhood but the development of his "ran61 ing propensity"

proceeded on 1 i terary grounds as we1 1 : "Books of voyages and t ravels

became my passion.. . . " [p. 1 ) Khen the time comes f o r actual departure,

whatever the practical motives of the journey, the most s igni f icant

elements of the event a r e i t s connection with 1 i t e ra ry precedents i n the

t r ave l l e r ' s experience and i t s making of the t r ave l l e r in to the a r t i s t .

The consummation of th i s "passion" f o r the l i t e r a t u r e of travel i s

I rv ing ' s own pract ice of the genre. When he introduces his memoirs to

his audience he c l a i m no other inspirat ion than the normal o f f i ce of

the t o u r i s t : "As i t i s the fashion fo r modern tou r i s t s to travel pencil

i n hand, and bring home t h e i r portfol ios f i l l e d w i t h sketches, I am dis-

posed to get up a few f o r the entertainment of my fr iends" (p. 3 ) . The

mmirs a re convkntional , and t h e i r author d i f f iden t . B u t even t h i s

overt statement of ortbodoxy is qua1 i f ied by the author 's consciousness

of convention, and his recogpition of the currency of the l i t e r a r y fashion

he follows. And, fu r ther , he will not 1 e t his address cons is t merely i n

the propriety of his l i t e r a r y enterprise , f o r these apparently conventional

sketches have t h e i r own d is t inc t ion: "nooks, corners, and by-places"

rather than we1 1 -known and of ten-cel ebrated scenes will he discovered 0

and described. Irving announces the . newsworthiness . of h is document, and

i t depends upon the t o u r i s t ' s sensibi l i ty -- his in tu i t ion of 1 ittle-known

aspects of a now famil iar scene. I rv ing ' s remarks suggest f i r s t t ha t

obscure corners a re inherently more interest ing than the predictable '4

scenes rema.rked by the "regular" t o u r i s t and second tha t the i r regular +--d

t o u r i s t i s himself a more in te res t ing character fo r his whims and

eccent r ic i ty . His temperament i s the agent of the journey's importance.

In the Sketch Book, I rv ing ' s vision i s so episodic as to conform

to not even the ordinary requirements of the thinnest l i n e a r s t ruc ture

of travel narration. The absence of 1 inear s t ruc ture is , of course, a l so

the absence of data on t ransportat ion, accorranodation and amenity -- a l l

the de ta i l s t ha t a re so meticulously rendered in ---- A Tour on the P ra i r i e s . - Each sketch i s autonomous, b u t inexpressible without the pretext of

t rave l . Picturesque encounters and sentimental occasions a r e

incident to travel experience rather than sedentary 1 i f e , and only the

f a c t of the w r i t e r ' s being -- or having been -- abroad authorizes t h e i r

publication. In the Sketch Book the travel form i s a vehicle f o r sentiment,

humour, meditation and s tory referr ing to both the 01 d Nor1 d and the New,

for some important chapters -- "Sleepy Hollow," "Rip Van Winkle," "Traits

o f Indian Character, " and "Philip of Pokanoket" -- develop from American

rather than European experience. Having s e t out , the travel 1 e r - a r t i s t

has access to a formal l i t e r a r y occasion fo r a d ivers i ty of expression;

unspoken in tu i t ions and stored preparations emerge in to published s t ruc-

ture . The journey i t s e l f i s l i t t l e more than device o r abstract ion.

By the nineteenth century, readers of t ravels were well-versed in

aspects of trans-Atlantic voyages as introductions t o the w r i t e r ' s adven-

tures in another hemisphere; safe crossings, swif t or slow, were too cormon

to require detai led representation. Irving, however, makes a number of

pages out of his crossing, and t h i s i s a l l the more noteworthy in view

of the f a c t t ha t few of his subsequent sketches observe ordinary data

l i k e departures and a r r i v a l s . By seizing the 1 i terary value of t h i s

interval of his journey, Irving v t a b l ishes the a r t i s t i c importance of

t r ave l , namely, i t s introduction of the wri ter in to a sphere of change

and drama, fraught with suspense i n the precariousness of return. The br-

ocean passage

makes us conscious of being cas t loose from the secure anchorage of s e t t l e d l i f e , and sent a d r i f t upon a doubt- ful world. I t interposes a gulf , not merely imaginary,

a J u t r ea l , between us and our homes, -- a gulf subject t o tempest, and f ea r , and uncertainty , rendering di stance palpable, and return precarious ( p . 5 ) .

e.

"Who can t e l l , " he asks, "when he s e t s for th t o wander, whither he may be

driven by the uncertain events of existence.. . ? " (p. 5 ) Embarkation

suggests an entry not only into uncertainty but in to eventful existence . ,

i t s e l f . Certainly, f o r Irving, i t i s the entry in to h i s particular- a r t

and i t s medium, giving access to a l l the a t t i t udes he develops in his

sketches. In the notebook which supplied some of the material fo r the

Sketch Book, he contemplates a s imilar equivalence between experience

/

-- and t r ave l , although on a less optimistic plane:

I have seen the world I have tasted i t s pleasures I have explored i t s recesses & what have I gained what b u t a d i s t a s t e f o r 1 i f e a d i s t r u s t f o r man Oh t ha t I had neverpstrayed beyond the sol i tudes of my native A1 1 eghanys .

t

Obvious here a r e the connections between sedentary l i f e and innocence, and

between wandering and experience. To have "seen the world" car r ies both

i t s meanings -- t o h a v e journeyed f a r , and to have acquired moral know-

ledge of the ways of m e n .

Irving i s the f i r s t t r ave l l e r we have encountered who reverses the

westward migration, and, as such, i s harbinger of the large company of

voyagers who eventually depart the New World to make pilgrimages to the

O l d . He examines his motives in h is f i r s t chapter with enough irony to

assure his readers t h a t he undertakes his pilgrimage fu l ly aware of i t s

A great man of Europe, thought I , must . . . be as superior t o a great man of America as a peak of the Alps t o a highland of the Hudson; and i n t h i s idea I was confirmed by observing the comparative im- portance and swelling magnitude of many English t r ave l l e r s among us, who, I was assured, were very l i t t l e people in t h e i r own country. I will v i s i t t h i s land of wonders, thought I , and see the gigantic race from which I am degenerated ( p . 3 ) .

The idea of the humble Awrican paying his respects to a superior society

i s mostly a joke, and Irving .acknowledges the matchless asse ts of ~.

the New World: "never need an American looksbeyond h is own country fo r s

the sub1 ime and beautiful of natural scenery. " .However, his imagination

aspires to sotre other quant i ty , which. .Eurgpe can supply concretely: " I

longed t o wander over the scenes of renowned achievement, -- ' to t read,

2s i t were, in the footsteos of an t iqui ty , -- t o l o i t e r a5o'ut the ruined

c a s t l e , -- to meditate on the f a l l i n g tower, -- t o escape, in short , from

the commonplace r e a l i t i e s of the present, and lose myself among the shadowy

grandeurs of the past" ( p p . 2 - 3 ) . This sentence ca r r i e s him from the

actual wanderings of a pensive tourism to the f i n a l , desirable release

from "corrmonpl ace r e a l i t i e s " in to a romantically suggestive other-worl d .

?t r e l a t e s , in f a c t , the process of his a r t a t t h i s period.

In the f i r s t two o r three chapters of the Sketch Book the na r ra to r ' s

presence i s strongly represented in a l l i t s impressionable sens i t iv i ty and

intent ions. Thereafter i t i s subordinate t o other narrative a c t i v i t y -- comic, sentimental or expository. Herein resides the s t r ik ing difference

between the Sketch Book and the companion Notes While Preparing Sketch c .

Book & c . , 1817: in the l a t t e r the self-conscious speaker i s thoroughly

evident and act ive; in the former his personal sentiments a re absorbed

in to anecdote and generalization. The difference i s important because * the Sketch Book rea l ly does derive substantia'lly from the Notes; fo r a l l

i t s claim to be the report of a v i s i t o r to foreign "nooks" and "by-places,"

i t i s also the offspring of t h i s notebook col lect ion of intimate fragments

pertaining to some of the w r i t e r ' s inner most emotional experiences. The

notebo~k i s fu l l of useful scenic data and adro i t sketches of the pictur-

esque, b u t i t a l so documents Irving 's romantic a t t i t udes -- anguish, re-

morse, mystic hope, gr ie f f o r 1 o s t innocence. The biographical reference

for a l l t h i s i n t e r i o r cormtion i s generally assumed t o be the death, in

1807, of Irving's very young fiancge, Matilda Hoffman. His

notebook 1 ament over Mati 1 da demonstrates the prodess which

and loss into a l i t e r a r y frame. A t a point during Irving 's

most sustained

projects sorrow

English sojourn,

the voices of a cathedral choir s t i r an intense gr ie f i n the aud i tb r ' s

breast :

--my heart melted a t the words I drew into a corner of the cathedral and covering my face with my hands drank in the exquisi te ly mournful sound. My heart f e l t as i f i t would melt within me -- the recol lect ion of Matilda -- (p. 63) .

He continues f o r a page and more with doleful re f lec t ion on the departed

g' ir l , her ce l e s t i a l purity and his own debasement and entanglement in *

"heart less pleasure" and "gross associations." B u t what i s especial ly

in te res t ing about t h i s notebook entry i s i t s conclusion: "Whi 1 e these

re f lec t tons music ceased -- crowd dispersed. -- sees old woman to t te r ing

to the grave of a son --" (p. 6 4 ) . Even in th i s presumably spontaneous

t ex t , Irving i s aware of the outward se t t ing of h is reverie , the formal

relat ionship between scene and utterance, and the d iscree t frame within

which 1 i terary emotions occur. The choi r ' s "mournful sound" begins the

meditation; the music's end concludes i t . And there i s the s l i g h t b u t

important gesture towards an exemplary i l l u s t r a t i o n of gr ief -- "sees old

woman to t t e r ing to the grave of a son." Assuming tha t h i s use of the

th i rd person verb i s not mere carelessness, we f ind 1rving introducing

an a t t en t ive spectator watching the bereaved -mother. From here we can

move d i r ec t ly t o the Sketch Book, where the minor gesture of omniscient

perception i s expanded in to a poignant chapter, "The Widow and her Son."

In t h i s chapter, the only and beloved son of an aged couple i s impressed

in to maritime service, and disappears into the larger world; the fa ther

expires from gr ie f ; the l o s t son returns only t o collapse on a couch and

d ie . The narrator of the t a l e i s a contemplative and inquis i t ive t o u r i s t

-- l i k e I r v i n g h i m s e l f where he emerges f rom melancholy m e d i t a t i o n t o

take an i n t e r e s t i n t h e g r a v e - v i s i t o r -- who i s f i r s t touched by the

appearance o f t he i n f i r m o l d woman i n a r u r a l church and l a t e r a t t h e

graveside and who then s o l i c i t s f rom one o f t he funeral a t tendan ts t h e

d e t a i l s o f the widow's misery. These elements a r e t r a n s f e r r e d f rom the

Notes t o t h e pub l ished t e x t : t h e fragmentary v i s i o n o f t h e " t o t t e r i n g " Z

woman, the s e t t i n g p rov ided by t h e church, and a l l t he sensat ions o f ~.

g r i e f , l o s s and v i c

med i ta t i on .

Whereas i n the

Ma t i l da Hoffman b u t

s s i tude assoc ia ted w i t h M a t i l d a ' s death i n I r v i n g ' s

Notes t h e sense o f l o s s -- n o t merely i n re ference t o

i n regard t o a l l o f human m u t a b i l i t y -- i s personal

and imnediate, i n t h e Sketch Book i t i s t r a n s l a t e d i n t o anecdotal com-

misera t ions and i n t o an i n v e s t i g a t i v e i n t e r e s t i n sepu l tu re . "Rural

Funerals" i s an e x p o s i t o r y chapter which g ives another dimension t o t h e

in terment o f t h e w i d o w ' s son and which i n d i r e c t l y subs tan t ia tes a l a t e r

chapter, "Pr ide o f t h e V i l l a g e , " desc r ib ing the death and b u r i a l o f a

heart -broken v i r g i n . I n "Rural Funerals ," I r v i n g exp la ins t h a t " the re

i s a vo ice f rom t h e tomb sweeter than song" (p . 147), and t h a t t h e "na tu ra l

e f f e c t o f sorrow over t h e dead i s t o r e f i n e and e l e v a t e t h e mind" (p. 143).

The quasi-schola;ly concern w i t h sep'ul t u r e a n d the sent imental , f i c t i o n a l

a t t e n t i o n t o bereavement are o a r t o f an exerc ise i n mental enrichment.

What concerns us here i s f i r s t t h a t t h e exe rc i se takes p lace abroad -- a t

the o u t s e t I r v i n g knew t h a t t h e p a r t i c u l a r fore ignness he sought was t h a t

o f decay and loss , the " ru ined c a s t l e " and t h e " f a l l i n g tower" -- and

second t h a t , with t h e t r a v e l venture, he i s n o t o n l y re leased from "comnon-

place r e a l i t i e s " b u t a l so introduced to the s i t e s and occasions which

permit a controlled, decent a r t icu la t ion of some ponderous thoughts. To

- depart the shores of America was to en ter f igurat ively as well as actual ly

an imaginatively suggestive milieu and t o begin t o contact an6 enact some

of his solemn preoccupations wi t h mortal i ty and mortuary. To undertake ,

travel was also t o adopt a l i t e r a r y s t ruc ture which encou'raged a medi ta-

t i v e , sentimental reply to the human condition without requiring any re-

solution t o those obscure regrets which he cherishes and which arouse the

sweet "voice from the tomb." The fragmentary form of the Sketch Book per-

mi t s t i t i 1 l a t ing encounters with death and remorse without overtly imp1 i ca t -

i ng the travel le r -nar ra tor . Abroad, Irving frequents foreign .tombs and

A graves, a fascinated voyeur peering a t picturesque bereavement.

In the Sketch Book we follow Irving rambling a t large through a

suggestive landscape of ancient sepulchres. I n A Tour on the

P ra i r i e s , writ ten f i f t e e n years a f t e r the Sketch Book when Irving had Y returned t o America, he composes under very d i f fe rent conditions. F i r s t ,

in place of mementos of the very ancient, he i s confronted with the very

new -- an uninhabited t r a c t of Oklahmoa pra i r ie . Second, in place of a

loose, permissive s t ruc ture of independent narrat ive uni t s , a def in i t ive

temporal and spa t ia l organization contains his discourse. Along with

t h i s comes a change i n s ty l e : I rv ing ' s prose i s no longer excursively

anecdotal b u t thoroughly a t ten t ive t o i m d i a t e circumstances. The mor-

b id i ty and melancholy tha t give the Sketch Book i t s sentimental colouring

are replaced by a robust pleasure in an absorbing adventure. \ -

During his homecoming t rave ls in America, Irving met Henry Ellsworth,

who had been appointed to conduct a mil i tary expedition in to the Indian

h u n t i n g grounds on the Oklahoma p ra i r i e , and who invited Irving to accom-

pany him as an o b ~ e r v ~ r . Irving accepted Ellsworth's invi tation*"readily,

, and turned out to be a capable and .adaptable f ron t i e r t r ave l l e r . The ex-

pedi t ion i t s e l f i s the frame of A Tour on the Pra i r ies . In h is "Author's

Introduction" to the volume he i n s i s t s t h a t he has "no wonders to describe,"

and tha t his report i s b u t "a simple narrative of every day occurrences;

such as happen to every one w h q t ravels the p ra i r i e s . " 4 This announcement

i s ra ther d i f fe rent from the "Author's Account of Himself" in the Sketch - B O O ~ , which prepares the reader fo r imaginative departures in to "nooks"

and "by-places" remote from "cormnplace r e a l i t i e s . " In the Tour Irving

i s much more concerned w-i-th social and economic demonstrations of r e a l i t y -- "everyday occurrences" -- and with his own gradual comprehension of th i s

f ron t i e r instance of existence. A1 though the p ra i r i e he crossed was, to

his readers, a more extraordinary s i t e than many of the se t t ings of the

Sketch Book anecdotes, Irving describes the prairie. as ordinary, and the

Euopean scene. as uncomnon. he d is t inc t ion he makes i s actual ly the dis-

t inc t ion between the 1 i teral motive of the Tour and the a1 lusive motive of

the Sketch Book.

I rving 's devotion to realism in t h i s book creates a t i g h t , balanced

narrat ive; few excursive ref1 ections dis turb the regular rhythm of the 'L -

journey. The a r t i s t ' s discovery of his own a t t i t udes vis-a-vis the journey - - *

i s a1 ways d i r ec t ly related to the par t icu lar a c t i v i t i e s of the travel l e r s

and i t s connection w i t h reported experience i s always c l ea r . The mission

was documented a lso by others who made the t r i p , Ellsworth most notably,

and John McDermottls' introduction and notes to the 1956 edi t ion of the

Tour describe some di screpancies between f a c t and I rv ing ' s account r- B u t

these are neither so numerous nor so consequential as to undermine the

essent ia l ly 1 i t e ra l , denotative s p i r i t of the book.

I rving 's role i n the mission i s an interest ing issue. He had some

negligible and dispensable o f f i c i a l s t a tus , as secre tary , b u t principal l j

he set- out as Ellsworth's guest. In one respect, he was, as an experienced

trave1lPr and wr i te r , undertaking a venture sui ted to h is vocation and

. temperament. In another respect , he was entering an unfamiliar sphere,

abandoning accustomed scenes of c iv i l ized l i f e f o r a desolate, remote

t e r r a in . .Irv;ing's c o m d i ous i n t e l l igence hosts both these conditions,

making. him both part of the scene, as a seasoned t r ave l l e r making y e t

another passage, and not par t of the scene, as a detached observer taking '

a close sighting on an unfamiliar phenomenon. H i s a b i l i t y t o manage these

two roles simultaneously i s perhaps what gives the Tour i t s "every day" -.+

q u a l i t i e s , and deprives i t of the "wonders" a n d heroics tha t a one-sided

view might have created. Irving part ic ipates in the rangers' a c t i v i t i e s

-- eating camp meals, fording r ive r s , even hunting buffalo -- b u t t h i s

participatory s t r a i n (which might have led t o a wonderful , "adventure"

narrat ive) i s qual i f ied by a spectator ial mood (which, alone, might have

led t o a contemplative or sentimental nar ra t ive) . Working together, the

participatory and the spectator ial create a forceful document.

The character of the social un i t comprised o f the randomly-mustered

rangers who make up Ellsworth's troop i s central t o I rv ing ' s i n t e r e s t .

Although he r ides with them and camps with them, Irving also sees them

from an analyt ic d i s t ance , detecting the picturesque or sometimes comic d

arrangement of t h e i r numbers. Again and again he i s struck by the appear-

ance and design of the night camp. Here i s one among many examples of his

descriptive practice when the encampment inspires Irving 's special type

of portrai ture:

In t h i s rocky nook we encamped, among t a l l t rees . The rangers gradually joined us, straggling through the fores t singly or i n groups; some on horseback, some on foot , dripping wet, having fa l len into the r iver ; f o r they had experienced much fatigue and trouble from the l eng th of the ford, and the depth and rap-id-ity of the stream. They looked not unlike bandi t t i returning with t h e i r plunder, and the wild dell was a r e t r e a t worthy t o receive them. The e f fec t was heightened a f t e r dark, when the l i g h t of the f i r e s was cas t upon rugged looking groups of men and horses; with baggage tumbled in heaps, r i f l e s piled against the t rees , and saddles, br id les , and powderhorns hanging about t h e i r trunks (p. 74) .

This paragraph i s typical par t icular ly in the constructive action of Irving's

prose. I t begins with one locating f a c t -- the s i t e among t a l l t rees --

and s ta t ions the witness there, or close by. I t then introduces, one

by one, the elements which will const i tute the finished picture: the

rangers arr iving, t h e i r laden horses, the sodden condition of baggage and

animals, the fat igue of laborious t ravel . Objects and a t t r ibu tes accumulate.

Then a romantic, nearly Gothic allusion -- "banditt i returning with the i r

plunder" -- establ ishes the genre in which the picture i s being created,

but without disturbing the acute realism which col lec ts and disposes the

materials of the construction. Final l y , some concrete, explanatory de-

t a i 1 s complete and place the arrangement: "baggage," " r i f l e s , " "saddles,

br idles and powderhorns" inform the observer and his audience of the pre-

c i se function of t h i s picturesque group. They a re horsemen, t ravel l ing a

distance, carrying provisions and weapons against the hunger or hos t i l i t y

they might meet on this empty plain. The scene i s evocative not just i n Q

s p i t e of b u t because of i t s spec i f i c i ty .

Except f o r a few occasions when he i s l i t e r a l l y carr ied away o r

cer ta in ly absorbed by his own personal adventures, Irving i s always in a

posit ion to see and t o reconstruct the picturesque. Sometimes he makes a

del iberate e f f o r t t o place himself advantageously so as to capture an

ant icipated scene. More than once he hangs back from the body of a c t i v i t y

i n order t o grasp the essence of each morning's decampment: " I s a t on a

rock tha t overhung the spring a t the upper part of the d e l l , and amused

myself by watching the changing scene before me. Fi r s t the preparations

f o r depature.. . . I1 ( p . 81 ) After a comprehensive, sebuential inventory 1

of the visual and auditory impressions which cornprisebhe packing and

m o u n t i n g , he i s l e f t alone, or alnmst alone, only the rear-guard remain-

* ing a t the s i t e , and he concludes with a one-sentence paragraph s t a t ing

the sensory content of the completed scene:

The clamor of voices and the notes of the bugle a t length died away, and the glen relapsed into quie t and s i lence , broken occasionally by the low murmuring tone of the group around the f i r e , or the pensive whistle of s o w laggard among the t rees ; or the rus t - l ing of the yellow leaves, which the l igh tes t breath of a i r brought down in wavering showers, a sign of the departing glor ies of the year (p. 81).

I rving 's description not only reconstructs a l l the sensory evidence o f the

m m e n t , b u t , a s wel l , expands the focus o f his prose to connect the par-

t i cu la r s o f the occasion w i t h the larger natural environment, and with the - -

2utumnal q u a l i t y of a l l d e ~ a r t u r e s . And even so subt le an omniscience

i s ke?t i n check by I rv ing ' s simple statement of his vantage during t h i s

??isode: he saw th i s because, as he says, he " sa t on a rock ... a t the

1

/ upper par t of the dell ," prepared t o see , and not disappointed i n his ex-

pectati ons . -

Another aspect of t h i s passage i s important to the a r t with which

Irving t e l l s his "simple narrat ive. " While he occasionally reminds him-

se l f of the sublime imnensity and vacuity of the wilderness he traverses

- - "a l l s i l e n t , l i f e l e s s , without a human habitation, and apparently with-

out a human inhabitant!" (p. 84) -- he i s more concerned w i t h the human

passage through the 1 andscape than with the landscape i t s e l f . His sensi-

t ive t e l l i n g of departures, such as the one described above, i s his most

e f f ec t i ve way of determi n i ng the meaning of wil derness . When the company

-- t h i s - contingent, isolated social organism -- moves on, the p ra i r i e

closes in behind, with i t s intractable s i lence and comnanding vastness.

I t i s imnense and enduring in re la t ion t o the human group and i t e x i s t s ,

in the narrat ive, only i n re la t ion t o tha t group, Much l a t e r in the Tour,

Irving i s again inclined to l inger over the evidence of decampment, human

scratchings on a huge natural surface, and t h i s time discovers in the

debris of a night 's habitation a po r t r a i t of man's economic condition.

Although i t i s a long passage to include here, I will c i t e i t en t i r e ly

for i t s s y s t 6 t i c docufffentation o f data re la t ing t o the s i t e and occasion,

and for i t s introduction of another theme of the Tour:

About ten o 'c lock, we began our march. I loi tered i n the rear of the troop as i t forded the t u r b i d brook and defiled tkrwgh the t a b y r i n a s of the fores t , I always f e f t disposed t o l inger a f t e r the l a s t s t raggler disappeared-mng thttree-s-a& the d i s t an t note of-the ---

bugle died upon the ear , t ha t I might behold the wilder- ness relapsing into s i lence and sol i tude. In the present instance, the deserted scene of o u r l a t e bustl ing encamp- ment had a for lorn and desolate appearance. The surround- ing fores t had been in many places trampled in to a quagmire.

"Hides

t i v e l y

wbol e

o f t he

Trees f e l l e d and p a r t l y hewn i n pieces, and s c a t t e r e d i n huge fragments; t en t -po les s t r i p p e d of t h e i r cover- ing ; smouldering f i r e s , w i t h g r e a t morsels o f roas ted -

venison and b u f f a l o meat, s tand ing wooden s p i t s b e f o r e them, hacked and s lashed b y t h e kn ives o f hungry hunters; w h i l e around were st rewn t h e h ides, t he horns, t h e a n t l e r s , and bones of b u f f a l o e s and deer, w i t h uncooked j o i n t s , and unplucked turkeys, l e f t behind w i t h t h a t reck less improvidence and wastefu lness which young hunters a r e a p t t o i n d u l g e when i n a neighborhood where game abounds. I n t h e meantime a score o r two of t u rkey - - buzzards, o r v u l t u r e s , were a l r e a d y h i g h i n t h e a i r , and p repa r ing f o r a descent upon t h e camp as soon as i t should be abandoned (pp. 169-70).

," "horns," " a n t l e r s , " "bones,"-.meat "hacked and s lashed" a r e ob jec-

repor ted . I tems a re documented a lmost w i t h o u t c o m n t a r y , y e t t h e

i s f i n a l l y more than t h e sum o f t h e p a r t s . The separate components

cata logue beg in t o f u n c t i o n j u s t beyond t h e 1 i t e r a l l e v e l , con-

t r i b u t i n g t o t h e express ion o f t he s p e c t a t o r ' s a t t i t u d e towards the hunt .

Hunt i ng i n t e r e s t s I r v i n g throughout . From the s t a r t , the rangers,

wno a r e most ly young and e x c i t a b l e , a n t i c i p a t e abundant game on t h e . p r a i r i e

and p r e d i c t fabulous e x p l o i t s . They a r e experienced woodsmen and they soon

beg in t o bag fow l and beast i n l a r g e q u a n t i t i e s . So f e v e r i s h i s t h e i r r:

preda to ry energy t h a t they a r e s c a r c e l y kep t i n r e i n by t h e i r capta in , and

I r v i n g b o t h admires t h e i r h i g h s p i r i t s and laughs a t t h e i r rampant enthu-

siasm. A1 though t h e s l a u g h t e r i s o f t e n excessive, the hunters do p rov ide

the necessar ies o f s u r v i v a l . But I r v i n g comes t o regard t h e h u n t i n g econ-

ony o f the i t i n e r a n t company w i t h ambivalence. H i s uneasiness over heed-

:ess waste i s ' f i n a l l y sharpened t o o u t r i g h t d i s t a s t e . - - -

H i s repugnance, however, i s con f i ned t o h i s personal experience, and

does n o t b l i & h i s e s t i i a t e o f h i s companicns. I r v i n g ' s scrupulousness

i c f n i s ~ a t t e r c o n t r i b d t e s t o t h e c l a r i t y o f h i s n a r r a t i v e . He corns t o

recognize the a t t i t udes which distinguish h i m from h i s fellows, and which 3

determine h is ideological place in the expedition. His account of a

buffalo h u n t , and of h is own success in bringing dpwn one of the animals,

re la tes both his assimilation in to the frenzied s p i r i t of the chase and

his subsequent r e t r e a t f r o the position t o which i t leads him. When he I f e l l s h is quarry, he dismounts to examine i t :

Now tha t the excitement was over, I could not but look with corniseration upon the poor animal tha t lay struggling and bleeding a t my fee t . His very s i z e and importance, which had before inspired me- w i t h eagerness, now increased my compunction. I t seemed a s 2 i f I had in f l i c t ed pain i n proportion to the bulk o f my victim, and as i f there were a hundred- fold greater waste of l i f e than there would have been in the destruction of an animal of in fe r io r s i z e ( p . 178).

The social and economic ethos of the 1it t le.conmunity of which he i s tem-

porarily a meabw describes the death o f the animal as a victory. Irving,

aft* being inspired and propelled by tha t ethos, f inds tha t he cannot

endorse i t ; i t does not s u i t him. And the matter goes no fur ther . He

makes no c r i t ic i sm of the other f r a n t i c hunters, b u t merely records the

evident personal experience. Through t h j s , his empiricism holds firm,

t rea t ing his own actions in the pursui t of the buffalo, and recording the

ac t iv i ty of an aggravated conscience beholding "the wreck I had so wan-

tonly produced" ( p . 179). S t r i c t 1 imitations govern sentimentali ty in

the Tour -- l imitat ions which in the Sketch Book a r e del iberately s e t

as ide to allow t h e s e n t + ~ n t a f imagination an open forum. - - - - - - - -

To express h is social v i sion, Irving resor t s t o a gentle s a t i r e .

Gonedy i s appropriate not because the rangers a re ridiculous -- which, in

s p i se o f t h e i r motley costurns and r u s t i c , unmilitary ways, they are not

-- but because comedy i s the best way t o capture a t a distance the essence 4

of the co$tingent comrnuni t y . The funniest episode in the Tour i s the

"Alarm Camp" chapter wherein Irving describes the an t i c disorder which

disrupts the troop when a r ide r rushes into camp to announce breathlessly

tha t Pawness have been sighted:

There was now a scene of clamor and confusion tha t baffles a1 1 description. The rangers were scamper- ing about the adjacent f i e l d in pursuit of t h e i r horses. One might be seen tugging h i s steed along by a ha l t e r ; another without a hat , r iding bare-backed; another driving a hobbled horse before him, t h a t made .

awkward 1 eaps 1 i ke a kangaroo (p. 129).

Rurnour swells the number of the advancing horde t o three hundred and more.

Horsemen run about looking for t h e i r saddles, and then dash o f f , willy-

ni l l y , t o confront the foe. The d6nouement reveals tha t the legion of

warriors was en t i r e ly a projection of these untried, anxious young so l ide r s ,

and tha t the mysterious sighting had been only t h a t of one ranger by

another, from a d is tan t ridge. But, however fan tas t ica l the enemy, the

~ a n i c was real , and the fears of attack by hos t i l e savages throughout

the campaign was an indication of real conditions. Irving i s amused by

tne a l a r m (he doesn ' t mention his own reaction t o i t ) . However, h i s amuse- I nent i s not condescensiorn b u t a way of describing an isolated human com-

muni ty be1 ieving i n i t s own danger.

The memorable characterizations of Beattle and Tonish, half-breed

~ u n t e r and cook attached t o Ellsworth's and Irving 's party, a re products

3 f the sane comic social vision t h a t creates "The Alam Camp." Tonish,

'72 cook, i s a l l garrulous vanity, foolish energy and inept i tude; h is

f o i 1 i s Beatte, a t ac i tu rn , splendidly capable woodsman. McDermott's

i n t r o d u c t i o n and notes suggest t h a t I r v i n g took l i b e r t i e s w i t h t h e r e a l

Tonish t o c rea te the l i t e r a r y Tonish and s e t up t h e comic c o n t r a s t w i t h

Beat te. Never theless, t h e two men do represent t h e c a r e f u l l y observed

extremes o f conduct p o s s i b l e under these f r o n t i e r c o n d i t i o n s . Bea t te

fasc ina tes I r v i n g , i n t h e way t h e I n d i a n Guide, Joseph P o l i s , fasc ina tes

Thoreau i n the "A l legash and East Branch" essay i n The Maine Woods.

B e a t t e ' s e x t r a o r d i n a r y competence i s e x h i l a r a t i n g , bu t , because o f t h e

con tex t which h i s au tho r es tab l i shes f o r h im and i n which h i s f e a t s a r e

reckoned, Beat te i s n o t a hero. He coul

o f f r o n t i e r romance; o r , s e n t i m e n t a l i t y

p reda t i on i n t o a contempt ib le carnage.

i z e s . Instead, I r v i n g honours Beat te w i

d have been, h e r o i c a l l y , a k n i g h t

cou ld have tu rned B e a t t e ' s s k i 1 f u l

But n e i t h e r p o s s i b i l i t y m a t e r i a l -

t h an a p p r e c i a t i v e c h a r a c t e r i z a t i o n ,

b u t avoids r o m a n t i c i z i n g him by devel'oping a personal v i s i o n o f na tu re t h a t

i s n o t t he woodsman's.

Beat te i s s t i l l t h e archetypa l hunter , and, I r v i n g says, f u l l o f

" t r u e knowledge." Bu t p a r t o f I r v i n g ' s t ask as t r a v e l n a r r a t o r i s t o

measure B e a t t e ' s con tex t , i n q u i r e i n t o h i s h a b i t s and p r a c t i c e s , , and, i n

so doing, c r e a t e a more comprehensive v i s i o n o f t h e journey across t h e 1

p l a i n . We w i l l f i n d t h a t t h i s i s Thoreau's task, too, when he considers

Joseph P o l i s and the romance he m igh t rake o f h im i n "The A l legash and

East Branch" i n The h i n e Woods.

A Tour on the P r a i r i e s has i t s nogebook source as the Sketch Book

d i d . The Western Journa ls of blashington I r v i n g , however, a r e much b e t t e r

read ing than t h e notes antecedent t o t h e Sketch Book. I n f a c t , I r v i n g ' s

no te - tak ing i n t h e Western-Journals i s o f t e n so e loquent and a r r e s t i n g as

t o suggest t h a t t h e p r a c t i c e i n i t s e l f comprises a unique 1 i t e r a r y medium.

I n t h e " 4 u t h o r t s I n t r o d u c t i o n " t o t h e Tour, I r v i n g c la ims t h a t he t r a v e l l e d .

i n America w i t h o u t 1 i t e r a r y i n t e n t i o n s - % or , a t l e a s t , w i t h o u t i n t e n t i o n s c. - of p u b l i c a t i o n .-- and suggests t h a t p u b l i c expecta t ions have v ' i r t l l a l l y

f o rced him i n t o p r i n t :

! laving s i n c e my r e t u r n t o t h e Un i ted States, made a wide and v a r i e d tour , f o r t h e g r a t i f i c a t i o n o f my c u r i o s i t y , i t has been supposed t h a t I d i d i t f o r t h e purpose of w r i t - a book; and i t has more than once been i n t i m a t e d i n the_.papers, t h a t such a work was a c t u a l l y i n t h e press, c o n t a i n i n g scenes and sketches o f t h e Far West. ,,r

These announcements, g r a t u i t o u s l y made f o r me, b e f o r e I had p u t pen t o paper, o r even contemplated any t h i n g o f t h e k ind , have embarrassed me exceedingly . I have been l i ke a poor a c t o r , who f i n d s h i m s e l f announced f o r a p a r t he had no though t o f p lay ing , and h i s appearance expected on the s tage be fo re he has committed a 1 i n e t o memory (p. 9 ) .

I n s p i t e of these d i s c l a i m e r s , I r v i n g had i n hand a c o l l e c t i o n o f

observa t ions gathered on h i s t r a v e l s . Only t h e notes d e a l i n g w i t h t h e t

Oklahoma e x p e d i t i o n reached book-form: " I have, as i t were, p lucked a few *

leaves o u t o f my memorandum book, containing; month's f o r a y beyond t h e

ou tpos ts o f human h a b i t a t i o n s , i n t o t h e w i lderness o f t h e Far West" (p. 9 ) .

- The notes as a whole a r e more d e t a i l e d , d e s c r i p t i v e and comprehensive than

those used f o r t h e Sketch Book, and they a r e organ ized on much more sys temat ic

p r i n c i p l e s . Th is cou ld suggest t h a t t h e d i f f i d e n c e he e x h i b i t s i n t h e

passages above i s no more than t h e convent iona l g e n u f l e c t i o n w i t h which an

a u t h o r can address h i s audience. O r t h e d i f f i d e n c e may be more a u t h e n t i c

than t h a t , and t h e cmprehensiveness o f t h e Western Jou rna l s my have been

e f fec ted f o r i t s own sake. I propose t h i s t o account f o r t h e l i t e r a r y grace

o f some o f t h e passages i n t he Jou rna l s which c rea tes a f f e c t i n g ve rba l

f ragments. For i n s t a t c e , t h e h i g h r e a l i s m o f these phrases has a p e c u l i a r

power :

e ,+

Squaws r iding w i t h umbrellas &- warm day -- wide, t r ee l e s s p ra i r i e -- trembling with heat -- columns of smoke hanging l a z i l y i n various d i rec t ions of horizon -- 5

I t may be the thoroughness of I rv ing ' s documentary intentions t h a t produces

such vividness.; the combination of unrelenting inquiry in to the s t ruc ture

of each scene w i t h impressionistic rendering of every circumstance creates

these l i t e r a r y moments. Always these moments a r e heightened by Irving 's

.careful observance of the locus of his own perception. Here, when in wet

weatker he resor t s t o h i s t en t , auditory impressions a r e the only accountable

- $ evidence of the a c t i v i t y of the camp around him:

I had prepared my bed in the open a i r l a s t night -- when iot began t o ra in , crept into the t en t -- sound of the axe i n a l l quarters -- men cut t ing poles to make booths of blankets &c. (p. 146). c-.

Sometimes the note-taking technique can reconstruct circumstances w i t h

greater acuity than narrat ive can. When the mqpany nears the end of the

expedition, the e f f ec t s of-exhaustion and famine a r e expressed i n short ,

s t ra ined sentences : '

We a r e fold the ford i s about 9 miles off -- on we go -- the miles s t r e t ch -- the horses t i r e -- we dismount, being

i? fatigued ourselves -- m o u n t again -- the horses stagger -- lag behind -- [ f l i ngs? ] -- Pourtales f logs him on -- a t length h e gives out -- & the wild c o l t 1 ikewise (p. 149).

The firm narrat ive shape of A Tour on the Pra i r ies must be a t t r i b u t a b l e in

par t t o the precision and method--of the note-taking. From his American

t ravels Irving selected one par t icu lar episode -- the Oklahoma expedition -- for book-making, ra ther than t r a n s l a t e the general i ty of his experience

into vignettes and sketches. ,The New World suggested t h i s spec i f i c i ty , -

a s the Old World suggested meditative projections, and associated with the

change in s t y l e and s t ruc ture i s IrYing's development of the documentary

impressionism apparent in the Westem Journals, . so del iberately and a r t f u l l y

bonded t o an ascer 'hined r e a l i t y .

, Seven days of travel on , the Concord and Merrimack might have cal led f o r

a narrat ive as "simple" as I rv ing ' s Tour, one chronologically lucid and

descr ipt ively constrained. And Thoreau's name f o r the excursion he made

with h is brother l a t e i n the summer of 1839, A Week on the Concord and

Merrimack Rivers, suggests j u s t such delimitation. However, i n the narrat ive

which,ensues, s implici ty i s soon sacr if iced t o Thoreau's l i t e r a r y ambition t o

establ ish the document's re lat ioqship to voyage 1 i t e ra ture of much grea ter

temporal and spa t ia l reference. Through complex documentation -- digression,

interpolat ion, poetry, exposi t jon and quotation a1 1 contained by the diurnal

headings "Saturday" t o "Friday" -- Thoreau transcends the l i t e r a l l imitat ions

of t h i s week in 1839 and t rave ls to grea t lengths t o make the generic

connections with the l i t e r a t u r e of d i ~ s o v e r y . The event cannot stand alone

( a s Thoreau ' s Maine t rave ls do, l a t e .in his career ) ; only with extraordinari ly

complex narrat ive s t ruc ture do the Concord and Merrimack_become r ivers to

wri te about or does the brothers ' trip become an h is tor ica l voyage.

I n ~ ~ ~ e e k on the Concord and Merrimack, Thoreau assumes h is rhetorical

authori ty on the basis of expatiation: To c rea te h is document he enlarges

on his journey, taking into account every meaning t h a t could be detected in -

the seminal event and exploring every conceivable l i t e r a r y consequence.

Reflecting, perhaps, on the narrat ive s t ruc ture he was creating.. to manage a

t h ; comprehensiveness, and convinced of the veri simi 1 tude and authent ic i ty -

avai lable through expat.iation, Thoreau says; on Thursday:

We can never safely exceed the actual f a c t s in our narrat ives . ' O f pure i m n t i o n , mch a s sme suppose, there i s no irrstsnc%. To wri te a t rue work of f i c t i o n i s only to. take l e i su re and 1 ibekty t o decribe some things .more exactly as they a r e . . . . Most t r a b e l l e r s have not se l f respect enough t o do t h i s simply.. . . 6 ' .

"Fiction" here stands for departures from the 1 ingar narrat ive sequence; 0 * '

i t i s a s t ruc tu ra l conceot. " ~ e i s u r e . and l iber ty" a r e s t ruc tura] principles a

L . a

permitting divigation and interpolat ion, which expand the seven days into a

she l t e r f o r the w r i t e r ' s whole body of thought and learning. Within t h i s p <

aes the t i c , omission of even the most remotely associated ideas compromises

the accuracy and correctness of the whole.

This comprehensiveness was no random l i t e r a r y goal; Thoreau knew t h a t

travel narrat ive could achieve large meanings. As John Aldrich Chr i s t i e ' s

book, Thoreau a s World Traveler, conc7usively demonstrates, one of the

most important parts of Thoreau's 1 i f e was the reading of t ravel 1 i t e r a tu re .

Chr is t ie establ ishes a bibliography of 183 travel publ icat ions -- journals, *

narrat ive, o f f i c i a l reports -- which Thoreau read and some ofrwhich he b-

re-read. From the most valuable he laboriously copied long passages into

his notebooks. This reading and copying are ingredients in the c rea t ive

process which produced A Week, and l a t e r , A Yankee in Canada and Cape Cod.

The r ive r voyage i & e l f i s only a segment of the travel described in A Week;

the r e s t i s studious t r ave l , compilation, comparison and c i t a t i o n .

Thoreau's experience in travel l i t e r a t u r e not only suggested the larger

references his own travel narrat ive could incorporate, b u t a1 so provided the

l i t e r a r y conventions which could give authority t o his persona? voyage, One of

these conventions i s the systematic journal-writing of explorers and navigators, 4

and Thoreau observed the pract ice of important t r a v e l l e r s in ke4ping a log-

book during his week on the r ive r . I t enters into the f ina l t ex t 0~cas i0 t Ia l ly :

A f i r e crackled w r r i l y before the entrance [ t o a makeshift t e n t ) , so near t h a t we c w f d at tend i t without stepping abroad, and when we had supped, we put out the blaze, and closed the door, and with the' semblance uf &~SstTc c&ifoFt, s a t u p t o reads theGazetteet-, t o learn our l a t i t ude and longitude, and wri te the journal of the voyage, or l i s tened t o the wind and the rippling of the r ive r t i l l sleep overtook us f p. 119) .

Zet2mining l a t i t u d e a n d longitude makes a larger navigation out of t h i s a

rrall one, and writing ':the journal of the voyage" e n l i s t i the t r ave l l e r s

i n a t r a d i t i o n o f d i scove re rs and g loba l nav iga tors . Bu t here, i n A Week,

t h e j o u r n a l i s no t t h e u l t i m a t e t e x t o f t h e experience. I n f a c t , Thoreau

f e e l s t h a t i t i s l i m i t e d i n t h e ground i t can cover , because o f i t s l i n e a r i t y

and because i t s composi t ion does n o t i n v o l v e t h a t "1 e i s u r e and 1 i b e r t y "

necessary t o exac t and comprehensive t r a v e l w r i t i n g :

Un fo r tuna te l y , many t h i n g s have been omi t ted which shou ld have been s e t down i n ou r j o u r n a l ; for though we made i t a r u l e t o s e t down a l l o u r experiences t h e r e i n , y e t such r e s o l u t i o n i s v e r y hard t o keep, f o r t h e impor tan t exper ience r a r e l y a l l o w s us t o remember such o b l i g a t i o n s , and so i n d i f f e r e n t t h i n g s g e t recorded, w h i l e t h a t i s f r e q u e n t l y neglected. It i s not easy t o w r i t e i n a j o u r n a l what i n t e r e s t s us a t any t ime, because t o w r i t e i s no t what i n t e r e s t s us (p . 354) .

I n t h i s phase o f journey ing , w r i t i n g and t r a v e l a r e separate a c t i v i t i e s

( " t o w r i t e i s no t what i n t e r e s t s u s " ) . The " impor tan t experience,'' obscured

by t h e immediate b f f i c e o f t h e j o u r n a l , i s one which i s revea led o n l y i n t h e

r e t r o s p e c t i v e , e x p a t i a t i v e phase o f t r a v e l , when " t o w r i t e " i s indeed

"what i n t e r e s t s us." Then, when t h e w r i t e r i s n o t bound by l i n e a r i t y ,

n a r r a t i v e d i scu rs i veness and d i g r e s s i o n ge t a t these " impor tan t " meanings.

T r a n s i t i o n s between t h e d i u r n a l , j o u r n a l -based t e x t which d e s t r i bes

t he b o a t ' s progress on t h e waterway and t h e sometimes extremely 1 engthy,

essay-1 i k e med i ta t i ons a r e o v e r t *and patent . One o f t h e e a r l i e s t i s

exemplary. A f t e r a ca ta logue o f l o c a l aqua t i c c rea tu res , t h e n a r r a t i v e takes

a d e c i s i v e t u r n , momentar i ly abandoning t h e advance o f t h e voyagers t o pursue

t h e t o p i c i n waters i n a c c e s s i b l e t o t h e ac tua l r o u t e : " I f we had bu t l e i s u r e

t h i s af te rnoon, we might t u r n ou r prow up t h e brooks i n quest o f t h e

c l a s s i c a l t r o u t and t h e minnows" (p. 31) . The c o n d i t i o n i s f u l f i l l e d h f o r

t h i s i s , a f t e r a l l , a " t r u e work of f i c t i o n " composed i n l e i s u r e an a' w i t h

l i b e r t y , and t h e d iscourse fo l l ows t h e gu ide o f t h g argument and heads up t h e J

brooks and back i n t o the h i s t o r y o f t h i s l o c a t i o n . M a t e r i a l t h a t t h e j o u r n a l

cannot i n c o r p o r a t e i s thus drawn i n t o t h e t e x t -- quo ta t i ons from a t

"Fisherman's Account Current@' from 1805, r e f l e c t i o n s on t h e encounter o f t h e g. 4

shad w i t h human i n d u s t r y , and i n f o r m a t i o n on t h e consequence o f dams on t h e

r i v e r . Having accomplished t h i s f o r a y i n t o sub jec ts d j a c e n t t o t h e voyagers' .$ A course, Thoreau r e t u r n s a b r u p t l y t o Saturday: "That was a l o n g p u l l f rom .

B a l l I s H i l l t o C a r l V i s l e Br idge, s i t t i n g w i t h o u r ;faces t o t h e south, a

s l i g h t breeze r i s i n g from t h e nor th; . ..now, having passed t h e b r i d g e

between Carl i s 1 e and Bedford, we see men haying f a r o f f i n t h e meadow, t h e i r

heads waving l i k e t h e grass which they c u t " (p. 37) . The " l o n g p u l l " was 1

bo th t h e unspoken i n t e r v a l o f t h e b o a t ' s passage, six-page excurs ion '

i n t o t r i b u t a r y mat te rs . The p r & e n t tense here, o t h e r s t r u c t u r a l l y

comparable s i t u a t i o n s i n A Week, s i g n a l s t h e r e t u r n t o j o u 1 m a t e r i a l . The \.,RP next sentence occurs i n t h e pas t tense: " I n t h e d i s t a n c e he wind seemed

d 4 t o bend a1 1 a1 i ken (p. 37) . But t h e sense o f immediacy i s cont inuous,

\

main ta ined by d e t a i l and place-names.

The i is her man's Account Current" i s o n l y one o f t h e documents which

support Thoreauts n a r r a t i v e . A " H i s t o r y o f Dunstable" supp l i es records o f

t h e l i v e s of e a r l y s e t t l e r s i n t h e r e g i o n , and t h e Gazet teer i s a s t u r d y

t r a v e l l e r ,and n a r r a t o r c o n s t a n t l y r e f e r : "As we thus

o r rowed l e i s u r e l y along, we had recourse, from t ime P

to t ime, t o t h e Gazetteer, wh ich was our Navigator , and f r ~ m i t s b a l d n a t u r a l *

f a c t s e x t r a c t e d t h e pleasure o f poetry" ( p . 92). It i s n o t o n l y t h e u t i l i t y - - -

o f t h e ~ a z e t t e e r as '%avigatorli t h a t makes i t p o e t i c and b e a u t i f u l , b u t a l s o P

i t s emp i r i ca l countenance. Thoreau' s p1 easure i n t h i s o f f i c i a l , vernacu lar

t ype of documentat ion goes f a r t h e r t h i n h i s lea sure i n i n f o r m a t i o o , f o r he

love< the very t e x t u r e of such forms. I n reconst.ruct ing t h e h i s t o r i c a l . . . ,

essence of a v i l lage a t the shore, he turns irimediat /

ely t o the idea of -

documentation: "In t h i s Bi l le r ica sol id men must have l ived , s e l ec t from

year to year; a ser ies . of town cl erks , a t 1 east; and there a r e old records

you may search" ( p . 51). A vivid part of the calculation of the scene's

his tor ical features 1 ies w i t h the t ranscr ipt ion of the past , and w i t h the - feel and appearance of these antique notations: " t o w recards, old, t a t t e r e d ,

f- time-worn, weather-stained chronicles" ( p . 53). He can reproduce some of

t h i s venerable texture in his own narrat ive through quotations and excerpts;

some of i t he can r ep l i ca t e w i t h his own catalogues of f i s h e s , miles t raversed, 1

meals prepared, shore-business observed. In t h i s we cay see the substance of * /

Thoreau's long preoccupation with travel writ ing, f d i n tha t l i t e r a t u r e '

there i s always opportunity fo r regular , original observation of humah and

natural a f f a i r s . 4

The fundamental problem which the tex t addresses i s the d ispar i ty between' .

the 1 i t t l e extent of the brothdrs' t r i p and the grandeur of the eminent

t rad i t ion within which the narrator travel s . Disarming t h e di'sparity i s -

Thoreau's 1 i terar)' puyw;e. His discourse must- argue how f a r he t rave ls i n ," small space. He myst exert every facul ty t o perceive -i n the range of t h i s

- , b r i e f joprney the typical d is t inc t ions and simili tudes discern,& by t r ave l l e r s . s B

7 % . . ' .i the globe for no mere week but f o r years. In his introductory

- / I

chaptet "Concord River," he considers the potential adventure in l i t t l e

- - - A -

You sh& perhaps run aground on cranberry Island, only sorne.spires of l a s t yea r ' s pipe-grass abdve water t o show where the danger i s , and get as good a freezing there as anywhere on the Northwest Coast. I never voyagd so far i n a71 my I i f e . You sha l l see men you never heard of before, whose names you don't know.. . . ( p . 6). -

' I

The appearance o f fore ignness -- t h e remarkable c o l d , t h e unheard-of men -- -- -

i s a s u b t l e q u a n t i t y i n a voyage o f s h o r t tenure; on l y t h e most p r e c i s e

observa t ions can i s o l a t e these smal l t r a n s i t i o n s . And o n l y t h e most d e l i c a t e

man ipu la t ions o f language can convey t h e e x o t i c drama o f an apparen t l y f i m i t e d

t r a n s p o r t a t i o n . When t h e boatmen pass o u t o f s i g h t o f Concord, t hey t u r n -- - - . ,"

\

t h e i r backs on t h e ' known landscape and face t h e i r outward course: "Naught

was f a m i l i a r bu t t h e heavens, from under whose r o o f t h e voyageur never passes;

b u t w i t h t h e i r countenance, and t h e acquaintance we had w i t h r i v e r and wood,

we t r u s t e d t o f a r e w 1 1 under any circumstances" (p. 20). Looking t o t h e

heaaens f o r a gu ide , and t r u s t i n g t o t h e i r t r a v e l l i n g s k i l l s , t h e voyagers

w i t h t h i s sentence a r e as nav iga to rs c h a r t i n g a j ou rney towards l a r g e L '

d i scove r ies , c o n s u l t i n g s t e l l a r pa t te rns t o f i x t h e i r course.

I m i t a t i o n o f t h e d i c t i o n o f voyage n a r r a t i v e i s one dev i ce by which

Thoreau es tab l i shes t h e correspondence between h i s own b r i e f t r i p and

g rea te r nav iga t i ons . Both t h e paragraph w i t h which t h e j ou rney begins and t h a t

w i t h which i t concludes wear t h a t a i r o f decorous so lemn i t y w i t h which

t r a v e l l e r s tend t o frame t h e i r voyage n a r r a t i v e s . On Saturday, 'w i th a

v igorous shove we launched our boat from t h e bank, w h i l e t h e f l a g s and

bul rushes c o u r t e s i e d a God-speed, and dropped s i l e n t l y down t h e stream"

( P . 12 ) . I n p lace o f t i d e s and land-breezes, p i l o t s and s a i l - s e t t i n g "a

v igorous shove" comences t h e b r o t h e r s ' voyage, and i n p l a c e o f wharfside

crowds and o t h e r pomp, " f l a g s and bul rushes" w i tness t h e depar tu re . To

mimic thus th'e convent ions t h e t r a v e l genre draws t h e s imp le embarkat ion

. tnto t h e t t - a b f t i m of more momentous departures. And i t i s n o t o n l y t h e

d i c t i o n of t h e descr ibed embarkati.on and r e t u r n which invokes t h e c l a s s i c % authority o f the genre b u t a l s o t h e s t r u c t u r e c rea ted by them: depar tu re

and d isembarkat ion -- Saturday and F r iday -- frame t h composit ion, What went A e on i n t h e t r a v e l l e r ' s 1 i f e b e f o r e t h e voyage and what comes a f t e r cannot

be d i r e c t l y i n t roduced i n t o t h e t r a v e l n a r r a t i v e . A1 though Thoreau' s . 4

antecedent. and subsequent experiences crowd t h e margins o f t h e l i n e a r

n a r r a t i o n t h e y a r e admiss ib le t o t h e t e x t o n l y when they a r e abs t rac ted i n t o . t h e l ong , genera l i zed d ig ress ions . The seven days -- however enlarged o r

- expanded - - d i c t a t e s t r u c t u r e : what can be s a i d must be adapted t o t h e i r

sequence. The compl icat?ons o f t h e adap ta t i on and t h e l e n g t h and number

% f t h e d ig ress ions suggest t h a t T h r e a u , a t t h i s p o i n t , d i d n o t f u l l y accept

t h e convent iona l a u s t e r i t i e s o f t h e genre he had chosen.

For Thoreau, t o revea l t h e whol e shade o f t h i s t r a v e l i n t e r v a l was t o

o rgan ize a1 1 t h e m a t e r i a l s t h a t cou ld be d iscovered t o p e r t a i n a s s o c i a t i v e l y

t o a week on t h e Concord and Nerr imack. Th is meant resea rch ing t h e h i ~ t o ? ~

o f t h e reg ion , rev iew tng h i s own e a r l i e r personal r e c o l l e c t i o n s , developing

t h e e x p o s i t o r y i n v e s t i g a t i o n s o f t h e geography o f t h e rou te , i n s e r t i n g t h e

1 engthy d i s q u i s i t i o n s on f r i e n d s h i p , 1 i t e r a t u r e and sc ience, e s t a b l i s h i n g t h e

comparat ive connect ion between t h i s r i v e r l i f e and a l l r i v e r 1 i f e -- i n

a1 1 , an i n f i n i t e l y compl i c a t e d p r o j e c t i n v o l v i h g t h e whol e f a b r i c o f h i s

thought and knowledge. When A Week was pub l ished i n 1849, t h e p r o j e c t was

concluded i f n o t completed, f o r i t s s t ruc tuFa1 premise

and i n t e l l e c t o f t h e w r i t e r h imse l f . Where t h e l i n e a r

d e f i n i t i v e l y 1 i m i t e d as i t i s i n t r a v e l n a r r a t i v e , and

d i g r e s s i v e m a t e r i a l i s v i r t u a l ty u n l i m i t e d as i t i s i n

exe r ted on n a r r a t i v e s t r u c t u r e a r e enormous. The work

i s coeval w i t h t h e l i f e

prospect i s so

where t h e amount o f

A Week, t h e s t resses -C

-- t h e l i t e r a r y journey

I -- ends o n l y when t h e w r i t e r pub l ishes . This i s n o t t r u e o f the Maine Woods

essays, wtiere event checks commentary.

epistemological model. I t i s a paradigm of learning, and the travel narrat ive t

- -- /

i s a model of the kind of t ruthful , 1 i teral and, above a1 1 , natural qtterance

that Thoreau pursues in h i s a r t . Nhen, in A Week, he genera1 izes about I'

travel as an experience, his r e f l e t i o n s beg t o be read for t h e i r metaphorical

properties. Describing the mode of travel adopted by the brothers, he makes

ideological statements not jus t about e f fec t ive tourism b u t about cognition

i t s e l f . He writes:

We thus worked our way u p t h i s r i v e r , gradually adjusting our thoughts to novel i t i e s , beholding from i t s placid bosom a new nature and new works of men, and, as i t were w i t h increasing confidence, finding nature s t i l l habitable, genial , and propitious t o us; not following any beaten path, b u t the windings of the r i v e r , as ever the nearest way for us. Fortunately we had no business in t h i s country ( p p . 112-13).

This i s the k i n d of learning effected by the voyage. F i r s t , the sense of +

proper advances connects the two men with a natural d i rec t ion , t h a t of the

waterway i t s e l f . The boatmen a r e not passively a d r i f t , b u t they "work" t h e i r

way, industriously in accord with the r ive r . Then, with the advance, comes

t h e introduction of cognitive material and i t s orderly absorption by the . x

travel1 e r ' s - i n t e l l e c t : "gradually adjusting our thoughts to novel t i e s . "

Novelty i s inevitably an .aspect of t r a v e l , and in Thoreau's journey the t rans-

actions between newness and i n t e l l e c t occur regularly. Of course, the

voyagers follow no "beaten path," for then the o r ig ina l i ty and newness would

be gone from the t r i p , and the journey would be no voyage of discovery a t a l l .

And most important to the condi t ims of t h e i r pure travel i s t h a t they have

"no business in t h i s countFy." They proceed impart ia l ly , fo r t h e love o f

travel 1 i n g i t s e l f . The voyage i s unimpeded by prosaic purposes and the point

of view of th-e dis interested voyagers i s unprejudiced by expectations. Their

285

detachment a1 lows t h m t h e objec t iv i ty t h a t captures the who1 e journey.

All t h i s , ce r t a in ly , i s as descr ipt ive of intel lectual habits as i t i s of

en1 ightened tourism.

'Travel l e r s so divorced from ordinary, material objectives a re 1 ess

l i k e l y to be distressed by obstacles or delays, fo r t h e i r destination

cannot be predetermined, b u t can be only what the journey reveals. "So f a r

as my experience goes ," says Thoreau, " t ravelers generally exaggerate the

d i f f i c u l t i e s of the way. Like most e v i l , the d i f f i c u l t y i s imaginary; for

what's the hurry?': ( p . 193) Nothing the route throws u p in the shape of

obstacles i s a t rue impediment. Rather, i t i s &rely an extrapolation on the

i t i ne ra ry , an elaboration or digression. Re1 ieved of a l l material urgency,

the narratpr can even we1 come adverse conditions as propitious . When ra in

drenches the t r ave l l e r s on Thursday, Thoreau exclaims over such good luck:

"Cold and damp, -- a r e they not as rich experience as warmth and dryness?"

( p . 320) With t 6 i s , he departs from typical charac ter i s t ics of the travel

genre, where obstructions a r e t r i a l s , where cold i s mortal, and where wet

clothes a r e not so " r ich" an experience. There, i n conventional travel

nar ra t ive , such vexations and disappointments provide some heady material -- ordeals , despondkncy, great t e s t s , suspense and success. B u t in A Week, as

the dest inat ion bec8mes 1 i t e ra ry and immaterial, so, too, i s tKe t r ave l l e r

somewhat d i smbodied and abstracted. Corporeal nuisances a r e disr%egarded, or

conceptualized in the journey's f inal tex t .

Final ly , the meaning of the Concord and Merrimack voyage hovers between

two planes: a t one level i s the emblematic significance of the journey as a

token of a l l human journeys, of the r iver as epitome of a l l waterways, and of

the voyagers as representative of a l l t rave l le rs . From the conventions of the

travel genre -- dai ly record-making, re la t ion of the his tor ical associat ions,

$ P

r e g u l a r measurement o f t h e t r a v e l

consequences o f the t r i p . Bu t on

-- emerge t h e metaphor ica l

1 i e s t h e 1 i t e r a l meaning

o f t he journey as a t r u e , independent and d i s c r e e t event, impor tan t and

consequent ia l i n i t s e l f . Kuch o f t h e 1 i t e r a l meaning o f t h e journey de r i ves

from t h e n a r r a t o r ' s n o t a t i o n o f n a t u r a l o b j e c t s -- f i s h e s , p lants, t h e a i r

and r i v e r themselves. , I n e x p l a i n i n g t h e substance and s e c u r i t y drawn from

o b s e r v a t i o n ("What I see i s mine. I am a l a r g e owner i n t h e Herr imack

i n t e r v a l s " ) , Thoreau w r i t e s :

The landscape i s indeed something r e a l , and s o l i d , and s ince re , and I have n o t p u t my f o o t th rough i t y e t . There i s a p leasant t r a c t on t h e bank o f t h e Concord, c a l l e d Conantum, whfch I have i n my mind, -- t h e o l d deser ted farmhouse, t h e deso la te pas tu re w i t h i t s b leak c l i f f , t h e open wood, t h e r i v e r - r e a c h , t h e green meadow i n t h e m ids t , and t h e moss-grown wi ld -app l e orchard, -- places where one may have many thoughts and n o t dec ide any th ing . It i s a scene which I can no t o n l y remember, as I migh t a v i s i o n , b u t when I w i l l can b o d i l y r e v i s i t , and f i n d i t even so, unaccountable, y e t unpretending i n i t s p leasant d rea r iness (p. 374).

The landscape's s o l i d i t y and permanence i s t h e immutable n a t u r a l f a c t . It. i s , e

says Thoreau, v i s i o n a r y i n i t s memory value, b u t more than v i s i o n a r y i n t h a t

i t e x i s t s l i t e r a l l y , too , and t h e t h i n k e r can know t h a t he w i l l " b o d i l y 4

r e v i s i t " it, i f he c h ~ o s ~ e s . So t h e r i v e r which he t r a v e l s has i t s v i s i o n a r y

dimension, bu t i s a l s o v i s i t e d " b o d i l y " and m a t e r i a l l y . The journey i s a

veracious s e t t i n g l i k e Conantum, where "one may have many thoughts and n o t *

dec ide anything," and where t h e f a c t u a l m a t r i x o f these i n d e c i s i v e thoughts

i s what i s abso lu te and conc lus ive .

H i t h t h e f i n a l , o n e s e n t e n c e paragraph o f A Week on t h e Concord and

Merri-mack R ivers , Thoreau exe rc i ses the p o t e n t i a l eloquence o f 1 i t e r a l . r e p o r t :

We made about f i f t y m i l e s t h i s day w i t h s a i l and oar , and now, f a r i n the evening, OUP b o a t was g r a t i n g a g a i n s t the bu l rushes o f i t s n a t i v e p o r t , and f t s keel recognized t h e Concord mud, where some semblance- o f i t s o u t l i n e was s t i l l preserved i n t h e f l a t t e n e d f l a g s which had scarce y e t e rec ted themselves s ince ou r departure; and we leaped g l a d l y on shore, drawing i t up and fas ten ing i t t o t h e w i l d app le t r e e , whose stem s t i l l bore t h e mark which i t s cha in had worn i n t h e c h a f i n g o f t h e sp r ing f r e s h e t s (p. 420).

The m i l e s accomplished, t h e evening hour, t h e anchorage, t h e g lad d i s -

embarkat ion, a r e a l l proper f a c t s f o r a voyager t o t e l l , t h a t h i s reader

may recogn ize t h e s igns of a journey concluded. They a r e t o l d w i t h t h e same z?

una f fec ted c l a r i t y w i t h which t h e c i rcumnav iga tor composes the complet ing

e n t r y i n h i s l o g . Here they a r e pe r fec ted by the n a r r a t i v e focus on t h e

p a r t i c u l a r s o f t h i s journey - - t h e bulrushes and mud and app le t r e e and,

e s p e c i a l l y , t he smal l r e s i d u a l s igns o f t h e j ou rney ' s beg inn ing i n t h e

impressed rushes and scar red t r u n k . This resonant p a r t i c u l a r i t y i s what

d i s t i n g u i s h e s Thoreau's l a t e r t r a v e l w r i t i n g , i n Cape Cod and' The Maine Woods,

where l i t e r a l and f i g u r a t i v e l e v e l s o f meaning merge and where t h e i n t e r -

p o l a t i o n s and d i vaga t i ons o f A Week a r e gone. I n t h e heightened r e a l i s m o f

these l a t e r ~compos i t ions , da ta loom as por tentous images; and s t r i c t

documentation o f o n l y t h e everits o f " t h e journey accornpl i shes who1 e meaning.

I n A !leek, t h e i n t e r v a l sepa ra t i ng journey from p u b l i c a t i o n (which i s a l s o

t h e d i s p a r i t y between t h e l o g and the , t e x t ) n e a r l y o b l i t e r a t e s 1 i n e a r

n a r r a t i v e w i t h t h e " l e i s u r e " and " l i b e r t y " o f e x p a t i a t i o n . I n The Naine

Woods t h a t i n t e r v a l r e c u l t e d i n t h e m a g n i f i c a t i o n o f l i n . e a r sequence t o t h e

p o i n t where i t cou ld stand f o r a l l t h a t had happened.

Between 1846 and 1857 Thoreau made a se r ies o f excurs ions which he

e v e n t u a l l y descr ibed ' i n extended composit ions. He made t h r e e t r i p s t o Maine,

t h r e e t o Cape Cod, and one t o Canada. The Canadian journey, undertaken i n

1850, i s recorded i n A Yankee i n Canada, which was f i r s t publ isKed i n

The A t l a n t i c i n 1855. Strt tcturally,A Yankee i n Cam& i s t r a n s i t i o n a l ,

s tand ing between A Week and the l a t e r t e x t s , Cape Cod and The Maine Woods.

I n A Yankee i n Canada, Thoreau says h i s purpose i s " t a k i n g i t a l l in," and

t h e tone which he adopts t o do t h i s t a k i n g - i n i s i r o n i c a l and r a t h e r a rch , 'as

i f the convent ional r o u t e he fo l l owed t o Montreal a n d - ~ u k b e c was too much

o f a "beaten path" t o a1 low him t h e se r ious 1 e i s u r e and p r i v a c y o f t h e Concord

and: Merrimack voyage, H i s f i r s t paragraph, i n A Yankee ia 'canada, s imu l taneous ly -++

i

invokes t h e convent ions o f t r a v e l w r i t j n g and undercuts them w i t h a h a l f - /

I embarrassed amusement* a t having p u r s u ~ d so w e l l - t r a v e l l e d a course:

I f e a r t h a t I have n o t go t much t o say about Canada, n o t having seen much; what I got by going t o Canada was a co ld . I l e f t Concord, Fassachusetts , Wednesday morning , September 25th, 1850, f o r Quebec. Fare, seven do1 1 a rs t h e r e and back; d i s t a n c e from Boston, f i v e hundred and t e n m i l e s ; being o b l i g e d t o l e a v e t tbntreal on t h e r e t u r n as soon as Fr iday, October 4th, o r w i t h i n t e n days. I w i l l no t s top t o t e l l t h e reader t h e names o f my f e l l o w - t r a v e l l e r s ; t h e r e were s a i d t o be f i f t e e n hundred o f them. I wished o n l y t o 6e s e t down i n Canada, and take one honest walk t h e r e as I migh t i n Concord woods o f an a f t e r n ~ o n . ~

As i n A Week, t h e b r e v i t y o f t he journey requ i res some n o t i c e : n o t having much

t o say coex i s t s w i t h more than a hundred pages o f t e l l i n g about t h e t r i p .

We soon f i n d t h a t t h e t r a ~ e l l ~ r - n a r r a t o r considers t h e cu rso ry view supp l i ed

by so r a p i d a ' t o u r n o t i n i t s e l f a de t r iment , b u t merely one o f t he i n t e r e s t i n g

c o n d i t i o n s o f t h i s p a r t i c u l a r experience, The w ish t o " t a k e one honest walk"

i n Canada as he m igh t i n Concord " o f an af ternoon" acknowledges both t h e

l i m i t a t i o n s o f t h e e n t e r p r i s e and i t s l i m i t l e s s p o s s i b i l i t i e ~ . I t i s n o t t h e

i t i n e r a r y i t s e l f t h a t w i l l d i s t i n g u i s h t h i s adventure ( f o r i t i s an o r d i n a r y '

and p u b l i c r o u t e ) b u t t h e "honest" c o g n i t i v e i n t e n t i o n s w i t h which i t i s

under t i ken.

289 - -

In c o r n i d w i n g h i s f i f teen kwtdred fellow-travellers, Tbreau begins

the process of social detachment which inspires much of his commentary on

Canadian manners and ins t i tu t ions . The t i t l e of the account i t s e l f suggests

his pleasure in the central f ac t of t h i s experience, namely, t h a t of seeing

himself in a foreign environment. B u t t h i s pleasure begins before he crosses 0

the national f ron t i e r , On the t r a i n he i s a Yankee amidst Yankees b u t

separate even frum these f i f teen hundred compatriots:

One man in the cars has a bot t le fu l l of some 1 iquor. The whole company smile whenever i t i s exhibited. , I f ind no d i f f i c u l t y in containing myself ( p p . 15-16).

. Once he ar r ives in Canada, conspicuous foreignness completely authorizes

his posit ion of c r i t i c a l a1 ienation. Roman ~ a t h o l i c edif ices and adherents

inv i t e both appreciative and negative observations, b u t i t i s the mil i tary

atmosphere of ~ugbec which c rys t a l l i zes Thoreau's ro le . He adopts a pose

of profound naivety i n order to convey his sense of the absurdity of

mi 1 i t a r i s t i c procedures , pretending a complete ignorance of the assumptions

behind so ld ier ly ceremonies. Entering the c i t ade l , "We did not heed the

sent r ies a t the gate, nor did they us, and what under the s u n they were

placed there for , unless to hinder a f r e e circulat ion of the a i r , was not

apparent" ( p . 37). All imperial is t formalit ies a r e represented as a l ien and

uni ntel l igibl e , b u t a1 1 a r e recorded in ironical d e t a i l . Members of the

Highland regiment, . w i t h t h e i r odd hats and bare knees, par t icu lar ly exci te

Thoreau's w i t and a t ten t ion , and he s ta res with a t o u r i s t ' s shameless

cur ios i ty a t the exposed 1 imbs of one specimen he meets: "We stood close by

without fear and Ijooked a t h i m . His legs were somewhat tanned, and the hair

had begun t o grow on t h e m , as'some of our wise men predict t ha t i t 4 1 1 i n

such cases, b u t I do not think the9 were remarkable i n any respect" (p. 38) . i

\ r

So consistent i s he in t h i s scept ica l , s a t i r i c spectatorship tha t when

he returns t o ~ u ~ b e ' c a f t e r an excursion i n t o the countryside and sees a man

stricken and dying, a t the dock, he records the s c q e with the same dispassio-

nate in t e res t i n off-centre de ta i l s which directed his gaze t o the Highlandqr's I\ /' i'

knees :

When we landed a t Quebec the next morning, a man lay on his back on the wharf, apparently dying, in the midst of a crowd and d i rec t ly i n the path of the horses, groaning, " 0 ma conscience!" I thought t h a t he Oronounced his French more d i s t inc t ly than any I heard, as i f the dying had a1 ready the accents of a universal language

; ( P . 9 3 ) .

Sentiment i s f lagrant ly-absent from the report , par t icu lar ly as the

subsequent sentence describes the t o u r i s t s ' plans for t h e i r l a s t day of s ight-

seeing a t ~u6bec . Had Washington Irving or Susanna Moodie witnessed so af fec t -

ing a s ight they would have act ively or imaginatively inquired into the

history of the man's a f f l i c t i o n , and stayed t o commiserate with the bereaved.

Thoreau cannot simply and decently disregard the incident -- the man i s , a f t e r

a l l , d i rec t ly i n the path of the horses -- b u t , ins tead, records i t w i t h

consummate depchment and only i ntel l ectual i n t e r e s t , eccentric a t tha t .

So f a r i t would seem tha t negative sa t i s fac t ions dominate ~ h o r e a u ' s

Canadian excursion. B u t t h i s i s not the case fo r , as i n A Week on the Concord

and Merrimack, an imaginative and in te l lec tua l journey runs concurrently

with the actual journey. In A Yankee i n Canada, t h i s mental journey i s

conducted primari i t e ra tu re of travel -- t he - Je su i t Relations,

Champlain's journ h is tor ies -- which impinges on the route.

Thoreau did exten ry reading before he s e t out, and continued

pertinent study a f t e r e: the ten days in the autumn of 1850 a r e

l i k e a f i e l d - t r i p ntinuum of study and imaginative

contmplatPon of the l i t e r a r y journey. A Yankee i s fu l l of intermit tent

%

quotation from the writings o f explorers and e a r l i e r i"ravellerr, and from 4

histor ians of Lower Canada, a1 1 brusque1 y inter jected into the midst of

sightseeing, without much regard fo r nice narrative assimilations. Towards

t h e end of the narrat ive these c i t a t ions predominate, v i r tua l ly silencing

the voice uf Thoreau's own journey, and lengthening the 1 i t e r a ry journey

unt i l i t i s commensurate w i t h the extent of the w r i t e r ' s studious in t e res t

i n t he area. For Thoreau, a t t h i s point, l i t e r a r y preparation was s t i l l d

, essential t o h i s venturing.

In A Yanltee i n Canada, c i t i ng and summarizing~ secondhand material from

. the writings of other t r ave l l e r s keeps Thoreau in touch w i t h thb 1 i t e r a ry

form which i s his inspirat ion. In Cape Cod, t h i s formal presence i s a r t f u l l y

introduced into the s t ruc ture of the l inea r narr"8tive:as a motif: i.n - The

Haine Woods, i t i s en t i r e ly represented by the d i r e c t rhythms of firsthand

experi ence.

A twenty-eight mile walk taken along the Atlantic s ide of the Cape

i n October 1849 provides the narrat ive basis of Cape Cod. The walk, w i t h

at tendant transportation a t each terminus (Eastham and Provincetown),

organizes Thoreau's exposition of the Cape, j u s t as the voyagers' week

organizes his description of the Concord and Merrimack. Cape Cod, however,

d i f f e r s from A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers and from A Yankee in

Canada in tha t two subsequent journeys to the Cape, i n June 1850 and July 1855,

a re absorbed into the narrat ive to heighten the experience of the f i r s t t r i p . 8

With his f i r s t sentence Thoreau reveals t h i s background chronology b u t f ixes

decisively -- a f t e r two o r three introductory paragraphs -- on the'october

journey as the focus of t h i s t e x t : "We l e f t Concord, Massachusetts, on

Tuesday, October 9, 1 8 4 9 . " ~ The two summer journeys drop abruptly into a

subord ina te p o s i t i o n , access ib le resources t o be c a l l e d up p e r i o d ~ c a l l y t o

expand and dramat ize t h e n a r r a t i v e o f 1849.'

The days f o l l o w i n g the October 9 embarkation, accommodate no t o n l y

r e c o l l e c t i o n s o f the 'two subsequent v i s i t s b u t as w e l l a l l t h e assoc ia ted

h i s t o r i c a l and e x p o s i t o r y m a t e r i a l t h a t i s thus f a r t y p i c a l o f Thoreau's f u l l

account ing of any journey . Except f o r t he l eng thy rev iew o f t h e T i t q r a t u r e

of d i scove ry r e l a t i n g t o the Cape, which stands v e r y near t h e -end o f t h e

t e x t , Thoreau's i n t e r p o l a t i o n s i n Cape Cod a r e g e n e r a l l y l e s s excu rs i ve and

d i g r e s s i v e t h a n they a r e i n A Week and more s u c d i n c t l y t i e d t o t h e t r a v e l l e r ' s

progress across t h e sands o f t h e Cape. The " l e i s u r e and l i b e r t y " o f t he

t r u t h f u l f i c t i o " o f A Week au tho r i zed a l l manner o f d i g r e s s i v e i n t r i c a c f e s

and, exuberant branchings : t h e ve ry compl e x i t y and i n v o l vement o f t h e

c i r cumlocu t i ous s t r u c t u r e were i n d i c a t i o n s o f t he importance o f t h e journey,.

Now, i n Cape Cod, Thoreau prunes some o f t h e excrescences i n r e f i n i n g h i s 5@

method, and advances towards the spare d i rec tness o f The F?aine Woods.

Even w i t h t h i s pruning, s t r u c t u r e i s n o t y e t w h o l l y a s s i m i l a t e d by t h e

immediate journey. I t s t i l l stands o u t as a design d e l i b e r a t e l y executed

.2 on a s imp le form, and as something s t y l i s h and compounded. I n t h e f i r s t h a l f

o f t h e book, a t 1 east, coherence i s assured by a r a t h e r engaging e f f o r t a t

v e r i s i m i l i t u d e i n p resen t i ng t h e manoeuvres o f t h e n a r r a t i v e . For ins tance,

a f t e r some d i s c u r s i v e r e f l e c t i o n s on t h e ocean as t h e " ' p r i n c i p a l sea t o f l i f e " ' -

and some c i t a t i o n s f rom a u t h o r i t y on t h e e v o l u t i o n a r y emergence o f aqua t i c

forms, Thoreau concf udes h i s Chapter Y I by r e t r i e v i n g t h e immediacy o f t h i s

day ' s w a f k :

Though we have inh?gqd i n some p l e c i d r e f l e c t i o n s o f l a t e , t h e reader must n o t f o r g e t t h a t t h e dash and r o a r o f t h e waves were Tncessant. Indeed, i t would be w e l l i f he were t o read w i t h a l a r g e conch-shel l a t h i s ear (p. 128).

,'

Nriting -- and reading -- must knit these Several strands! the "plzcid - reflections" which conterpl'ate the ii-therent eprinci pies o f the scene, the

45 a ' J * uninterrupted noise of the sea, and tk constliousness of the narrat ive 's

turns a n d junctions. tf W i t h this direct address to the r'eader, which draws -

attention ti i t r t c t u r e , moreau fuses the chfemplative with the des3criptive,

pointing to the transitional signals i n his p ros i with a candaur that disarms %

incoherence. He i s only haTf- joking i n .recornrending the?6n&-shell*; -for

P , he i s , in Cape Cod, intent on tw7sting the narraaive strands i n t o one strong

yarn. @

Chapter 111, "The Plains o f Nauset," concludes in a similar fashion, 9 neatly returning the reader t o the mainstream a f t e r excursions into

neighbouring channels where Thoreau discovered long pertinent pgssages to -C

quote from historical sources: "There was no better way to make the reader

real i ze how wide and peculiar that plain was, and how long i t took to - traverse i t , than by inserting these extracts in the midst of my narrative"

( p . 5 6 ) . The "extracts" are chiefly t o do with the ecc? s i a s t i c a l history o f

--'--. Eastham, and the clergymen who administered to the comuni ty ' s needs for

oracular descriptions of hell and eternal punishment. B u t , in spite of the

length of th is cited information, the reader has not been s e t ad r i f t in i t s

copiousness, for Thoreau introduces a motif a t the outset to maintain the

context and "integrity of the t ravel ler ' s route. Fi rs t , th is device i s

plainly announced in the idea of the reading-out o f extracts and the crossing :

o f - t h e plain being simultaneous: "As i t will takes us an hour to get

over this plain, and there i s no variety in the prospect, peculiar as i t i s ,

I will read a l i t t l e in the history 6f Eastham the while" ( p . 43). Then, in &

the middle of the excekpts, the device i s recalled, t h a t the reader may

> .

294

L

bette.r f i x his course, and t h i s time i t i s elaborated in to a charming

oicture of the studious t r ave l l e r abroad: "The reader will imagine us, a l l

the while, s t ead i ly ' t r ave r s ino tha t e x t e n ~ i v e ~ i a ' i n in a direct ion a l i t t l e

north of e a s t towardbNauset beach, and reading under our umbrellas a s we

sai-led, while i t blowed hard with mingled mi'st and r a in . . . . " (p . 52 )

The a r t fu l assumption here i s t ha t w h a t the author quo-ks and s u m r i z e s i s .- ,

what the t r ave l l e r reads, and t h a t the disparate narrat ive uni ts re la t ing &

- scene a n d s'tudy can be thoroughly intertwined through the s t ruc tura l motif

- o f the t rave l le rs "readll'ng under our umbrellas as we sailed. ' : , +

The image of the studious ~ e d e s t r i a n i s a device which i s abandoned a s - .

the narrat ive progresses, b u t i t f i r s t accompl ishes i t s s t ruc tura l purpose 1 e

in explaining the presence of secondhand m t e r i a l i n a f i rs thand narrat ive.

3y the end of Cape Cod, Thoreau frankly c i t e s , without apology, his researches

into the ear1,iest his tory of the Cape, having already establ ished ' their

adn i s s ib i l i t y . This seem t o return him t o the s t ruc tura l premises o f

A Neek and A Yankee, b u t two circumstances suggest devef opment: f i r s t ,

secondhand information i s , on the who1 e , more organically assimi'lated i n t o

the l inear narrat ive, and, even without overt t ~ a n s i t i o n a l s ignals , i t causes

mch less s t ruc tura l s t r e s s than do the ~ r o l i x digressions in A Week.

Second, the essays in The bbi ne -Woods are constructed wi thout trans i t ional

s t r e s s e s , suggesting t h a t a s-eamless narrat ive s t ruc ture could be accomplished

without sac r i f i c ing waning once the narrator and the t r a v e l l e r become one,

3s tihey a r e on the +%use-t; a la in , under the umbrella, book i n hand,. I n

+\ && on the Concord and 3er r imck Rivers writ ing a n d travel were separate

a c t i ~ i t i e s : log-keeping during the journey was simple and l imited, done a t ?i

a tire when " t o write is not what in t e res t s us." The ultimate form of the

document i s ctear ty a t t r ibu tab le t o post- journey work -- large elaborations

wised precariously on the slim e n t ~ i e s of the journal. The development of

Thoreau's travel a r t lay i n gett ing to the point where the l inea r i ty of the

l o g or journal was a su f f i c i en t ly resonant s t ructure to convey a l l necessary

meanings. Cape Cod moves towards th i s point by declaring the simultaneity

s f travel and composition through the motif of the pedestrian whose readings

B u t the pedestrian i s a device, introducing a h is tor ica l mod through

a r t i f i c e . Where Cape Cod achieves a natural his tory, i n accord with l inear

s t t uc tu re , i s in Thoreau ' s comparati ve investigations and speculative

r~bservations on the character of the shore. He takes readi ly to the

3 r x t i c e o f beachcohing, noticing every par t ic le of evidence cas t up by

sea; or sand, and f i l l i n g h i s pockets with portable and t e l l i n g b i t s . He

a n d his companion met occasionally with "wreckers" -- local men who

salvage the fragments and pieces arr iving on the beach -- and soon Thoreau f

i s a w r z k e r himself, seizing these fragmentary properties, discovering

t h e i r type, and putting them to use by making something of them in his

narrat ive. Driftwood, rags, soap, sp l in t e r s of wrecked vessels -- a l l are

entered in his s tory . The sea i s a l imi t less source of information, dropping

i t s i nteminable data before the receptive observer:

The r e s t l e s s ocean may a t any moment c a s t up a whale or a wrecked vessel a t your f ee t . All the reporters in the world, the most rapid stenographers, could n o t report the news i t brings ( p . 184).

'3 zJmoerly ' r e l a t e t h i s perpetual news, the reporter must be both fecept ive

arid acquis i t ive . The 1 i t t o ra l scr ibe must be su f f i c i en t ly a l e r t to the s tory

e i t q i r . the object , and ne must want to grasp the thing, and gather i t up .

3;i day of describing t h e i r imitation of the local wreckers, Thoreau says

/-\

of himself and his companion, "We a h saved, a t the cost of wet feet only,

a valuable cord and buoy, part ~f a seine, with which the sea was playing, for

i t seemed ungracious t o refuse the lea%$ g i f t which so great a personage

offered you" ( p . ,117). The sea, in the way i t suspends newsworthy objects

in i t s watery matrix, also provides the suspense of the narrative, dispensing

with generous drama each informative i tern t h a t contributes to an endless

d6nouemen t . The office of transcribing these disclosures belongs to the travel ler ;

his 1 i terate observation unifies the mu1 t i tudinous fragments. For the most

p a r t , in Cape Cod, the beach's debris, i t s botanical and ornithological

complexion, and i t s scattered habi ta t i ons are described wi t h a thoughtful

empi ricism. Thoreau's habits of observation give coherence to the i.nventory

of wrecker's Beasure, and his empirical techniques make a kind of personal

science. When he comes upon the Highland Light, "one of our 'primary sea-

coast lights , "' he undertakes i ts ~-~asurement in -a truly Johnsonian sp i r i t :

I borrowed.the plane and square level and dividers, of a carpenter who was shingling a barn near 4, and, using one of those shingles made of a mast, contrived a rude sort of quadran t , with pins for sights and pivots, and got the angle of elevation of the Bank opposite the lighthouse, and with a couple of cod-1 ines the length of i t s slope, and so measured i t s height on the shingle. I t rises one hundred and ten feel above i t s imnediate base, or about one hundred and twenty-three feet above mean low water. Graham, who has carefully surveyed the extremity of the Cape, makes i t one hundred and thirty feet ( p . 150).

The discrepancy between the received measurement and the height determined

by Thoreau i s n o t re,solved, nor need i t be, for the real information carried z

by the descirption l ies with the activity of mensuration. Collecting 2

vernacular rnateri a ls , and applying his expertise in surveyinq, Thoreau

takes an original measurement. In reporting the action and i t s result,

he gives the s t a t i s t i c a narrative as well as instructive dimension. Earlier, i

his attention was attracted by the type of kelp deposited on the shore by I?

the news-bearing sea, and he examined i t particularly:

I t cut l ike cheese; for I took the ear l i es t opportunity to s i t down and del i berately whi t t l e u p a fathom or two of i t , that I might become more ,intimately acquainted with i t , see how i t cut , and i f i t were hollow al l the way through. The lade looked l ike a broad belt , whose edges had been quilled, or as i f stretched by hammering, and i t was also twisted spiral ly. The extremi ty was generally worn and ragged from the lashing of the waves. A piece of the stem which I carried home shrunk to one quarter of

-

i t s size a week afterward, and was completely covered with crystals of s a l t l ike frost . The reader will excuse my greenness, -- though i t i s not sea-greenness, 1 ike his perchance, -- for I 1 ive by a river shore, where this weed does not wash u p (pp . 68-69).

In his wide reading Thoreau must have learned a t l eas t how to find a

reliable account of this sea-vegetable, b u t the information would not have

had the import of his practice of personal science,.

Embedded within this same long paragraph, which inquires scientif ical ly

into the nature of kelp, 1 ies an unscientific statement of the insinuating

mystery the sea holds for the traveller from the hinterland. "All ," he says,

"that i s told of the sea has a fabulous sound to an inhabitant of the land,

and a l l i t s products have a certain fabulous quality, as i f they belonged t o -----

another planet, from s,eaweed to a saiqor's yarn, or a fish story" ( p . 68 ) .

Concurrent with the qoncrete evidences that 1 i t t e r the shore i s the fabulous-

ness and . . foreignness .of an incomprejensible medium which both disburses and

withholds the rel ics which demonstrate i-ts meaning. The romance of Thoreau's

s tory arises a t th is junction of the, knowable with the unknown -- a junction 1

graphically - , , represente<by the action of the thoughtful t raveller walking the 1 - -

verge'between land and sea. This romanczhas a great deal t o do with death,

and .Thoreauls awe before the unintell i gi ble, oceanic power t h a t casts up , $ - I / ,'

upon the shore the corpses of drowned travellers , among the rags and bottles

and shells .

Capk Cod's thematic preoccupation w i t h wrecks and sea d isas te rs may-

be what determined Thoreau upon the -1849 journey as the na r ra t i ve base

f o r h i s composition. When he and h i s companion a r r i v e d i n Boston, on t h e i r way

t o the Cape i n 1849, they were met w i t h news o f catastrophe: "as we no t i ced

i n the s t r ee t s a handb i l l headed, 'Death! one hundred and f o r t y - f i v e 1 ives

l o s t a t Cohasset,' we decided t o go by way o f Cohasset" (p. 5 ) . An I r i s h

emigrant sh ip had foundered i n v i o l e n t seas o f f the Cape, w i t h calamitous

loss o f l i f e . Thoreau's f i r s t s i g h t of the sea and shore comprises a mess - ow w r skage, mourner5 and corpses. He shr inks from no d e t a i l o f the d isaster ,

perambulating the ghast ly scene w i t h a1 1 h i s w i t s about him. " His composure

a t f i r s t seems t o compare w i t h the ru th l ess o b j e c t i v i t y w i t h which he viewed

t he dying man a t the QuGbec dock, b u t as t h i s f i r s t day 'out progresses and -"J P 2

as the whole n a r r a t i v e proceeds, i t i s c l e a r t h a t the s i g h t penetrates t o

the very hea r t o f Thoreau's pecu l i a r s e n s i b i l i t y , n o t merely g lancing o f f

h i s detached humour the way the 1 i t t l e tragedy a t Quebec did. Here, on* the

mournful beach, the e f f o r t o f l ook ing i s - intense, and perhaps a l l the 1(

more nerve-racking f o r the witness ' res is tance t o the oppor tun i ty fo r

a consol ing sen t imenta l i t y . Before he and h i s companion continue on t h e i r

way, Thoreau s tares a t enough specimens -of d i sas te r t o ascer ta in i t s r e s u l t :

I saw many marbled f e e t and matted heads as the c l o ths were ra ised, and one 1 i v i d , swollen, and mangled body o f -a drowned g i r l , -- who probably had intended t o go ou t t o se rv ice i n some American fami ly , -- t o which some rags s t i l l adhered, w i t h a s t r i n g , h a l f concealed by the f l esh , about i t s swollen neck; the coi led-up wreck of a human hulk, gashed by the rocks o r fishes, so t h a t the bone and muscle weke exposed, bu t q u i t e bloodless, -- merely red and white, -- w i t h nide-open and s t a r i n g eyes, y e t l us t re less , dead1 i gh t s ; o r 1 i ke the cabin windows of a stranded vessel, f i l l e d w i t h sand (pp. 6-71,

- - .*-

So numerous arb? corpses, says Thoreau, t h a t some o f the p o t e n t i a l e f f e c t \

o f the scene is ' m i t i g ted. Nevertheless, the s i g h t establ ishes a na r ra t i ve 'e r mood o f mingled fasd ina t ion and o b j e c t i v i t y before sea-death -- a mood which

i s o f t e n submerged beneath the business o f ord inary s ightsee ing but which

resurfaces a t i n t e r v a l s t o invoke the mystery o f the sea. I n t r y i n g t o

est imate - the in f luence o f the catastrophe, i n th,e form of washed-up debr is,

on the whole character o f the Cape, Thoreau says, "I saw t h a t the beauty o f

t he shore i t s e l f was wrecked f o r many a 1 onely wal ke r there, u n t i 1 he could

perceive, a t l a s t , how i t s beauty was enhanced by wrecks 1 i ke t h i s , and i t

acquired thus a r a r e r and subl imer beauty s t i l l " ( p . 12). I n pos tu l a t i ng

t h i s disappointed " l one l y walker,'' Thoreau i s working ou t the design o f h i s

own response, which must eschew sen t imenta l i t y o r even compassionate 2

horror , and keep i t s countenance o f i n v e s t i g a t i v e c u r i o s i t y . To betray concern

and sympathy f o r the i n d i v i d u a l ' s f a t e would be t o imp l i ca te the t r a v e l l e r

i n a pa the t i c , comn isera t i ve dest iny, and poss ib ly arouse the k i n d o f mortal

anx ie t ies which would co r rup t the detached, specta t o r i a l t ex tu re o f the

na r ra t i ve . Thoreau ' s journeys are always u taken as ph i l osoph i ca l l y

o p t i m i s t i c enterpr ises, n o t t o be de f lec ted o s t r ugg le o r d iso r ien ta t ion ,

and Cape Cod i s undetained even by t h i s horrendously morbid obs tac le io f a

hundred corpses.

The drowned body has a b i p a r t i t e i d e n t i t y i n Cape Cod: on the one

hand i t i s ne i t he r more nor less than the o ther "news" re layed by the sea

i n the form o f d r i f twood and segments of rope and broken spars. On the

o ther hand, i t has a metaphysical. power t o propose t h i s "subl imer beauty" and

always menaces the witness w i t h a poss ib ly deranging h o r r o r . Thus i t

transcends the mere* ob ject , and chal Tenges the ob jec t i ve t r a v e l l e r . On a

subsequent v i s i t to the Cape, Thoreau l a t e r t e l l s us, i t was his "business

to go in search of the r e l i c s of a human body." He spies them from a

distance, for they have a cer tain s ta te1 iness and are prominent i n the

prospect. As he approaches the remains they begin t h e i r operation on his

Close a t hand they were simply some bones with a 1 i t t l e flesh adhering to them, in f ac t only a s l i g h t inequality in the sweep of the shore. There was nothing a t a l l remarkable about them, and they were singularly inoffensive both to the senses and the imagination. B u t as 1 stood there they grew more and more imposing. They were alone with the beach and the sea, whose hol low roar seemed addressed to them, and I was impressed as i f there was an understanding between them, and the ocean which necessarily l e f t me out, with my snivelling sympathies. That dead body had taken possession of the shore, and reigned over i t as no l iving one could, i n the name of a cer tain majesty which belonged t6 i t (p. 108).

The remains f i r s t are assigned value only as objects. They are "simply some

bones. " They are par t of the natural se t t ing , no more than a topographical

incident ("a s l i g h t inequality in the sweep of the shore"), and without

human or revelatory a t t r ibu te . b u t as Thoreau allows the scene to develop,

s t a r t ing with the bare evidence, a super-humanity begins to emanate.frorn

t h i s residuum of a body. I t i s nearly impossible to imagine Thoreau

entertaining any "snivelling sympathies," b u t the scene's repudiation of

a1 1 sentimental i ty i s necessary to the creation of transcendent knowledge.

The c ~ r p o r e a l wreck, i n i t s mystic a f f i n i t y with the ocean "which necessarily

l e f t me out ," overrides both sentimental sympathies and s c i e n t i f i c objectivity.

In f ac t , i t evades a l l cognition b u t the in tu i t ion of the aloof, deathly

romance of the sea, which Cape Cod's Traveller contemplates from the shore.

Like the mountain sumi t or the extent of wilderness in The Maine woods,

the shore i s a f ron t i e r , f u l l of wildness to the wanderer. The waves

themselves are "too far-traveled and untamable t o be famil iar" (p. 186),

\

and a re thus engrossing i n t h e i r fore ignness.

unqual i f i e d w i 1 dness and st rangeness:

I t i s a w i l d , rank p lace, and the re i s no

30 1

T k seashore shows an

f l a t t e r y i n i t . Strewn w i t h crabs, horseshoes, and r a z o r clams, and whatever t h e sea cas ts up, -- a vas t morgue, where famished dogs may range i n packs, and .crows come d a i l y t o g lean the p i t t a n c e which t h e t i d e leaves them. The carcasses o f men and beasts 1 i e s t a t e l y up upon i t s she1 f, r o t t i n g and b leach ing i n t h e sun and waves, and each t i d e tu rns them i n t h e i r beds, and tucks f r e s h sand under them. There i s naked Nature, -- inhumanly s incere, wast ing no thought on man, n i b b l i n g a t t h e c l i f f y shore where g u l l s wheel amid t h e spray (p. 187).

With t h i s k i n d o f w i ldness the sea r e l i n q u i s h e s i t s p lace as a l i f e - s o u r c e

and f r l i t f u l womb o f nascent forms, and becomes the sea t of death. The

specimens Thoreau examines and i d e n t i f i e s a re i n d i c a t i o n s o f a fabulous

m o r t a l i t y and -decadence. Death, i n Cape Cod, seems t o be the c l i m a c t i c

expression o f the foreignness o f t h i s j ou rney ' s s e t t i n g . It i s t h e spectac le

which t h e t r a v e l 1 e r con f ron ts y e t cannot comnand o r penet ra te and which looms

i n a l l . i t s a l i e n remoteness. Inhuman na tu re -- here as t h e ocean, i n - The

Maine Woods as the perpetua l f o res ts ' - - holds a dea th l y s e c r e t o n l y p a r t i a l l y

i n t e l l i g i b l e t o even the most i n s i g h t f u l o r methodical specta tor . I n

f a m i l i a r i z i n g h imse l f w i t h i t s observable d e t a i l s , Thoreau sometimes appears

t o secure a c lose acquaintance w i t h nature, b u t t h e mystery and fore ignness

p e r s i s t .

A1 though mri bund ves t iges a r e i nev i t a b l e p a r t s of t h e wrecke r - t rave l l e r ' s

i n v e n t o r y o f souvenirs , Thoreau's t r a n s c r i p t i o n o f h i s Cape exper ience i s

f o r the m s t p a r t q e s s awed, and executed w i t h l e s s o f t h a t f e e l i n g o f -3

e x c l u s i o n from t h e gr ievous communion between beached corpse and inhuman

na tu re . S t a t i s t i c s o f shipwreck and mar i t ime losses through t h e Cape's -

c o m e r c i a l h i s t o r y p rov ide an expos i to ry medium through which t o cons ider

the f a t a l i t y o f t h e sea. Also,' Thqreau p e r i o d i c a l l y consu l t s " ' A Desc r ip t i on

of th6 Eastern Coast o f t h e County o f Barnstable, ' p r i n t e d i n 1802," and

references t o t h i s document es tab1 i s h another connect ion between the shore-

t r a v e l l e r and the a l i e n seascape. " I have read t h i s Shipwrecked Seaman's

Manual ," he says, "w i th a melancholy k i n d o f i n t e r e s t , f o r t h e sound o f t h e

sur f , o r , you m igh t say, t h e moaning of t he sea, i s heard a1 1 through it,

as i f i t s au thor were t h e so le s u r v i v o r o f a shipwreck h i m s e l f " (pp. 63-64).

The Manual, w i t h i t s i n s t r u c t i o n s t o d i s t r e s s e d s a i l o r s and i t s d i r e c t i o n s t o

rescue s h e l t e r s , serves as a k i n d o f guide-book for .Thoreau, d e s c r i b i n g

the t e r r a i n he t raverses . Thoreau quotes from i t s u b s t a n t i a l l y , p r e f e r r i n g

i t s documentary, i n d i r e c t a l l u s i o n t o catastrophe t o any imag ina t i ve ..

r e c o n s t r u c t i o n o f shipwreck. I t embodies the shore-view, su rm is ing t h e s a i l o r ' s

t e r r e s t r i a l course a t t he desperate conc lus ion t o a calamitous voyage. Its

a u t h e n t i c i t y , vo iced i n t h e "sound of the s u r f " and the "moaning o f t he sea"

heard throughout i t s pages, r e s t s w i t h i t s l i t e r a l r e l i a b i l i t y as a guide-

book, f o r i t d i r e c t s Thoreau r i g h t t o the door o f one o f the rescue houses i t

descr ibes. Looking i"nto t h e shut-up b u i l d i n g , o r "Humane house," Thoreau f i n d s a

i t incommensurate w i t h i t s o f f i c i a l d e s c r i p t i o n , b u t never the less d iscovers

i n i t s penetraJia a v i s i o n , o f t e r r i f i c darkness o f f e r i n g no conso la t i on t o the

un fo r tuna te s a i l o r :

. . .when our v i s i o n had grown f a m i l i a r w i t h t h e darkness, we d iscovered t h a t there were some .stones and s o w loose wads o f wool on t h e f l o o r , and an empty f i r e p l a c e a t t he f u r t h e r end; b u t i t was n o t supp l i ed w i t h matches, o r s t raw, o r hay, t h a t we g o u l d see, n o r "accomnodated w i t h a bench." Indeed i t was the wreck o f a l l cosmical beauty the re w i t h i n . * * * . So we sh ive red round about, n o t be ing ab le t o g e t i n t o it, ever and anon l o o k i n g through the knot-hole i n t o t h a t n i g h t w i t h o u t a s t a r , u n t i l we concluded t h a t i t was n o t a humane house a t a l l , b u t a seaside box, now sh-ut up, be long ing t o some o f the f a m i l y o f N i g h t o r Chaos, where they spent t h e i r sumers by t h e sea, f o r t he sake of the sea-breeze, and t h a t i t was n o t p roper f o r us t o be p r y i n g i n t o t h e i r concerns (pp. 77-78).

This peering and prolonged looking, guide-book description a t hand, i s

a splendid kind of tourism. From i t emerges firsthand information of the

experience of the shipwrecked sailor -- firsthand in the sense t h a t the

"wreck of a l l cosmical beauty," the "night without a s t a r , " and the summer i

tenament of "Night and Chaos" are visible t o the insightful tourist. The

prospect finally rebuffs the lookers, shrugging off a tod-humane and sentimental

curiosity. This is as mych as Thoreau, the landsman, can take in regarding

the shore awash with corpses and wreckage, and the incomprehensible residue

is assigned t o an awesome a n d impressive void -- the starless dark and the

jealous night. i

Trekking t o the very brink of the unknowable and then pausing to

contekjrlate i't before turning back to intelligible matters is a persistent

pattern in Thoreau's 1 ater travel writing. The incapacity ' t o know requires no t

apo10,gy; whole information or complete instruction are n o t the justificqtion ( i

of his travel narrations, a n d , despite his exhaustive treatment of some . phases of his travel, his disclaimers regarding completeness are numerous.

I

Unlike many travel writers, whose texts proceed from the pretext of

authoritative, comprehensive experience, Thoreau cherishes his innocence.

Thoreau had been a t work on compiling his l a s t travel narratives when

he died in 1862. The three long essays which comprise The Maine Woods -- "Ktaadn," "Chesuncook" and "The Allegash and East Branch" -- describe,

respectively, the three journeys Thoreau made t o Maine in 1846, 1853 and 1857.

The col lection establ ishes no unifying over-s tructure and 1.i t t l e or no cross-

reference links the three writings. Unlike the Cape Cod journeys, these i

three trips remain discrete narrative units , and there i s a move towards

structural simplification in this.

304 -

-- /--' e

The f i r s t d r a f t o f "Ktaadn" was completed i n the fa1 1 o f 1847, and was

pub1 ished as p e r i o d i c a l 1 i t e r a t u r e i n 1848. Sometime i n the 18501s, p robab ly

a f t e r 1857 , '~ Thoreau r e v i s e d and extended "Ktaadn" f o r i n c l u s i o n i n The Maine

Woods. Despi te t h i s f a i r l y l a t e rewo+king, however, "Ktaadn" never does

branch i n t o a shape comparable t o t h a t o f t h e "Chesuncook" and "Al legash"

essays. It preserves a s t r u c t u r a l and s t y l i s t i c r i g i d i t y and an a t y p i c a l

humourlessness which suggest t h a t , a t l e a s t w i t h t h e o r i g i n a l d r a f t , Thoreau

may have been exper iment ing w i t h a s t r i c t e r expos i to ry d i s c i p l i n e . It stands r

I" f u r t h e r f rom the l u s h e labora t i ons and p r o l i f i c q u a l i f i , c a t i o n s o f A Week on

the Concord and Merrimaek Rivers than any of Thoreau's o t h e r t r a v e l w r i t i n g

and, except f o r a few expansive passages, depends on a d e s c r i p t i v e p r o b i t y

and con f ined n a r r a t i v e focus t o make i t s statement. It seems t h a t Thoreau

was here t e s t i n g t h i s ' s o r t o f f rank , s t r a i g h t f o r w a r d s t r u c t u r e f o r i t s

capaci ty t o document n a t u r a l f a c t s . Ne i the r "Chesuncook " n o r "A1 legash" a r e

as s t r u c t u r a l l y compl icated as A Week, o r even as Cape Cod, and n e i t h e r have L

much d iscurs iveness about them, bu t bo th t r e a t suggest ive ph i l osoph ica l and

ep is temolog ica l issues even w i t h i n t h e i r d e l i b e r a t e l y 1 i m i t e d re ference. .

As i n A Week on t h e Concord and Merimack Rivers, Thoreau i s i n "Ktaadn"

aware o f t h e t r a d i t i o n w i t h i n which he w r i t e s , even t o t h e p o i n t o f supp ly ing

a l i t e r a r y h i s t o r y and b i b l i o g r a p h y r e l a t i n g t o the mountain:

Ktaadn, whos name i s an Ind ian word s i g n i f y i n g h i g h e s t land, was f i r s t ascended by w h i t e men i n 1804. I t was v i s i t e d by Professor J. W. B a i l e y of West P o i n t i n 1836, by Dr. Charles T. Jackson, the Sta te Geologist , i n 1837, and by two young men f rom Boston i n 1845. A1 1 these have g iven accounts of t h e i r expedi ti ons . Since I was there, two o r th ree o t h e r p a r t i e s have made t h e excurs ion and t o l d t h e i r s t o r i e s (pp. 3-4) .

There . i s an impor t a n t d i f f e r e n c e , however, between t h e way

acknowledges 1 i t e r a r y precedent i n A Week and i n "Ktaadn."

s Thoreau

I n t h e former, t h e

acknowledgement i s d i f f u s e and imag ina t i ve . I n "Ktaadn" i t i s i p e c i f i c

(as t h e b i b l iography shows), i n fo rma t iona l , and w i t h o u t c a l c u l a t e d awareness

o f conveht ion . I n "Ktaadn," t h e n a r r a t o r ' s obeisance t o t r a v e l convent ion

has no metaphor ica l o r f i g u r a t i v e value, and Thoreab's d i c t i o n in , t h i s 1

p iece i s convent iona l w i t h o u t t h a t edge o f i r o n y which makes h i s i m i t a t i o n

o f voyage n a r r a t i v e a l l u s i v e i n A Week.

I n s p i t e o f i t s guarded e x p o s i t i o n and convent ional id iom, however,

"Ktaadn" does no t -- and cou ld n o t -- stand a b s o l u t e l y d i vo rced from t h e

cont inuous preoccupat ions o f Thoreau' s t r a v e l w r i t i n g . I n i t s expression

of t h e exper ience o f w i lderness and e s p e c i a l l y i n i t s d e s c r i p t i o n o f t he

t r a v e l l e r ' s ascent o f M r . Ktaadn i t c a r r i e s Thoreau t o m e d i t a t i o n s on t h e

prospect o f "pure Nature," which i s " vas t , d rear , and inhuman" (p. 70). The

c l i m b e r ' s achievement o f t h e Ktaadn summit occurs th ree -qua r te rs o f t h e way

th rough t h e n a r r a t i v e , e r e c t i n g a n + e x p o s i t o r y peak and l i t e r a r y c l imax t o

t h e journey: Here t h e n a r r a t o r permi ts t h e specu la t i ve expansion o f t h e

s i t e and moment which a r r e s t s t h e t r a v e l l e r ' s o r d i n a r y m o b i l i t y and t h e

f a c t u a l account o f i t . Detaching h imsel f from h i s companions, Thoreau scales

t h e p r e c i p i c e alone. The lower l e v e l s o f h i s ascent a r e m i n u t e l y repor ted ,

u n t i l t h e v e r y q u a l i t y o f t h e c i rcumstances t o be descr ibed begins t o

e leva te and r e f i n e t h e n a r r a t i v e :

A t l e n g t h I entered w i t h i n t h e s k i r t s o f t h e c loud which seemed f o r e v e r d r i f t i n g over t h e s u m i t , and y e t would never be gone, b u t was generated o u t o f t h a t pure a i r as f a s t as i t flowed away; and when, a qua r te r o f a m i l e f u r t h e r , I reached t h e summit o f t h e r i d g e , which those who have seen i n c l e a r e r weather say i s about f i v e m i l e s long, and conta ins a thousand acres o f tab1 e- land, I was deep w i t h i n t h e h o s t i l e ranks o f c louds, and a l l o b j e c t s were obscured by them.

306 d *

I

Now t h e wind would blow me o u t a ya rd o f c l e a r s u n l i g h t , wherein I stood; t hen a gray, dawning 1 i g h t was a l l i t cou ld accomplish, t h e c l o u d - l i n e ever r i s i n g and f a l l i n g w i t h t h e wind 's i n t e n s i t y . Some- t imes i t seemed as if t h e summit would be c l e a r e d i n a few moments a ~ d , s m i l e i n sunshine: b u t what was gained on one s i d e was l o s t on another: It ' was l i k e s i t t i n g i n a chimney and w a i t i n g f o r t h e smoke t o blow away. It was, i n f a c t , a c l o u d - f a c t o r y -- these were t h e cloud-works, and t h e wind tu rned them o f f done from t h e cool , bare rocks. Occas iona l ly , when the windy columns broke i n t o me, I caught s i g h t of a dark, damp drag t o t h e r i g h t o r l e f t ; t h e m i s t d r i v i n g cease less l y between i t and me. I t reminded me o f . t h e creatl'ons o f t h e o l d e p i c and dramat ic poets, o f A t l as , Vulcan, t h e Cyclops, and Prometheus. Such was Caucasus and t h e rock where Prometheus was bound.

k- Aeschylus had no doubt v i s i t e d such scenery as t h i s . I t was vas t , T i t a n i c , and such as man never i n h a b i t s . Some p a r t s o f t h e beholder , even some v i t a l p a r t , seems t o escape through t h e l oose g r a t i n g o f h i s r i b s as he a s c e ~ d s . He i s more l o n e than you can imagine. There i s l e s s o f s u b s t a n t i a l thought and f a i r understanding i n him, t han i n t h e p l a i n s where men i n h a b i t . H is reason i s d ispersed and shadowy, more t h i n and s u b t i l e l i k e .the a i r . Vast, T i t a n i c , inhuman Nature has g o t him a t disadvantage, caught him alone, and p i l f e r s him o f some of h i s d i v i n e f a c u l t y (pp. 63-64).

The mountaineer a t t a i n s these ideas o f a t e r r i f i c , t i t a n i c regime as he

g r a d u a l l y accomplishes t h e summit i t s e l f . He observes w i t h i n t e r e s t t h e

c louds ' f l u x and r e f l u x , t hen catches an i n t e r m i t t e n t view o f a "dark, damp 2

crag" o f ep i c p r o p e r t i e s , and f i n a l l y experiences a change i n consciousness:

t h e l o s s o f "some v i t a l part ," some " s u b s t a n t i a l thought and f a i r under-

s tanding." The r e c o g n i t i o n o f an unnerv ing, un-doing mental a f f i n i t y w i t h

t h e j ou rney ' s e x a l t e d goal make a c l i m a c t i c t r a v e l event, and h i g h tour ism.

The e x p e d i t i o n ' s success i n bo th 1 i t e r a r y and geographical terms culminates

i n r a r e r e v e l a t i o n sought and won by t h e s o l i t a r y t r a v e l l e r . When Thoreau

begins h i s descent and r e j o i n s h i s companions, t h e account a b r u p t l y subsides

t o i t s methodical r e p o r t o f t h e p a r t y ' s r e t u r n t r i p .

The co~sp icuousness of t h i s n a r r a t i v e peak i s l a r g e l y a t t r i b u t a b l e t o

"Ktaadn's" u n a l l u s i v e , l i n e a r n a r r a t i o n l e a d i n g up t o and away from t h e

t r a v e l 1 e r ' s goal . Only t h e three-page summation a t t h e conc lus ion o f "Ktaadn"

o f f e r s any conterpo ise t o t h e c l i m a c t i c ascent. TheKe, Thoreau descr ibes

what was "most s t r ik ing" about the "damp and i n t r i c a t e wilderness" he had

t raversed, finding i t s wetness and continuousness especially remarkable. In

t h e inhuman- grimness of an uninhabited t e r r a i n , he discovers an "inexpressible

tenderness" suggesting a humid perpetuity:

a t a place t o 1 ive, what a place t o d i e and be buried i n ! There e r t a in ly men would l i v e forever, and laugh a t death and the grave.

There they could have no such thoughts as a r e associated with the -u vi l lage graveyard, -- t h a t make a grave out of one of those moist evergreen hummocks ! ( p. 81 )

This f inal section (which also promises t r ave l l e r s t o Maine a view of the

Ny World as seen by the discoverers) and the ascent of Ktaadn have the

imprint of mental fami l ia r i ty , or intimacy. w i t h subject , which the r e s t of

"Ktaadn" seems to lack i n i t s ' reserved, measured reporting of events. I t

i s a fami l ia r i ty tha t argues long personal association with the ideas

embedded within the journey and tha t projects the travel s tory as a phpse

of the whole in te l lec tua l career of the t r a v e l l e r . Familiarity i s achieved

in A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers throu& an endlessly elaborate

narrat ive s t ruc ture , i n A Yankee in Canada through a wry, ironical s e l f -

consciousness and an extensive l i t e r a r ) s e t t ing , and in Cape Cod through

the considered fusing of three thoughtful journeys into one. " Chesuncook" and

"The Allegash and East Branch" suggest the same intimate connection w i t h

scene and subject as the e a r l i e r writings b u t in these l a t e essays famil iar i ty

i s achieved through an engrossed narrat ive concentration on the events of

the journeys made i n 1853 and 1857. Thematic issues a r i s e d i r e c t l y from

what takes p1 ace abroad.

In "Chesuncook" hunting i s the apparent theme treated by the narrative.

On t h i s t r i p Thoreau was a member of a moose-hunting expedition, b u t not a

hunter himself. Like Irving in A Tour on the P ra i r i e s , he i s , b o t h i n and out

f

-1 of the scene, actor sand witness, t r a v e l l e and reporter : P Though I had n o t come a-hunting, and f e l t some compunctions about accompanying the hunters, I wished to see a moose near a t hand, and was n o t sorry to learn how the Indian managed to k i l l one. I went as reporter or chaplain to the hunters -- and'the chaplain has been known t o t a r ry a g u n himse1.f ( p . ? 99 ) .

<

Again l i k e Irving, Thoreau does not r ev i l e the hunters of his own p&ty, b u t

does make something out of his own ideological position. His v'iew of himself '-,

as "reporter and chaplain" i s f i t t i n g for he provides both the account of the 'I

, event and the moral commentary on i t . He does not in t e r f e re in the execution '.

of the hunters' ambitions, b u t once the game i s bagged he does sta%e -out the

moral t e r r i t o r y he holds in re la t ion t o the event.

Hunting does not occupy the whole focus of the composition. 'The sense \

of wilderness i s pervasive, a n d crucial to the shape of the composition. B u t , * ultimately, wilderness and the h u n t a r e part of the same thematic i n t e r e s t ,

which asks f i r s t what man's place i s in t h i s moist, fecund desert,'and then C

,travel l e r - a r t i s t ' s place i s . The Indian guide has impeccable

I s , b u t they a r e n o t equivalent to Thoreau's; and tha t leaves k

u n a n s w e r ~ d ~ u e r ~ as to his own s ta t ion in th i s remote place. The question d

i s more fu l ly addressed in "The Allegash and East Branch," b u t the reply i s

f i r s t drafted in "Chesuncook."

Finding the ideal form within which to make some personal connection

with the sol m n i t y of nature i s not easy, b u t occasionally some appealing

suggestion presents i t s e l f . One evening the traveTlers1 canoe ca r r i e s them

unobser-ved over a b w k w a t m y pas t t h e camp o f two red-shirted "explorers,"

=r tbber-surveyors . A n image o f the two men fixes i t s e l f i n Thoreau's mind, a

' s i ~ g e s t i n g a conclusive mode in which t o travel the New World fo res t s :

I have o f t e n wished s ince t h a t I was w i t h them. They search f o r t imber over a g i ven sec t i on , c l i m b i n g h i l l s and o f t e n h i g h t r e e s t o l o o k o f f , exp lo re t h e streams by which i t i s t o be d r i v e n , and t h e 1 i k e y spend f i v e o r s i x weeks i n t h e woods, they two- a lone, a hundred m i l e s o r more from any town, roaming about and s l e e p i n g s o n t h e ground where n i g h t over takes them, depending c h i e f l y on t h e p r o v i s i o n s t h e y c a r r y w i t h them, though they do n o t d e c l i n e what game they come across .... It i s a s o l i t a r y and adventurous l i f e , and comes nearest t o t h a t o f t h e t r a p p e r o f t h e west, perhaps. Working ever w i t h a gun as w e l l as an axe, l e t t i n g t h e i r beards grow, w i t h o u t neighbours, n o t on an open p l a i n , b u t f a r w i t h i n a w i l de rness (p. 101 ) .

A t t h i s p o i n t i n "Chesuncook" t h i s i t i n e r a n t , " s o l i t a r y and adventurous" c

ex is tence represents an i d e a l , p a s t o r a l k i n d o f t r a v e l , a u t h o r i z e d by a

decent l abou r . But i n t h e u l t i m a t e fo rmu la t i ons sf "Chesuncook" and

"A l legash" i t i s n o t a s u f f i c i e n t l y innocent work t h a t t h e lumbermen c a r r y

on, f o r i t imp1 i c a t e s them i n t h e same e x p l o i t a t i o n and depredat ion t h a t i s

t h e g u i l t y business o f t h e hunter . The t r u e economic r e l a t i o n t o t h e f o r e s t

i s . ye t t o be es tab l i shed by t h e p o e t - t r a v e l l e r .

Thoreau determines t h e g u i l t o f t h e hunter through a c o n t r o l l e d and

thorough d e s c r i p t i o n o f t h e r e s u l t s o f t h e chase. I t i s n o t a specious

v e r d i c t , bu t a considered and v e r i f i a b l e judgement, developed p rog ress i ve l y

th rough o b j e c t i v e l y c o l l ected evidence, be<inning w i t h measurement: B'

I t ook t h e co rd which served f o r t h e canoe's p a i n t e r , and w i t h Joe's ass i s tance measured t h e moose c a r e f u l l y , t h e g r e a t e s t d is tances f i r s t , aak ing a knot each t ime. The p a i n t e r being wanted, I reduced these Teasures t h a t n i g h t w i t h equal ca re tb l eng ths and f r a c t i o n s o f my m b r e l l a, beginning w i t h t h e smal l e s t measures, and u n t y i n g t h e knots a s I proceeded; and when we a r r i v e d a t Chesuncook t h e nex t day, f i n d i n g a two - foo t r u l e the re , I reduced t h e l a s t t o f e e t and inches; and, w r e o v e r , I made myse l f a two- foot r u l e o f a t h i n and narrow s t r i p o f 9 lack ash, which would f o l d up conven ien t l y t o s i x inches. A l l t h i s 2ains I took because I d i d n o t w ish t o be o b l i g e d t o say mere ly t h a t t 9 e roose was very l a r g e (p. 113).

qn.-= - ,,, :be d inensions a r e determined, t h e r e p o r t s o f o the r hunters whom

Tnccea .~ consu l ted a r e c i t e d , w i t h a fond i n t e r e s t i n t h e e x t r a o r d i n a r y

propor t i ons o f t h e species. W i th t h e s k i n n i n g o f t h e animal , however, t h e

f i r s t i n t u i t i o n s , of t h e nas t iness and i m p r o p r i e t y o f t h e e n t e r p r i s e s l i p

i n t o t h e n a r r a t o r 1 s f a c t u a l r e p o r t i n g :

Here, j u s t a t t h e head o f t h e murmuring r a p i d s , Joe now proceeded t o s k i n t h e moose w i t h a pocket k n i f e , w h i l e I looked on, and a t r a g i c a l business i t was; t o see t h a t s t i l l warm and pal p i t a t i n g body p ie rced w i t h a k n i f e , t o see t h e warm m i l k stream from t h e r e n t udder, and

' t h e g h a s t l y naked r e d carcass appearing from w i t h i n i t s seemly robe, which was made t o h i d e i t (pp. 115-16). ,

But t h e conc lus i ve view o f t h e " t r a g i c a l business" i s postponed, w i t h e f f e c t .

The d i sposa l of t h e carcass, t h e consumption o f a moose-meat supper, and a

moon1 i g h t excurs ion i n t h e canoe de la j l t h e moral outcome o f t h i s segment o f

t h e n a r r a t i v e . Return ing t o camp, e a s i l y t ranspor ted th rough t h e s t i l l water ,

9 the t r a v e l l e r i n repose construes a l e s s emp i r i ca l and more s p e c u l a t i v e - .

v e r s i o n o f t h e " a f t e r n o o n ' s t ragedy" which, says Thoreau, "as i t a f f e c t e d t h e

innocence, destroyed t h e p1 easure o f my adventure" ( p. 11 9 ) . These 1 ucubra t ions

c e n t r e on t h e moral1 economy o f man's employment i n t h e f o r e s t :

Th is a f te rnoon ' s exper ience suggested t o me how base o r coarse a r e t h e mot ives which commonly c a r r y men i n t o t h e w i lderness . The exp lo re rs , and lumberers g e n e r a l l y , a r e a l l h i r e 1 i ngs, p a i d so much a day f o r t h e i r l a b o r , and as such, t hey have no more l o v e f o r w i l d nature, than wood-sawyers have f o r f o r e s t s . Other w h i t e men and Ind ians who come here a r e f o r t h e most p a r t hunters, whose o b j e c t i s t o s l a y as many moose and o t h e r w i l d animals as poss ib le . But , pray, cou ld n o t one spend some weeks o r years i n t h e s o l i t u d e o f t h i s v a s t w i lderness w i t h o t h e r employments than these -- employments p e r f e c t l y sweet and innocent and ennobTing? For one t h a t tomes w i t h a p e n c i l ' to ske tch o r s ing , a thousand come w i t h an axe o r r i f l e . What a coarse and imper fec t use I k f f p n s and hunters make o f na ture ! f p . 120).

Thoreat i ts o b s e r v a t i v n ~ on a pu re t o u r i s m a r e not mere ly p h i l o s o p h i c a l

adornments o f t h e s t o r y , f o r he t u r n s f rom them t o t h e i r a p p l i c a t i o n when, he

decl i nes t o accompany t h e hunters on t h e downstream hunt, and w a i t s i n s t e a d

a t t h e camp. There he p r a c t i s e s t h e b e t t e r , " innocent and ennobl ing"

31 1

employment proposed above: "In the midst of the damp f i r wood, high on the

mossy bank, about nine o'clock of t h i s bright moonlight night, I kindled a f i r e ,

when they-were gone, and s i t t i n g on. the f i r - twigs , w i t h i n sound of the f a l l s ,

examined by i t s l i g h t the botanical specimens I had c%llected tha t afternoon,

and wrote down some~of the re f lec t ions which I have here expanded ... ." ( p . 120)

With t h i s accumulation of positioning information, Thoreau constructs the

a1 te rna te relat ionship t o wilderness tha t will es tab l i sh a decorous ro le

f o r . t h e t r ave l l e r . F i r s t , by conducting himself, as a t o u r i s t , i n a decent

and constructive way, reviewing his botanical specimens, and writing down

his commentary on the day's journey, he does the proper work of the innocent

t rave l l er . Second, by making the 1 i t e ra ry t ex t , he makes "sweet" and

perfect use of nature, col lect ing and reconstructing the materials of the s i t e L/---V-

-- the "damp f i r wood," the "mossy bank," the moonlight hour, the proximous

"sound of the f a l l s . "

This event i s central i n "Chesuncook," both i,n i t s mid-.point position

in the narrat ive, and i n i t s thematic influence. I t advances towards

resolving some of the tensions related to the t r a v e l l e r ' s aes the t ic and

ethical business i n t he wilderness, b u t Thoreau remains s l igh t ly uneasy i n ,

his r o l e i n t h i s second essay, chief ly because of the predatory mission of the

expedition. Shortly a f t e r the moose-kill , the t rave l l ers lodge a t a s e t t l e r ' s

house for a night, and in his report of t h e i r accommodations, Thoreau reveals

his view of himself among his companions: ". . . a l l t ha t I noticed unusual in

the night -- for I s t i l l kept taking notes, l i k e a spy i n the camp -- was

the creaking of the th in s p l i t boards, when any of our neighbours s t i r r e d n

[p. 130). In "The Allegash and East Branch" Thoreau i s no longer a "spy i n

the camp," regis ter ing a minority repor t , b u t the formulator and ins t iga tor

I o f t h e journey , r e s p o n s i b l e f o r i t s outcome.

On t h i s t h i r d journey, t h e ques t i on o f man's depredat ion o f t h e f o r e s t

i s s t i l l c e n t r a l , bu t t h e t r a v e l l e r has learned enough about h i s own s t a t u s k

abroad i n t h e woods t o be i n t e r e s t e d i n t h e amb igu i t i es i n h e r e n t i n t h e

issue. The embodiment o f most o f these ambigu i t ies i s Joseph Pol i s , t h e

I n d i a n guide engaged by Thoreau and h i s companion t o conduct them through t h e

Maine f o r e s t s . Thoreau i s fasc ina ted by Pol i s , watches him w i t h r e l e n t l e s s

a t t e n t i o n , i n t e r r o g a t e s him on every conce ivab le ma t te r , and asks him t o

P per orm many t y p i c a l t asks t h a t he may observe h i s methods. "Al legash"

begins and ends w i t h Joe P o l i s , and d u r i n g t h e journey he i s t h e agent -- some-

t imes d i r e c t l y b u t f iore o f t e n i n d i r e c t l y -- o f t he n a r r a t o r ' s a r r i v i n g a t

knowledge o f t h e w i l de rness . The f i r s t paragraph o f t h e n a r r a t i v e announces

the e x c u r s i o n i s t s ' i n t e n t i o n t o secure an I n d i a n guide; t h e second paragraph

in t roduces Joe h imse l f , "one o f t h e a r i s t o c r a c y " among Ind ians . The l a s t

paragraph o f " A l l egash" r e p o r t s n o t t h e t r a v e l l e r s ' r e t u r n t o Concord, b u t

t h e conc lus ion o f t h e n a r r a t o r ' s ,acquaintenance w i t h h i s guide: "Th is was

t h e l a s t I saw o f Joe P o l i s . We took t h e l a s t t r a i n and reached Bangor t h a t

n i g h t " (p. 297). Throughout most o f t h e n a r r a t i v e , Pol i s i s r e f e r r e d t o n o t

by name, b u t g e n e r i c a l l y , as " t h e Ind ian . " (Edward Hoar, who accompanied

Thoreau from Concord, i s , w i t h o u t except ion, "my companion. " ) A1 though t h e

d e t a i l s o f t h e r o u t e a r e r e l a t e d w i t h m inu te p a r t i c u l a r i t y and toponymy i s

always exact , Joe Pol i s h imsel f becomes a general r e p r e s e n t a t i v e of t h e expe r t . w i f derness t r a v e l 1 e r and hunter . Beside t h i s eminent t y p e Thoreau t r a v e l s .

A t f i r s t i t appears t h a t Pol i s must be t h e l eader o f t h e exped i t i on .

He i s a p ro fess iona l t r a v e l 1 er-hunter , p r e t e r n a t u r a l l y fami l i a r w i t h these

woods. His r t i s e , i s consu l ted a t every t u r n , and h i s o p i n i o n s a r e respected

by his two employers. As Beatte held a respectable, even revered position i n

I rv ing ' s A Tour on the P ra i r i e s , so, , too, i s Polis central and prestigious i .n

"Allegash." B u t "Allegash" i s Thoreaul's, not Pol i s ' . Polis i s only the

guide and not the or iginator of the journey, only thg conductor and not the

preceptor. His knowingness -- immense, arcane and exotic as i t i s -- i s

only one mode of apprehending the expedition. The other , and f i n a l l y

dominant mode i s the nar ra tor ' s own.

The Indian occupies his central position part ly by v i r tue of Thoreau's

indefatigable i n t e r e s t i n h-is s k i l l s a 4 methods. One of Pol is ' most

s t r ik ing a b i l i t i e s i s his facul ty for following a predetermined track through

t rackless woods. When Thoreau t i r e s t o detect some of the signs and signals

tha t a r e so evident to the Indian, he occasionally achieves some s l i g h t

success, on which he congratulates himself. B u t t he matter intr igues h i m

beyond his own amateurish imitat ions, and he examines Polis on i t . Where does

his unerring directional know1 edge or iginate?

I t appeared as i f the sources a f information were so various tha t he did not give a d i s t i n c t , conscious a t ten t ion t o any one, and so could not readi ly re fer t o any when questioned about i t , b u t he found his way very much as an animal does; Perhaps what i s commonly called ins t inc t i n the animal, i n t h i s case i s merely a sharpened and educated sense (p . 185).

The Indian's answers and information a r e scarcely reportable -- only

anecdotal o r vague and inar t icu la te . Ins t inc t , l o re , and education a r e a l l

modes for get t ing around in t h i s t rackless land, some prac t ica l ly e f f i c i en t - -

rather than philosophically eipeditious. Thoreau, as a t r a v e l l e r , i s not

in fe r io r to the Indian for his incompetence in direction-finding; he simply

advances according to a d i f fe rent chart .

Supersti t ion and wonderment a re also possible t a c t i c s fo r taking in

the experience, and finding a way through the wilderdiss. In a f ine ?

episodC:occurring soon a f t e r the embarkation into the f o r e s t , Thoreau

discovers some phosphorescent wood, while tending the campfire: 4

Getting u p some time a f t e r midnight t o co l lec t the scattjlyed brands - together, while my companions were sound asleep, I observed, par t ly in the f i r e , whfch had e a s e d to blaze, a perfectly regular e l l i p t i c a l tg

u t f i ve inches 9n i t s shor tes t diameter, s i x o r seven r i n g O f i n , I i F s longer, and quarter of an inch wide. I t was f u l l y as b u t not reddish or s c a r l e t l i k e a coal', b u t a l i k e the glowworm's ( p . 179).

From t h i s precise measurement and s securing of the exact qua l i ty of'

illuminati@,\and from Thoreau's - equent a c t i v i t i e s i n d issect ing the -,

item, i t seems t h a t an empirical method will explain and f i x the specimen i n .

the narrative. B u t science i s rejected as an expository t a c t i c a f t e r Polis

has been consilted on the significance of the phosphorescenq material:

" A s c i e n t i f i c explanation, as i t i s ca l led , would hav.e been al together out

of place there" (p. 181 ) . Much more f i t t i n g , and i n place, a re the

superst i t ions attached by Indian cul ture t o the luminescent wood, and the

t r a v e l l e r ' s s i tua t ion -- beside a dying campfire in a dense, unpeopled fo res t

-- puts the experience i n i t s mystic f r a y : " I did not regret my not having I

seen t h i s before, since I now saw i t under circumstances so favorablelL ( p . 181).

Thoreau i s provisionally a convert to a natural metaphysic, which i s genuinely

illuminating in t h i s remote place as science cannot be. e 1

I

I t made a believer of me more than before. I believed tha t the woods were not tenant less , b u t choke-full of honest s p i r i t s as good as myself any day, -- not an empty chamber, i n which chemi3try was l e f t to work alone, b u t an inhabited house, -- and fo r a few moments I enjoyed fellowship w i t h t h em.... I am not sure b u t a l l t ha t would t e m p t me t o teach the Indian my re1 igion would be his promise t o teach me - his (pp. 181-82).

Yowever, Thdreau cannot 1 ong r e s i s t h i s i n v e s t i g a t i v e , s c i e n t i f i c h a b i t s ,

and must c o l l e c t a few l e s i n o r q e r t o extend h i s i n f o r m a t i o n o f t h i s

" l i g b t t h a t dwe l ls i n r o n wood." He concludes t h e event w i t h a one-sentence

paragraph: "I kept t hose l i t t l e ch ips and wet them aga in t h e nex t n i g h t , 8

bu t t h e y emi t ted no l i g h t " ( p . 182). Wi th t h i s sentence t h e r e v e l a t o r y

i l l u m i n a t i o n i s ex t ingu ished and e m p i r i c a l methods a r e r e i n s t a t e d . - For t h e ex t i ngu i shed l i g h t t o so compactly conclude t h e t r a v e l l e r ' s

sacred know1 edge o f t h e .aboreal s p i r i t - w o r l d r e f 1 ec ts t h e compl e x i t y o f t h e

ep is temolog ica l model i n "Allegash.", Al though Pol i s i s t h e source o f some

p o e t i c a l l y a p t i n f o r m a t i o n rega rd ing t h e phosphorescence, he . is f a r from

being a re1 i a b i e s p i r i t u a l gu ide th rough t h i s i n t r i c a t e l o c a t i o n . Even when

he repeats indigenous myths-he i s o n l y loquacious and unconvinc ing, t e l l i n g --

h i s s t o r y "as 'if he thought i t deserved t o have a good deal s a i d about it,,

o n l y he has no t g o t i t t o say, and so makes up f o r t h e d e f i c i e n c y by a

d r a w t i n g tone, long-windedness and a dumb wonder which he hopes w i l l be

contagious" "p. 172). And worse than t h i s i n d e f i n i t e rehearsa l o f t h e my th i c - p r o p e r t i e s o f c e r t a i n landmarks Pol i s ' s l i g h t l y out1 andish C h r i s t i a n

p i e t y . On t h e f i r s t Sunday o f e x p e d i t i o n he a f f e c t s an unw i l l i ngness t o

c o n t r i b u t e t o t h e , p a r t y l s advance, t hen concedes h i s se rv i ces , say ing he w i l l t

go on, b u t t ake no pay f o r t h e Sunday. H is r e l u c t a n c e hawever i s an empty A

observance, f o r "he d i d no t f o r g e t t o reckon i n t h e Sundays a t l a s t , " when

p a i d o f f . A l t oge the r , h i s p i e t y d imin ishes h i s a u t h o r i t y and f u r t h e r

compl icates h i s r o l e on th'e jodrney. His morning and evening prayers, h i s

i n t e r e s t i n Daniel Webster, and h i s s u b s c r i p t i o n t o a Bangor newspaper a r e 1 1

n o t mere ly s u p e r f i c i a l abe r ra t i ons on the a b o r i g i n a l form b u t p a r t o f t he man

hifnsel f . They ar'e no t 1 ess i n t e g r a l t o h i s cha rac te r than h i s a b i l i t y t o

G 5

31 6

" t a l k " t o musquash, o r h i s f i n e care1 essness as t o homecomings : "As we drew

near t d Oldtown I asked P o l i s i f he was n o t g lad t o ge t home again, and he

, ' I t makes no d i f f e r e n c e t o me where I am"' (p. 296),

thorough and temperat-e a s tudy does Thoreau make o f Joe P o l i s , and

h i s t r a v e l ways, t h a t t h e romant ic expecta t ions he m igh t once have h e l d i n

regard t o t h e a b o r i g i n a l wanderer a r e dismantl'ed. The c o n s t r u c t i v e ,

u n i f y i n g t a s k r e v e r t s t o t h e t r a v e l l e r - a r t i s t h imse l f , t h e o r i g i n a t o r o f *

t h e journey. The e t h i c o f competence and e x p e r t i s e i s inadequate t o e x p l a i n

t h e exped i t ion , and Pol i s ' woodlore can desc r ibe o n l y t h e p r a c t i c a l f u n c t i o n s

o f t r a v e l ; h i s know1 edge of t h e Maine woods i s incomplete- and p a r t i a l . j u s t as

the hunters ' and sawyers' i s imper fec t . Even h i s smal l p r a c t i c e s can o f f e n d

the l a r g e r a e s t h e t i c m a t r i x o f t he journey. When he f i r e s h i s gun, 4 \

p u r p o r t e d l y t o c lean i t ou t , he i n t r u d e s on t h e woods' so lemni ty , as i t i s

perceived by t h e t r a v e l 1 e r from Massachusetts : "Th is sudden! 1 oud, c rash ing

no ise i n t h e s t i l l a i s l e s o f t h e f o r e s t , a f f e c t e d mg l i k e an i n s u l t t o L'

nature, o r ill manners a t any r a t e , as i f you were t o f i i r e a gun i n a h a l l

' o r temple" (p. 192). . *

In "Chesuncook" Thoreau asks t o what use na tu re can be decen t l y pu t , and

c e r t a i n wanton

f u l l y . Here,

. . h i s journey i s

awesome na tu re

' o b s t r u c t i v e t o

$r what employment < - Puts man i n a chas te r e l a t i o n s h i p t o t h e landscape. .

,"Chesuncook" p a r t i a l l y answers, w i t h i t s i n d i c t m e n t o f t-he coarseness o f I

-4 human e n t e r p r i s e s i n t h e f o r e s t , b u t "Al legash" rep1 i e s more

i n t h i s l a s t essay, t h e bes t t h i n g a t r a v e l l e r can make f rom

v' t h e d i r e c t , 1 i t e r a l r e p o r t of h i s own passage th rough t h i s

. A complete, f unc t i bna l knowledge i s unnecessary, and even

an o r i g i n a l v e r s i o n o f t h e w i lderness . I n f a c t , t h e ignorance

o f t h e t r a v e l 1 e r confers an e loquent d i g n i t y on h i s observa t ions and '

*: impressions. His consciousness of t he extreme fore ignness o f h i s

s i t u a t i o n and h i s sense o f e x t r a o r d i n a r y i s o l a t i o n a r e e s p e c i a l l y i n f l u e n t i a l

i n fo rmula t ing these impressions: I

I t was, as usual, a damp and shaggy fo res t , t h a t Caucomgomoc one, and the most you know about i t was, t h a t on t h i s s i d e i t s t r e t c h e d toward the set t lements, and on t h a t t o s t i l l more unfrequented reg ions . You c a r r i e d so much topography i n you r mind always, -- and sometimes i t seemed t o make a cons iderab le d i f f e rence whether you s a t o r l a y nearer the set t lements, o r f u r t h e r o f f , than your companions, -- were the r e a r o r f r o n t i e r man o f t he camp (p. 200).

This imag ina t i ve map conveys 1 i t t l e concrete i n fo rmat ion , most ly t h e over-

whelming idea o f t he uninhabitedness o f t he v i c i n i t y , b u t i t s graphic

imminence i n the mind o f the t r a v e l l e r i s p a r t o f h i s reconnaisance o f h i s

course and h i s p o s i t i o n . Only t h e t r u e t r a v e l l e r , who has no business t o

do and no m a t e r i a l scheme t o execute, w i l l cont inuous ly d i scover h i s own

passage through the uncharted d i s tance o f these shaggy woods. The f o r e s t i s

much more a w i lderness t o Thoreau than t o Joe Pol i s , who can read i t s s igns.

Thoreau's n a t u r a l , w i lderness 1 i teracy i s o f a d i f f e r e n t o rder , d i sce rn ing

the t y p i c a l f i g u r e o f t h e journey and expressing i t . For i ns tance when making I

camp a t n i g h t ,

t he re i s no saun te r ing o f f t o see the country, and ten o r f i f t e e n rods sePms a g r e a t way f rom your companions, and you come back w i t h

as f r o m a l ong journey, w i t h adventures t o r e l a t e , may have heard the crack1 i n g o f t he f i r e a1 1 the

rods you m igh t be l o s t p a s t recovery, i s a l l mossy and rnoosey. I n s o m o f those i

there i s h a r d l y room fo r the smoke t o go [ n i g h t , and every fir and spruce which

n i g h t ' s raven wing. Then a t n i g h t t he general s t i l lness 1s more impressive than any sound, b u t occas iona l l y you hear t h e note of an owl f u r t h e r o r nearer i n the woods, and i f near a lake, t h e semi-human c r y of t he loons a t t h e i r unear th l y r e v e l s (p. 275) . b

This description of actual camp conditions leads f i r s t to the eternal

impingement of this no-man's-land on the small ter r i tory accessible to

the travellers , then to the exotic density of the bush, figured in the

"night's raven wing," and to the strange and supernatura1,ly foreign nyise

i n t h e "semi-human cry of the loons a t their unearthly revels." In th is

kind of progressive documentation of scene, Thoreau i s both more and less

an alien witness t h a n Joe Polis. His apprehension of the remote and

"unearthly" i s part of his unfamiliarity with the wilderness, b u t his

l i terary manipulation of these aloof evidences finally gives him surer and

more intimate command of the s i t e than any mere woodsman's c r a f t could.

A1 though he mus t admi re and credi t Pol i s ', expedi t i ous ski 11 s , ,Thoreau i s

himsel f the better , more phi 1 osophical travel 1 er . . /

/'

I n "The A1 legash and East Branch" Thoreau makes an original journey,

a t f i rsthand. The elaborate, pro1 i f i c references fo secondary sources in

his early travel writing are nearly gone from this l a s t essay, except for

a few s t r i c t l y informational instances. He se ts out, a t l a s t , on uncharted

seas, making a 1 i teral voyage of his own devising, for which he i s the best

authority.

In the ea r l i e r works, volumes of preparatory reading and 1 i terary

precedent stood between ~hbreau and the scenes he encountered in his travels.

On1 y extremely complex narrative structure could manage the sys terns of

l i t e ra ry reference which support A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers.

Structure i s simplified when the intermediary agents are dismissed, as they

a.re in "The Allegash and East Branch ," and when the journey's sequence and

settings are adhered t o rather than transcended in order t o produce a text .

Getting rid of intervening influences and in t r ica te intentions meant coming

to Maine as the f i r s t t r ave l l e r s came to American wildernesses, and the

cen t ra l i ty of Joe Pol i s in "The Allegash and East Branch'' i s one indication

of Thoreau's success in t h i s . Polis i s an organizing pr inciple discovered

in the natural s t ruc ture of the journey, as local and indigenous as the

i t i ne ra ry i tsel f . Like the patriarchal conductor Matonabbee in Samuel I

Hearne's Journey to the Northern Ocean or the true protector Wawatam in

Alexander Henry's Travels and Adventures in Canada, Pol i s suppl i es the

example of the indigenous type, and he i s Thoreau's own discovery. Pol i s '

methods, behaviour and thought, l i ke Beatte 's in A Tour on the Pra i r ie , are

so a l ien to the travel narrator as to exc i te curiosi ty and wonder, while

the rare moments of sympathy between t r ave l l e r and native arouse the

excitement of sympathy. The narrat ive treatment of Pol i s demonstrates the

foreignness of the region through which Thoreau t ravels and, occasionally,

the news tha t no place i s en t i r e ly foreign. I

Through exact and s t r i c t represen ta t ion , Pol i s and the measured

passage through the f o r e s t a re made to be a su f f i c i en t t ex t , recapturing

the powerful authent ici ty o f the l i t e r a l reports of or iginal ventures. I t

was t h i s authentici-ty which Thoreau was a f t e r a l l along when he chose

travel narrat ive, in l i e u of other generic s t ruc tures , to account fo r his

a own American experience., This was the rhetorical authori ty he sought in

order to make natural statements about new ideas in a new place.

Notes

Chapter 6

1 Washington I r v i n g , The Sketch Book o f Geof f rey Crayon, Gent. (New

York: Dodd, Mead, 1954), p. 1 . Subsequent re fe rences a r e t o t h i s e d i t i o n

and w i l l appear i n t h e t e x t .

Z Washington I r v i n g , Notes w h i l e Prepar ing Sketch Book &c. 1817 (New

Haven: Yale, 1927), p. 67. Subsequent references a r e t o t h i s e d i t i o n and

w i l l appear i n t h e t e x t .

3 I n t h i s s t o r y , an agreeable b u t c a v a l i e r l o v e r i s t h e d i r e c t cause

o f t he maiden's demise; he suf fers g u i l t ' a n d g r i e f i n t h e same v e i n as

I r v i n g ' s own cu r ious remorse ove r M a t i l d a Hoffman's death.

4 i Washington I r v i n g , A Tour on t h e P r a i r i e s (Norman: Univ. o f Oklahoma

Press, 1956), p. 9. Subsequent re fe rences a r e t o t h i s e d i t i o n and w i l l appear

i n t h e t e x t .

The Western Journa ls of Washington I r v i n g (Norman: Univ. o f Oklahoma

Press, 1944), p. 98. Subsequent re fe rences a r e t o t h i s e d i t i o n and w i l l

appear i n t h e t e x t .

Henry David Thoreau, A Week on t h e Concord and Merrimack R ive rs (Boston:

Houghton M i f f 1 i n ) , p. 347. Subsequent references a r e t o t h i s e d i t i o n and w i l l

appear i n t h e t e x t .

I Henry David Thoreau, A Yankee i n Canada (.Montreal : Harvest House, 1961 ) ,

p. 13. Subsequent references a r e t o t h i s e d i t i o n and w i l l appear i n t h e t e x t .

The t e x t makes no re fe rence t o a f o u r t h journey undertaken i n June

Henry David Thoreau, ~ a & Cod (Boston: R ive rs ide , 1906), p. 5 . ! Subsequent references a r e t o t h i s e d i t i o n and w i l l appear i n t h e t e x t .

\ '. See Joseph J. !!oldenhauser's "Textual I n t r o d u c t i o n " t o The Maine Woods \. \

(Pr ince ton : Pr ince ton Univ. Press, l 9 7 2 ) , p. 359. Subsequent references t o

The Maine Woods a r e t o t h i s e d i t i o n and w i l l appear i n t h e t e x t . .

Chapter 7

Speaking O u t : Travel and Structure

i n the Early Narratives. of Herman Pelvi l l e

Except for Thoreau, w h o went his own way i n h i s own time, the travel ' lers

so f a r considered moved and wrote within the prevailing currents of t r a f f i c /'

wh'ich connected the Of d World with newer places. The movement was westward,

a n d those who wrote about th i s hemisphere instructed European audiences. B u t

in the nineteenth century a new audience for travel writings appeared:

American readers fel t themselves d i s t i n c t enough from Europeans to be

/" iqterested i n comparisons between themsel ves and inhabitants of the Old L

Worl d and to r eH s h recapi tul a t ions of European scenes and-manners.

Washington Irving 's ear ly travel sketches addressed these i n t e r e s t s ; in the

next chapter I will discuss the writings of Samuel Clemens and William Dean

Howel 1s in reference to the i r overseas tvavels as well as t h e i r American

journeys. The American abroad became, in the nineteenth century, an important

1 i t e rary idea. ( A substantial par t of Henry James's voluminous imagination

rested on t h i s provocative concept. ) For Americans., opportunities for

cultural se l f -def in i t ion or advance seemed to l i e i n the notion of t rans-

Atlantic t rave l . Hi1 1 ing t o t e s t t h e i r dis t inct iveness , American wri ters and

readers deli berated on the consequences of the American's being a t large in

t h 1 , I n Canada i n the nineteenth century, the idea of European travel

en>gyed no comparable 1 i t e rary prosperity, and Canadians did not become a .

teecirri t ive audience for travel narratijie as Americans did. In Cinada, the

-?2s:-ic-west currerit o f t rave: narrative l e f t a strong residual influence

322

not soon to be evaded.

In t h i s chapter f w i l l consider the e a r l y wri t ings o f Herman Melvi l le ,

primari ly f o r t h e i ? exemplary p roper t i es i n r e l a t i o n to the t rave l genre and

fo r those qua1 i t i e s which demonstrate d i s t i n c t i o n s between novel i s t i c

na r r a t i ve a n d t ravel n a r r a t i v e . Ye1 vi 11 e , a pre-eminent f i gu re i n American

1 i t e r a r y h i s t o ry , began h i s c a r ee r as a wr i t e r o f t r ave l n a r r a t i v e . Typee

!1&5f and Omoo (1847) a re t r ave l books; Redburn (1849) and White-Jacket

(1850) a r e more t ravel books than they a r e anything e l s e . Unlike Thoreau,

Ye lv i l l e t r ave l l ed o u t , away from America, following d i r ec t i ons pointing

i n Typee and Omoo beyond t h i s New World to newer worlds and i n Redburn back - t o the Old World. B u t , 1 i ke Thoreau, he followed 1 i t e r a r y precedent i n

h i s t r ave l wr i t i ng , repeat ing the formal modes of those who had gone before. 3

T h a t both Thoreau and. Pel v i l l e , two major American w r i t e r s , worked extensively

i n t h e t ravel genre , suggests that t h i s l i t e r a r y form held l a rge meaning f o r

the American imagination.

A1 though twentieth-century commentary o n Typee: A Peep a t Polynesian

Life k r i n q a Four b n t h s t Residence i n , a Valley of the k r q y e s a s general ly

t r e a t s the book as a semi-autobiographical f i c t i o n o r near-novel , Melv i l l e ' s

co'ntem~orary audience reswnded t o i t on the bas is o f i t s l i t e r a l informative- I

qesr -and i t s evident p rac t i ce of the conventions of t ravel na r r a t i ve . The

3 ~ b f i t recention o f Typee ra i sed r e l a t i v e l y few questions a s t o the book's ,

f a c t u a l re1 i abi 1 i t y . ! t was accepted, general 1 y , a s an au then t ic a1 bei t

c ~ l n u r f u l t ravel document, and m s t reservat ions regarding I t s soundness

wire coral r a t he r t h a n empi r ica l , Sme reviewers did question the i d e n t i t y

z C :be author , suspecting sme genteel subterfuge: could a common s a f l o r

c m o o s e d so eloquent 3r;d l u c id a na r r a t i ve? Others allowed t h a t Melvil le

---., 324

t

mhy have exaggerated o r heightened t h e adventure p o r t i o n o f t h e composi t i o n ,

bu t o n l y t o the advantage o f t h e en ter ta inment as a whole. An anonymous

American rev iewer expressed t h i s t y p i c a l response : "The scenes, descr ibed

w i t h p e c u l i a r an imat ion and v i v a c i t y , a re o f a d e s c r i p t i o n t h a t must t ask

the c r e d u l i t y o f most p l a i n m a t t e r o f f a c t people; y e t they a r e w i t h o u t doubt

f a i t h f u l l y sketched.. . . This rev iewer , by p r e d i c t i n g t h e i n c r e d u l i t y , j

o f some readers, recommended Typee on j u s t t h a t bas i s : i t would amaze

American readers w i t h i t s wonderful news from abroad, and w i t h i t s t r u t h f u l

marvels. I t was n o t o n l y t he hi.gh adventure and d r

t h a t a t t r a c t e d i t s readers . I n Typee' s s u b s t a n t i a l

i t s " t r a v e l " con ten t -- was i t s formal appeal t o an

the i dea t h a t e x o t i c t r a v e l t r u l y revea led as ton i sh

m a t i c a c t i o n o f t h e book

exposi t o r y con ten t -- audience which enjoyed

ng s i g h t s t o the voyager.

I n the t w e n t i e t h century , r e p o r t s from remote p laces s u r p r i s e us l e s s .

Ex terna l spec tac les a r e n o t as i n t e r e s t i n g as i n t e r i o r mak!%+stions, and

modern c r i t i c s come t o Typee w i l l i n g t o make al lowances f o r i t s e x p o s i t o r y

content b u t much more concerned w i t h i t s i n t i m a t i o n s o f psycho log ica l o r

moral adventure. Some modern commentary on Typee speculates on the edenic

compl ica t ions o f t h e s t o r y : what a r e the defects i n t h e v a l l e y parad-ise?

Why does Tommo so u r g e n t l y wish t o escape i t s s imp le abundance? Other

commentary takes t h e form o f r e h a b i l i t a t i o n , rescu ing Typee from re1 a t i v e

unimportance i n t h e M e l v i l l e canon by c l a i m i n g t h a t i t has a completeness

and s t a t u r e beyond i t s va lue t o scho lars as a semi-autobiographical document.

Paul 9 h i t h e r i n g t o n ' s a r t i c l e on ,"The A r t o f M e l v i l l e t s Typee," f o r example, , I

s ta tes t h a t Typee i s n o t " o n l y t r a v e l literature," . b u t a nove l , M e l v i l l e ,

Xhi t h e r i n g t o n main ta ins , knew what he was do ing when he wro te Typee:

" f t can be shown t h a t - / ' M e l l v i l l e ' s - 7 use o f m a t e r i a l s i n Typee i s t h a t o f

a n o v e l i s t q u i t e o f t e n i n f u l l c o n t r o l o f h i s m a t e r i a l s and a lmost always

conscious o f the^!$"^ Whi t h e r i n g t o n ' s observa t ions on the t e x t proceed from

two premises: f i r s t , t h a t the novel form -- even i n i t s i n c i p i e n t stages --

i s a e s t h e t i c a l l y more va luab le thdn the t r a v e l form -- even i n i t s mature

form -- and, second, t h a t c o n t r o l and consciousness o f m a t e r i a l s i s n o v e l i s t i c , *

arid beyond the scant p rov ince o f t he mere w r i t e r o f t r a v e l s . An e a r l i e r

a r t i c l e , " M e l v i l l e ' s Use o f I n t e r p o l a t i o n s ," by Joan J a f f e H a l l , develops

from s i m i l a r assumptions, a1 though H a l l c r e d f t s M e l v i l l e w i t h l e s s c o n t r o l

ove r h i s a r t : "The p l o t o f Typee, which i s a f l i m s y handle f o r the baggage

o f t h e t rave logue, i s punctuated by l o n g and t i resome essays on t h e a ~ t h r o -

pology, soc io logy and h i s t o r y o f t h e Marquesas ( o r perhaps i t would be more

accu ra te t o say t h a t those essays a r e punctuated by a p l o t ) . . . . "3 I n H a l l ' s

view, t h e " t r a v e l ogueu4 c o n t r i b u t e s o n l y " t ime-Pi 11 e r s " which obscure and

encumber the p l o t . She f i n d s , however, thaZ i n M e l v i l l e ' s l a t e r w r i t i n g -- i n h b y - D i c k , espec ia l 1 y -- " i n t e r p o l a t i o n s " a re a t t r a c t i v e and e f f e c t i v e

because they e x p l i c a t e the p l o t and can be read f o r t h e i r f i g u r a t i v e o r

themat ic s ign i f i cance . C l e a r l y , t he e x p o s i t o r y s e c t i o n s o f Typee bore H a l l ,

and many o t h e r t w e n t i e t h cen tu ry c r i t i c s . The i r impat ience w i t h f a c t u a l

expos i t i on , and t h e i r eagerness t o dec la re i t p e r i p h e r a l "baggage" a r e due

t o i t s r e s i s t a n c e t o hermeneutics. Not much can be done w i t h t h e con ten t o f 9

t he t r a v e l e x p o s i t i o n i n Typee, beyond research ing t h e secondary sources from "2

which M e l v i l l e d e r i v e d h i s data and some o f h i s d e s c r i p t i o n s , But, a t some

p o i n t , t h e t r a v e l e x p o s i t i o n must be accounted for f o rma l l y : i t i s p l a i n l y

h u h more than a n o v e l i s t i c s e t t i n g for a c t i o n , and much more than a d i s -

p r o p o r t i o n a t e l y d e t a i l e d a t tempt a t r e a l ism, I t s p lace i n t h e design o f t h e

t e x t i s prominent and even commanding, and M e l v l l l e in tended t h a t i t should be

S O .

U n t i l r e c e n t l y , a commonplace' about Typee has been t h a t Me1 v i l l e

i n s e r t e d some o f t h e most conspicuous ' ' t ravelogue" segments o f t he n a r r a t i v e

. i n response t o h i s London pub l ' i she r ' s recommendation. But Hershel Parker I s

a r t i c l e on "Evidences f o r La te I n s e r t i o n s ' i n Me1 v i l l e ' s Works" demonstrates

t h a t Murray, t h e London publ i s h e r , accepted Typee w j t h o u t a d d i t i o n s and t h a t

M e l v i l l e had a l ready begun t h e a m p l i f i c a t i o n s o f t h e t e x t when h i s b r o t h e r

Ganesvoort took the r e s t o f t h e manuscr ip t t o London: "On t h e whole, t h e

115 nature o f t h e a d d i t i o n s suggest t h a t they were n o t c a l l e d f o r by Murray. - 6 The i n s e r t i o n s i n ques t i on a r e c h i e f l y from t h e secondary sources Charles R.

Anderson enumerated i n M e l v i l l e i n t he South seas ,7 and Parker 's r

i n t o the provenance o f t h e t e x t show t h a t M e l v i l l e took on t h e e x t r a hapters b and sec t i ons t o complete h i s o r i g i n a l p r o j e c t , and n o t s imp ly t o s a t i y t e P PI requi rements o f a publ i s h e r o f t r ue -1 i f e t r a v e l s t o r i e s . K e l v i l l e -wa/ /I making a t r a v e l book, and t h a t i s what Typee i s ,

,

Anderson's M e l v i l l e i n t h e South Seas has been a v a i l a b l e t o ~ e l v i l l e

scho lars f o r many years. I t shows t h a t borrowings from o t h e r Polynesian

t r a v e l books comprise s u b s t a n t i a l p a r t s o f Typee and, i n t h i s , Anderson I s

scho la rsh ip may have encouraged l a t e r commentators on t h e book t o d ismiss

these sec t i ons as o n l y d e r i v a t i v e , o r t o c i t e t h e i r presence as evidence

o f t h e i m n a t u r i t y o f M e l v i l l e ' s a r t . 8 A f te r a l l , t h e c r i t i c i s up aga ins t

some d i f f i c u l t p rob l ems when he appl i es h e r w n e u t i c methods t o passages

transposed from o t h e r t e x t s and o n l y r u d e l y modi f ied t o new i n t e n t i o n s . But

the borrowing i t s e l f i s a l i t e r a r y a c t i v i t y , and t h e r e f o r e impor tan t t o the

making o f t he t e x t , and the borrowed passages a r e fundamental comp en ts o f T t h e n a r r a t i v e s t r u c t u r e . They ,are e s s e n t i a l t o Typee's formal , gener ic

purpose, and w i t h o u t them t h e t e x t would have another meaning. Compi lat ion--

S

327

which can e n t a i l any th ing f rom t h e shameless borrowings i n Jonathan Carver 's

appendices t o Samuel Hearne's sys temat ic consul t a t i o n o f Pennant ' s A r c t i c

Zoology t o Thoreau's r e v e r e n t c i t a t i o n s from e a r l y t - r a v e l l e r s -- i s p a r t o f

t r a v e l w r i t i n g .

Me1 v i 1 l e i s r e s o r t t o t h e s t r u c t u r a l conventions of t h e t r a v e l genre was

f i t t i n g under t h e circumstances: he had passed a l o n g p e r i o d i n a p a r t of t he

w o r l d s t i l l unfrequented by t h e o r d i n a r y t o u r i s t and s t i l l o n l y p a r t i a l l y

documented by voyage l i t e r a t u r e . The n o v e l t y o f h i s exper ience and the remote-

ness o f i t s s e t t i n g d i c t a t e d the design o f i t s l i t e r a r y p resen ta t i on . And

beyond i t s c i rcumstant i a1 appropr iateness , t h e t r a v e l genre prov ided Me1 v i 11 e

w i t h an es tab l i shed n a r r a t i v e form w i t h i n which t o convey the severa l phases o f

the t r a v e l l e r ' s v i s i o n - - h i s s igh tsee ing, h i s i n f d r m a t i v e and specu la t i ve over- B

view o f a remote c u l t u r e , and h i s imag ina t i ve and psycho log ica l r e p l y t o the idea

of an e x o t i c journey.

The f i r s t chapter o f Typee in t roduces a1 1 these elements i n a way t h a t

i l l u s t r a t e s the i n t r i c a c y o f % h e i r r e l a t i o n s h i p t o one another. The f i r s t

element i n t roduced i s the dramat ic content o f journey ing i t s e l f :

S i x months a t sea! Yes, reader, as I l i v e , s i x months o u t o f s i g h t o f land; c r u s i n g a f t e r t he sperm-whale beneath t h e sco rch ing sun o f t h e L ine, and tossed on b i l l o w s o f t h e ' w i d e - r o l l i n g P a c i f i c -- the sky above, the sea around, and no th ing e lse!g

These f i r s t v o c i f e r a t i o n s express t h e t r a v e l l e r ' s dramat ic a t t i t u d e : h i s

expos tu la to ry impat ience under t h e extrerni t y o f t h i s f o r e i g n exphr ience and

i t s un re l i eved regime, and h i s d e s i r e t o s e t a new course. From these a t t i t u d e s

-- a l l d i r e c t l y r e l a t e d t o t h e p e c u l i a r human s i t u a t i o n o f t r a v e l -- comes

Typee's s t o r y , w i t h i t s p l o t t e d e labora t i ons on M e l v i l l e ' s own adventure.

A p o s s i b l e r e s o l u t i o n t o the t r a v e l l e r ' s c r i s i s appears n e x t i n the form

o f a foreseen d e s t i n a t i o n : " 'Hurrah, my lads ! I t ' s a s e t t l e d th ing ;

n e x t week we shape our course t o the Marquesas! ' " (p. 5 ) . B u t sca rce ly i s

t h i s exci tement voiced when t h e n a r r a t i v e s h i f t s t o another mood, e x p l a i n i n g

the " i n t e r e s t i n g V circumstances under which t h k i s l a n d s were f i r s t d iscovered

by European navi gators, and p r o v i d i n g b i b l i o g r a w i c a l data on 1 i t e r a t u r e .

r e l a t i n g t o the Marquesas : " O f t h i s i n t e r e s t i n g group b u t l i t t l e account has

ever been g i i p n , i f we except t he s l i g h t mention made o f them i n t h e sketches

o f South Sea voyages" (pp. 5 - 6 ) . O f t h e u s l i g h t " references, M e l v i l l e takes

due n o t i c e , suggest ing h i s own a u t h o r i a l indebtedness t o gome o f these

volumes. N G e r t h e anxious s a i i o r , i m p a t i e n t o f i n d e f i n i t e terms and

uncomfor table c o n d i t i o n s , t he n a r r a t o r becomes the s tud ious , in fo rmed* t o u r i s t .

H is address t o t h e reader changes w i t h the s h i f t i n mood, appea l ing t o an

i n t e r e s t i n documented e x o t i c a where i t fo rmer l y s o l i c i t e d sympathy f o r t h e . ,

adventurer i n h i s predicament. And M e l v i l l e then in t roduces a t h i r d

comp l i ca t i on t o n a r r a t i v e p o i n t o f v iew, i n t h i s case t o e x p a t i a t e on t h e

m iss iona ry presence i n t h e i s l a n d s : i n e l a b o r a t i n g on some secondhand

%fo rma t ion he descr ibes an event he w i tnesse&,personal- ly i n t he Marquesas,

"between two and t h r e e years a f t e r t he adventures recorded i n t h i s volume"

( p . 7). With t h i s d i g r e s s i o n he n o t o n l y s t re t ches n a r r a t i v e s t ruc tu - re and

o rgan iza t i on , b u t a l s o mater ia l I ; / a f f e c t s the dramat ic premise o f t he f i r s t

paragraph o f the chapter . The tens ion t h e r e i n -- and throughout t h e book -- depends on t h e suspended r e s o l u t i o n o f the n a r r a t o r ' s d i ~ c o n t e n t and a n x i e t y .

Here, t h i s adve rb ia l phrase r e f e r r i n g t o a pos t - journey '%c\od removes t h e i

underpinnings o f t h a t suspense n o t o n l y by. a f f i r m i n g the t r a v e l 1 e r ' s s u r v i v a l

b u t a l s o by h i n t i n g a t some o f t h e c o n d i t i o n s o f h i s s u r v i v a l . The

adventure s t o r y i n M e l v i l l e ' s South Seas account must c o e x i s t w i t h t h e

d ig ress i ve , d i s c u r s i v e tendencies of t r a v e l w r i t i n g . As we see even i n t h i s

f i r s t chapter , t he r e s u l t i s an impingement on n o v e l i s t i c lotting by the

o b l i g a t i o n s o f t he t r a v e l w r i t e r t o convey whole i n fo rma t ion a s s o c i a t i v e l y ,

and t o w i t h h o l d no p a r t i c l e o f r e l e v a n t m a t e r i a l .

As t h e discourse proceeds, t h i s p a t t e r n of a1 t e r n a t i n g mood develops. L

Often, t h e r e i s no l o g i c a l connect ion between a c t i v e and e x p o s i t o r y ,

segments beyond t h e o v e r t l y s t a t e d need t o s u s t a i n two n a r r a t i v e systems

s imul taneous ly . As we havg seen i n o t h e r n a r r a t i v e s o f t r a v e l , a u t h o r i a l

i n t e r v e n t i o n , e s p e c i a l l y f o i n t r o d u c e excursus o r t o a l e r t t h e reader t o

t h e d i r e c t i o n o f a d i g r e s s i o n , i s a charac- jer is t ic device, p e r m i t t i n g wide

rang ing n a r r a t i v e focus i n t h e i n t e r e s t s o f c r e a t i n g as comprehensive a

r e p r e s e n t a t i o n as p o s s i b l e . The t r a v e l w r i t e r does n o t r i s k incoherence

- w i t h h i s d iscurs iveness , f o r h i s n a r r a t i v e sequence -- t h a t o f t ra 'vel --

i s m a n i f e s t and u n i f y i n g , and M e l v i l l e ' s prose a r t i s n e i t h e r agkward

nor imper fec t i n t he way i t o v e r t l y yokes i t s 1 i nea r , temporal n a r r a t i v e

w i t h l a r g e expos i to ry u n i t s .

Even when t h e n a r r a t o r and h i s compani,on. have escaped from the s h i p and

- a r e embroi led i n arduous ' topographical compl i c a t i o n s , t h e f u g i t i v e ' s

sensat ions o f ordeal and despera t ion subside, and drop f rom t h e n a r r a t i v e

t o make way for scenic e x p o s i t i o n t y p i c a l o f t o u r i s t memoirs. Having

a t t a i n e d a d i f f i c u l t summit a f t e r t h e f i r s t day 's f l i g h t , t he n a r r a t o r l ooks

back over t h e accompl i shed route wi t h detached composure : "The 1 one1 y bay

o f Nukuheva, d o t t e d here and t h e r e w i t h the b lack h u l l s o f t h e vesse ls

composing t h e French squadron, l a y repos ing a t t h e base o f a c i r c u l a r range ",

of e leva t i ons , whose verdant s ides , per fo ra ted w i t h deep g lens o r d i v e r s i f i e d

w i t h srnil i n g v a l l e y s , formed a1 toge the r t he love1 l e s t v iew I ever beheld,

and were I t o l i v e a hundred years; I should never f o r g e p M P e e I i n g o f

admi ra t i on which I then experienced1' [p. 40) . The l e i s u r e l y r e c a l l o f h i s I

u n f o r g e t t a b l e " feej i n g o f admi ra t ion ' ' as w e l l as the whole p l q q i d cha rac te r

o f t h e pas to ra l p rospect -- " s m i l i n g v a l l e y s ' ' and "deep g lens" su twe lgh ing

t h e "b l ack h u l l s " o f t h e naval presence -- reduces t h e ex igency o f t h e

f u g i t i v e s ' p l i g h t , en1 i s t i n g them, t h rough conven t i ona l d i c t i o n and a e s t h e t i c ,

i n t h e t o u r i s t t r a d i t i o n . Even up t o t h e p e n u l t i m a t e i t a g e o f h i s so jo&

i n t h e v a l l e y , when t h e c r i s i s o f h i s c a p t i v i t y looms huge ly , t h e n a r r a t o r

invokes t h i s gentee l d e s c r i p t i v e a t t i t u d e i n an u n h u r r i e d way t h a t unde rcu t s

t he urgency o f h i s s i t u a t i o n . A t t h e beg inn ing o f Chapter X X X T , where in he

t r e a t s t h e cosmet ic p r a c t i c e s and music , and o t h e r r e c r e a t i o n s o f t h e Typees,

he w r i t e s : "Sad ly d i s c u r s i v e as I have a l r e a d y been, I must s t i l l f u r t h e r

e n t r e a t t h e r e a d e r ' s pa t i ence , as I am about t o s t r i n g t o g e t h e r , w i t h o u t

any a t t e m p t a t o rde r , a few odds and ends o f t h i n g s n o t h i t h e r t o ment ioned,

b u t which a r e e i t h e r c u r i o u s i n themselves o r p e c u l i a r t o t h e ,Typees"

(p . 226) . H i s apo logy t o t he reade r r e f l e c t s some awareness o f t h e d e l a y

i n d i s c l o s i n g t h e c a p t i v e h e r o ' s f a t e and o f hav ing compromised t h e n a r r a t i v e

s t r u c t u r e e n t a i l e d i n T o n o ' s n o v e l i s t i c a l l y p l o t t e d adven tu re . However,

t h e convent ions o f t r a v e l n a r r a t i v e p r e v a i l ove r novel i s t i c p r a c t i c e s , and

M e l v i l l e makes t h i s o v e r t s t r u c t u r a l s ta tement i n o r d e r t o i n c o r p o r a t e i n t o

t he t e x t as much d e s c r i p t i v e i n f o r m a t i o n as p o s s i b l e . The i n c l u s i o n o f

these "odds and ends" i s p a r t o f M e l v i l l e ' s obeisance t o t h e t r a v e l t r a d i t i o n

which measures t h e s t a t u r e o f a document by t h e q u a n t i t y o f novel and

i n s t r u c t i v e da ta o r g a n i z e d by t h e t r a v e l l e r . These agg rega t i ons o f d e t a i l

t h r o n g t h e l a t e r s e c t i o n s o f Typee and, i n e f f ec t , e x p o s i t o r y summary and

escape p lans share t h e c l i m a x o f t h e n a r r a t i v e .

There i s a p o i n t a t which t h e two d i s t i n c t n a r r a t i v e systems -- t h e

d e s c r i p t i v e and t h e a c t i v e -- merge, and t h a t i s i n t h e more A speculaE3ve * rende r i ngs o f t h e Typee v a l l ey, W e n t h e n a r r a t o r f i r s t comes upon t h i s

remote eden , scen ic d e s c r i p t i o n e s c a l a t e s t o an i n t e n s i t y s imul taneous l y

contempla t ive and dramat ic . But f i r s t t he panoramic prospect i s es tab l ished:

From the spot where L l a y t r a n s f i x e d w i t h s u r p r i s e and d e l i g h t , I looked s t r a i g h t down i n t o the bosom o f a v a l l e y , which swept away i n l o n g wavy -

undu la t i ons t o t h e b lue waters i n t he d is tance. Midway towards the sea, and pee r ing here and t h e r e amidst t h e f o l i a g e , m i g h t be seen the pa lmet to - tha tched houses of i t s i n h a b i t a n t s g l i s t e n i n g i n the sun t h a t had bleached them t o a d a z z l i n g whiteness. The v a l e was more than t h r e e leagues i n l e n g t h , and about a m i l e a c m s s a t i t s g r e a t e s t w i d t h ( P * 49).

,

Up t o t h i s p o i n t , t he v iew i s convent iona l enough t h a t t h e beho lde r ' s a l l e g e d

" s u r p r i s e and de1 i gh t " a re o n l y r h e t o r i c a l embell ishemnts on a t y p i c a l scenic

d e s c r i p t i o n and convey 1 i t t l e dramat ic i n f o r m a t i o n . To "wavy undu la t i ons ,'.'

"b lue waters," and " d a z z l i n g whiteness" a r e added f u r t h e r d e t a i l s on , the

lJ u n i n t e r r u p t e d verdure o f t h e scene and t h e w a t e r f a l l s which adorn it. The :

s i g h t i s rendered o n l y i n d e s c r i p t i v e terms which arrange t h e elements o f

i t s p ic turesqueness. Then the 1 i m i t s o f t h i s n a r r a t i v e t rea tment a r e

gradual 1 y borached, as scenery i t s e l f begins t o imp1 c i a t e t h e spec ta to r

by suggest ing h i s pending adventure:

Over a l l t h e landscape the re re igned the most hushed repose, which I almost feared t o break l e s t , 1 i ke the enchanted gardens i n t h e f a i r y t a l e , a s i n g l e s y l l a b l e m igh t d i s s o l v e the s p e l l . For a l o n g t ime, f o r g e t f u l a l i k e o f my own s i t u a t i o n , and t h e v i c i n i t y o f my s t i l l s lumber ing companion, I remained gaz ing around me, h a r d l y a b l e t o comprehend by what means I had thus suddenly been made a spec ta to r o f such a scene (p. 49) .

The f u g i t i v e , as he comes upon t h e "enchanted" v a l l e y , a l s o comes upon an

a r r e s t i n g r e c o g n i t i o n o f h i s profound t r a n s p o r t a t i o n . He has t r a v e l 1 ed so

exceed ing ly f a r as t o have a r r i v e d a t another wor ld, and he d i v i n e s some

ra re , impending q u a l i t y i n t h e s i g h t -- I t s " f a i r y t a le i ' p r o p e r t i e s , i t s

18 imposing " s p e l l ," and f t s consummate ~ t h e r ~ w o r l d l i n e s s and foreignness.

To d i scove r and enter t h i s scene -- n o t j u s t s p e c t a t o r i a l l y bu t a c t i y e l y ,

t h rough an u n f o l d i n g t a l e -- i s t o e n t e r another phase o f ex is tence. Here,

the t r a v e l i d iom i s t r u l y f e l t : the suggest iveness o f p ic tu resque '

332

landscape i s always v e r y impor tan t t o the s igh tsee r , and now M e l y i l l e takes

up the suggest ion and executes i t s imp1 i c a t i o n s by re1 eas ing t h e n a r r a t o r

form h i s detached tou r i sm and i n t r o d u c i n g h i i i n t o the scene.

; Once i n the v a l l e y , o f course, t he g r e a t ques t ion i s how t o ge t o u t .

Modern commentators on Typee have s t r i v e n t o e x p l a i n Tomno's d e s i r e t o q u i t

paradise, v a r i o u s l y f i n d i n g t h a t eden and western man a r e incompat i b l e, - o r t h a t i ypee i s a sha l l ow and flawed u top ia , o r t h a t Tommo i s t oo imper fec t

h imsel f t o r e s t i n a pe r fec t h a b i t a t . But we need go no f u t h e r than t h e

occasion . o f the t r a v e l genre i t s e l f t o r a t i o n a l i z e Tommo's d e s i r e t o ge t o u t

o f t h i s p lace. There i s no quest i n a t r a v e l w r i t i n g : Typee i s n o t a goal,

bu t ' o n l y a stage i n a r o u n d - t r i p , a temporary l o c a t i o n through which t h e

t r a v e l l e r passes. H is d e s t i n a t i o n i s h i s o r i g i n a l p o i n t o f depar tu re -- . America -- and t h e escape from t h i s f a i r y - t a l e enchantment i s t h e necessary

r e t u r n t o a normal, r e a l i s t i c t r a v e l i t i n e r a r y w i t h i t s proper assurances o f

departures and a r r i v a l s , embarkations and homecomings . S tay ing i n Typee

would f a t a l l y i n t e r r u p t t h e sequence o f t r a v e l , l e a v i n g t h e journey forever

incomplete and t h e t r a v e l l e r stranded. The f i r s t chapters s e t o u t t he

imp1 i c a t i o n s o f t h i s e v e n t u a l i t y tly p ropos ing the unnerv ing idea o f t h e

i n te rm inab le voyage and t h e s t range n ightmare o f be ing p e r p e t u a l l y abroad

on an i n d e f i n i t e , i n c o n c l u s i v e journey w i t h no d e s t i n a t i o n i n s i g h t . I n

Chapter I 1 1 M e l v i l l e descr ibes t h e n o t o r i o u s l y 1 engthy voyages o f New England

whalers, which c l a i m whole epochs o f a s a i l o r ' s 1 i r e , and he recounts w i t h

awe and h o r r o r t h e e x t e n t o f one apoc rypha l l y prolonged voyage. The

absence o f t h i s s h i p was o f such d u r a t i o n as t o have her g i ven up fo r l o s t :

" A f t e r a l o n g i n t e r v a l , however, The Perseverance -- fo r t h a t was her name -- 1

was spoken somewhere i n t h e v i c i n i t y o f t h e ends o f t h e ea r th , c r u t s l n g a l o n g

as l e i s u r e l y as ever , her s a i l s a l l bepatched and b e q u i l t e d w i t h rope yarns,

her spars f ished w i t h o l d p ipe s to res , and her r i g g i n g kno t ted and s p l i c e d

i n every possi b ( p . 22) . The h u l l o f t h i s overdue vessel i s 'Oi.

e n t i r e l y ' c rus ted w i t h barnacles , and esco r ted by populous shoals o f f i s h ,

as i f she had f o r e v e r renounced her t e r r e s t r i a l o r i g i n s and taken up a

compl e t e l y aqua t i c i d e n t i t y , Her r e t u r n i s s t i 11 unreported, he r voyage

e t e r n a l l y incomplete. "Such ,I1 w r i t e s Me1 v i l l e, "was t h e account I heard

of t h i s vessel , and t h e remembrance o f i t always haunted me; what e v e n t u a l l y

became o f hef I never 1 earned ; a t any r a t e she never reached home, and I ?A

suppose she i s s t i l l r e g u l a r l y t a c k i n g t w i c e i n t he twenty- four hours

somewhere o f f Buggerry I s 1 and o r t h e Dev i l I s T a i l Peak" (p. 23 ) .

The s a i l o r i s a he lp less v i c t i m under t h i s regime of endless voyaging;

a l l power i s a l l o t t e d t o the c a p t a i n bent on long- te rm sea- fa r ing . I n t h e

micro-cosmic s o c i e t y o f t he s h i p a t sea, subo rd ina t i on becomes d e t e n t i o n once

the d u r a t i o n o f the journey passes the normal expec ta t i ons o f seemly, sa fe

t r a v e l . S i m i l a r l y , i n Typee, t h e wanderer' i s d i sen f ranch ised i n t h e 1 i t t l e

v a l l e y pol i t y . The p r o l o n g a t i o n o f h i s absence and the i n d e f i n i t e suspension

. - o f h i s onward o r homeward t r a v e l s become imprisonment; t he resumption of h i s 1

r o u t e becomes escape and autonomy. =--.

~ h i s ' y n d e f i n i t e s o j o u r n i n g i n a fo re ign p lace i s a t i c k 1 i s h business,

c a l l i n g f o r t a c t f u l s o c i a l s t r a t e g i e s . Samuel :Hearne, a lone i n a n a t i v e

community, had c o n s t a n t l y t o n e g o t i a t e compromise3 between h i s own m iss ion

, and the w i l l o f Matonabbee i n o r d e r t o accomplish h i s safe e s s a g e across

t h e A r c t i c . S i m i l a r l y , Tommo must i n g r a t i a t e himsel f w i t h t h e Typees, acqu i re

the goodw i l l o f t h e i r leaders , and I n some degree conform t o t h e i r standards

and p r a c t i c e s . But t o be t o o comple te ly a s s i m i l a t e d i n t o Typee s o c l e t y i s t o

re1 i n q u i s h h i s s ta tus as a t r a v e l l e r , t o sur render h i s i d e n t i t y , and, 1 i ke

The Perseverance, t o renounce h i s a n t i c i p a t e d d e s t i n a t i o n when he renounces

h i s o r i g i n s . L i k e A1 exander Henry, who found himsel f becoming g r a d u a l l y

accostomed t o l i f e w i t h t h e Chippewas, Tonuno becomes f a m i l i a r i z e d w i t h and

drawn i n t o Typee l i f e . But Henry reserved a margin o f detachment which

reminded h im t h a t he had been "o therwise" and t h a t he cou ld hope f o r re lease,

and Tomno, too, hovers between acquiescent abso rp t i on i n t o the Typee community

and u n f o r g e t t i n g awareness o f h i s a l i e n s t a t u s . Several t imes he i s " n e a r l y

unmanned" when evidence accumulates as t o t h e permanence o f h i s s t a y -- i

t e s t i f y i n g t h a t i t i s no l o n g e r a so jou rn a t a l l b u t an immutable res idence,

and t h a t t h e e r s t w h i l e so jou rne r i s no l o n g e r an American s a i l o r b u t a

denizen o f the v a l l e y . The Typee custom o f t a t o o i n g i s a p a r t i c u l a r l y

menacing issue, suggest ing a remaking o r r e v i s i o n o f h i s person t o conform

t o the assurnptlons o f t h i s f o r e i g n c u l t u r e . rl

From the t ime o f my casual encounter w i t h Karky t h e L t a t o o 7 a r t i s t my l i f e was one o f qbso lu te wretchedness. Not a day passed-but I was persecuted by the s o l i c i t a t i o n s o f some o f t h e n a t i v e s t o s u b j e c t mysel f t o the od ious o p e r a t i o n o f t a t o o i ng. The i r i m p o r t u n i t i e s drove me ha1 f w i l d , f o r I f e l t how e a s i l y they m igh t work t h e i r w i l l upon me rega rd ing t h i s o r any th ing e l s e w h i c h they took i n t o t h e i r heads (p. 231).

- The importunate t a t o o i s t arouses i n t h e so jou rne r n o t j u s t t h e f e a r o f

defacement bu t t he h o r r o r o f complete abso rp t i on i n t o the fo re ign m i l i e u ,

t h e a t tendan t l o s s o f w i l l and i d e n t i t y , and, most impor tan t , t he abandonment

o f hope f o r r e t u r n t o America.

Once h i s companion, Toby, has f l e d , t h e c a p t i v e fee l s h i s a l i e n s t a t u s

a1 1 the n o r e i n t e n s e l y , and when h i s at tempts t o communicate w i t h ffarnoo ( t h e >

revered wanderer who v i s i t s a1 1 Nukuheva v i l 1 bges free1 y , under the p r o t e c t i o n

o f a safe-conduct taboo) a re f r u s t r a t e d , h i s a n x i e t y and d e j e c t i o n become

acute:

Where, thought 1 desponding, i s there the s l i g h t e s t prospect of escape? The only person who seemed to possess the a b i l i t y to a s s i s t me was the stranger Marnoo; b u t would he ever return to the val ley? And i f he did, should I be permitted t o hold any communication w i t h him? I t seemed as i f I were cu t of f from every source of hope, and t h a t nothing re- mained but passively to await whatever f a t e was i n s to re for me (pp. 238-39).

Marnoo i s important t o Tornrno because he i s a possible instrument of escape

and, beyond any Typee, a n inter locutor to whom Tommo can unreservedly express

his rest lessness and apprehension, and explain his awareness of his strange

p-cament. In conversation with Marnoo, Tornmo can r e fe r to the larger

world outside the val ley and Marnoo's responses confirm the existence o f t h i s

outer realm which i s beyond the " fa i ry t a l e enchantment" of Typee and where

T o m ' s destination i s real and accessible. His exchanges with Marnoo serve

a purpose comparable to tha t served for Frances Trol lope by the "ful l flow

of conversation" with the German woman a t Philadelphia. And Daniel Harmon,

too, sequestered in a remote wilderness, longed for conversation with

sympathetic inter locutors whose ta lk could encourage h i m in his struggle

against cul tural d isor ien ta t ion . When talk with Marnoo i s cur ta i led , Tommo's

geographical is01 ation and soci a1 a1 ienation are strongly figured to h i m .

He i s l e f t passively incomnunicado, without any foreseeable conduit to the

outer world: "when I thought of the loved friends who were thousands and

thousands of miles from the savage island in which I was held a captive, when

I ref1 ected tha t my dreadful f a t e would forever be concealed from them,

-and tha t with hope deferred they might continue t o await my return long

a f t e r my inan imte f o r m had blended w i t h the dust of the val ley -- 1 could

n o t repress a shudder o f anguish" ( p . 2431, Inextricably associated with the

f ea r o'f personal extinction i s the dread of not being able to r e l a t e his s tory

t o the "loved f r i ends , " t o the audience tha t awaits news of the t r a v e l l e r ' s

whereabouts a n d re turn. I t i s not only the suppression of his appeal for

rescue tha t f rus t r a t e s and depresses the captive, b u t a l so the idea' of his

own disappearance i n t o a soundless void, from which no messages can be

transmitted. From such s i l ence and irrevocable is01 ation can emerge no

t r a v e l l e r ' s t a l e of adventure and romance, and no narrat ive destiny completing

the journey sequence. The received s tory resul t ing from the eventual i ty of

Tomm's worst fears would be only a t ragic fragment -- the voyager s e t t i n g out , from home, and disappearing into an unspoken emptiness -- and not the

conclusive narrative which the returned t r ave l l e r car r ies with him to a

waiting audience. On the verge of being assimilated soc ia l ly by t h i s obscure

paradise, and anxiously considering the poss ib i l i ty of being physically

consumed by these putative cannibals, the stranded voyager contemplates his .

imnobif i t y as a token o f death

A survival t a c t i c , aside from tenta t ive escape plans, which a l l ev ia t e s

the travel1 e r ' s dread of s t a s i s i s his tou r i s t a c t i v i t y . Through the whole 0

central body of the t e x t , which t r e a t s Melville 's residence i n the Typee

valley, the two narrat ive systems - - the act ive and the expository -- a1 ternate

t o mediate the tension between the fateful forces which indefini t e ly prolong

the adventurer 's residence and the hopeful sightseeing and informatian-

gathering which ant ic ipa te a normal resumption of journeying. This

bifurcation i s not a s t ructural weakness in the book, b u t a formal l i t e r a r y

i x ~ r e s s i o n of i r e lv i l l e t s vision of the t r ave l l e r l s jdes t iny .

En the t e x t , factual exposition Ss a functional appurtenance of the

travel 1 er ' r situ3tio.?. i t i s t h e n a r r a t i v e product of Tomma's del ibera te ,

2ven urgent i n t e r e s t in Typee r i t e s and pract ices . By keeping u p t h i s

invest igat ive tourism and objective obse~va't ion, the sojourner assures v,

hinsel P of t he cul tu ra l d i s t i n c t i q ~ between himsel f and Typee soc ie ty ;

t h i s d i s t i n c t i o n portends h i s eventual physical separa t ion from Typee

soc ie ty through t he des i red completion of h is journey. A t t he same time, the

accumulation of information presumes t h a t eventual ly the na r r a to r wi l l enjoy

the oppor tuni ty t o cormnunicate i t to an i n t e r e s t ed audience -- a t home.

Insofar as t he hope o f depar ture from Typee and re tu rn t o America i s c e n t r a l ,

the exposi tory material t h a t supports the na r ra to r in h i s t r a v e l l e r ' s r o l e

i s not peripheral b u t func t iona l ly e s s en t i a l .

As Anderson's Re lv i l l e i n t h e South Seas shows, with i t s exhaustive

research of the l i t e r a r y inf luences and borrowings i n Typee, a subs tan t ia l

pa r t of t h i s expository information i s the product not of d i r e c t experience,

b u t of Pel v i 11 e ' s pos t-Typee researches . Except f o r infrequent b i bl iographical

references , a1 most a1 1 secondhand material i s introduced i n t o the nar ra t ive

as f i r s t hand observat ion, with an a r t f u lne s s t h a t places t h i s material a t the d

sane 1 eve1 of 1 i t e r a r y a c t i v i t y as the inventive e labora t ions o f Melv i l l e ' s

personal , ac t i ve adventures on Nukuheva . In consul t i n g secondary sources,

and i n introducing secondhand information as pa r t o f a purportedly f i r s thand

na r r a t i on , Me1 vi 11 e made a cal cul a ted move towards cons t ruc t ing a pa r t i cu l a r

4 i r l c i 3 C l i t e r a r y document, the conventions o f which would be f ami l i a r and

s i g n i f i c a n t t o h is audience,

' I n Typee, where t he voyager s k i r t s the verge o f being ass imi la ted and \

o b l i t e r a t e d by the remoteness and foreignness o f his ventur ing, t ravel i s an -

5xis tentSal r i sk - tak ing , a n d survival -- through homeward t rave l -- i s a

j , h s % n t i a l t op i c . B u t s u r v i v a l i s a s u b j e c t a r t i c u l a t e d not j u s t by the

an,v~c' , ;re s t o r y o f c a p t l v i t j and escape, I t i s expressed formally as wel l ,

Lnrri,gh tk m o d a l p r o p e r t i e s o f t h e t e x t , As a speaker i n the t ravel wr i t ing d,

338

mode, the narrator has an assurance of survival -- even of longevity -- which the narrator as a hero of adventure cannot command, In the f i r s t place,

the acquisit ion of information pre$umes the opportunity to express i t -- t h a t

i s , presumes homecoming. In the second place, the omniscience and composure

of the returned travel l e r ' s comprehensive, informative remarks re1 ieve peril

a n d danger of the i r suspenseful qua1 i t i e s . Thus the formali t ies o f the

travel wr i t e r ' s verbal mode themselves s ignify the outcome of the travel 1 e r ' s

experience. Whatever the dangers may have been along the way, the t r ave l l e r

i s home now. This message i s conveyed a t every point where the narrat ive

assumes an expository s t ruc ture ; i t i s conveyed even in the f i r s t chapter.

In Typee, there a re occasions on which expository omniscience and

drama t i c suspense co-operate to s t r ik ing ef fec t . The incidence of cannibal ism

among the Typees i s such an occasion. ' I t i s an issue which i s ear ly

introduced into the narrat ive and which soon ripens into a premise of intense

dramatic value. What in t e res t s us here i s Melvill e ' s diverse narrat ive

treatment o f the matter. I t i s h i s o f f i ce , as a travel wr i te r , t o remark

exotic phenomena and to neglect no instance of t i t i l l a t i n g novelty which

would stimulate his reader 's cur ios i ty ; a t the same time, the travel wri ter

will promote accuracy and disabuse his audience of sensa t ional i s t misinfor-

m a t i o n . These two obligations a r e adequately discharged by the tex t , which

authenticates reports of anthropophagism b u t minimizes the frequency and

extent o f t he practice among the is landers , However, despi te t h i s judicious "

expository consideration, cannibal ism remains a provoking and consequential

issue i n the adventure of the fugi t ive hero, To whatever degree the factual

presence of cannibal ism i s reduced and disarmed through exposition, the

rumour of i t s prevalence and imminence grows rather than diminishes as

the he ro ' s tenure i n t h e v a l l e y i s extended, and as he i n c r e a s i n g l y l ooks

upon h i s c a b t o r s w i t h dread and apprehension. Thus two verba l r e a l i t i e s

e x i s t s imu l taneous ly i n Typee, by v i r t u e o f i t s b i f u rca ted n a r r a t i v e design :

a t one s i d e i s t h e en1 igh tened consciousness o f t h e t r a v e l l e r - n a r r a t o r who

l e a r n s o f t h e 1 i t t l e and i n o f f e n s i v e e x t e n t o f cannibal ism among the

i s l a n d e r s i n general and the Typees i n p a r t i c u l a r , and who impar ts t h i s

i n fo rma t ion t o h i s audience. On the o t h e r s i d e i s t he y o wing c o n v i c t i o n

o f t h e t r a v e l l e r - h e r o t h a t h i s custodians a r e ea te rs o f human f l e s h . The

c o n v i c t i o n c a r r i e s more than t h e o r d i n a r y weight o f western c i v i l i z a t i o n ' s 0

a larm a t t h e anthropophagi te f o r i t a l s o meshes w i t h t h e e s c a l a t i n g themat ic

p a t t e r n o f the adventure n a r r a t i v e : t h e t r a v e l l e r ' s f e a r o f be ing c o n c l u s i v e l y

absorbed i n t o t h i s f o r e i g n p lace. Ta too ing i s a s m a l l e r c i r c u m s t a n t i a l

evidence o f the c r i s i s , w i t h i t s u g l y i n f r i ngemen t on t h e s o j o u r n e r ' s

coporal sovereignty, b u t cann iba l ism i s , o f course, t he g r e a t e r s i g n a l . The

power o f Typee, and o f M e l v i l l e ' s l a t e r t r a v e l w r i t i n g , l i e s . i n t h e co-

ex i s tence o f the two ve rs ions o f t r a v e l i ssues l i ' k e cann iba l ism: one ve rs ion

i n t he i n f o r m a t i o n a l n a r r a t i v e , which accounts f o r heathen pervers ions i n a

l u c i d , r e q l i s t i c way, and the o t h e r ve rs ion i n t he adventure n a r r a t i v e ,

which permi ts t h e dark and f a n t a s t i c a l rumour i t s i n s i n u a t i n g 1 icense.

Omoo: A N a r r a t i v e o f Adventures i n t he South Seas i s s t r u c t u r a l l y

comparable t o Typee. L i k e Typee , Omo formal 1 y e n t e r t a i n s bo th immediate,

f i r s t h a F x p e r i ence and d ig ress i ve , secondhand i n f o r m a t i o n . As i n Typee,

d i s c u r s i v e m a t e r i a l c u t s away t h e tens ions t h a t suspend the n a r r a t o r ' s

d ramat ic s i t u a t i o n by r e f e r r i n g a s s o c i a t i v e l y t o exper iences which post-date'

the c r i s i s and imp1 i c i t l y e x p l a t n the p r o t a g o n i s t ' s s u r v i v a l . 81 so, outcomes

a r e delayed t o accommodate l e n g t h y d e s c r i p t i o n s o f T a h i t i a n s o c l e t y and

a r c h i t e c t u r e , t h e uses o f t h e b r e a d f r u i t t r ee , t h e i nc idence o f e l e p h a n t i t i s

among the na t i ves , and s i m i l a r t o p i c s . And the n a r r a t i v e s i t u a t i o n s i n t h e

two books a r e comparable. Both s t o r i e s ge t under way w i t h the -impatience

o f t he s a i l o r under t e t h r e a t o f endless, f r u i t l e s s voyaging; bo th concern 2 themselves w i t h escape s t r a t e g i e s t h a t r e s u l t i n y e t another impri2onment.

I n v iew o f these s i m i l a r i t i e s , t h e d i f f e r e n c e s between t h e t e x t s a r e

' i n s t r u c t i v e . Omoo i s n e i t h e r l e s s no r more o f a t r a v e l book than Typee,

b u t i t i s in formed by a d i f f e r e n t v i s i o n of t r a v e l experience. I n Typee,

t r a v e l took the n a r r a t o r t o a p lace un th inkab ly remote, and s t r a n d e d h im

the re as an i s o l a t e d a l i e n th rea tened w i t h conc lus i ve abso rp t i on i n t o a

f o r e i g n m i l i e u . I n h o o , t h e foreignness o f Papeete i s much l e s s menacing

than t h a t 'of t he Typee v a l l e y . Even d e t e n t i o n i n Papeete arouses few

a n x i e t i e s i n t he t r a v e l l e r , and he r e s t s i n j a i l amiably, unconcerned and

unapprehensive. I n sho r t , T a h i t i i s a hosp i tab le p lace as Nukuheva i s

no t . On T a h i t i , . t h e t r a v e l l e r s tays -- or goes, as i t t u r n s o u t -- w i t h

impun i ty ; on Nukuheva he l o i t e r s o r depar ts o n l y a t g r e a t r i s k .

I t i s f i n a l l y t h e absence o f urgency and i n t e n s i t y t h a t f u l l y d i s t i n g u i s h e s

Omoo from Typee, and t h a t e f f e c t s a more f l u i d and f l e x i b l e n a r r a t i v e s t r u c t u r e .

The n a r r a t o r o f Omoo can wander d i s c u r s i v e l y through a l l types o f p ic tu resque-

ness, comedy and po1emi.c w i t h o u t e x c f t i n g the tens ions and s t r u c t u r a l f i s s i o n

t h a t occur i n Typpe when the t o u r 1 4' t ' s m e m i r s de lay the r e s o l u t i o n o f t h e

adven tu re r ' s s t o r y . A t Papeete, i m p r i s onment and immobil i t y c r e a t e no

dramat ic c r i s i s , b u t o n l y a n a t u r a l pause i n t he rhythm o f t r a v e l and an

o p p o r t u n i t y fo r repose fu l contempla t ion and d e s c r i p t i o n , 8

I n v e s t i g a t i o n s i n t o the 1 i t e r a l re1 i a b i l i ty o f - Omoo have revea led few

ins tances o f i n v e n t i o n o r even exaggerat ion, and, on the whole, t h e r e seems

t o be l e s s n o v e l i s t i c p l o t t i n g i n Omoo than i n Typee. The d i f fe rence .

between t h e presence and absence o f n o v e l i s t i c n a r r a t i v e can be observed i n

s t r u c t u r a l cond i t i ons which a r i s e from the q u a l i t y of t he f e l t t r a v e l ,

exper ience. I n Typee, where t h e journey c a r r i e s t h e t r a v e l 1 e r t o an unnerv ing

extreme, s t r u c t u r e i s complex, contending w i t h suspense and u n c e r t a i n t y

w i t h i n i n fo rma t i ve omniscience. I n Omoo, where t h e t r a v e l l e r advances w i t h -

a f f a b l e conf idence, where no despondency c h e c k h i s progress, and where h i s

r e t u r n and h i s s u r v i v a l a re never r e a l l y i n doubt, excursus and d ig ress ion .

c r e a t e 1 i t t l e s t r u c t u r a l s t r e s s .

The s t o r y - t e l l i n g t r a v e l 1 e r advances i n an a c u t e l y s p e c t a t o r i a l r o l e .

En te r i ng t h e frame o f t h e p i c t u r e h imsel f i s d i f f i c u l t -- o r dangerous, as

we saw i ~ T y p e e . Even i n Omoo, where the " rove r " makes h i s way w i t h s i n g u l a r

conf idence and wholesome s p i r i t s , he i s a b r u p t l y reminded, i n a s h o r t and

d e c i s i v e chapter, o f t h e estrangement t h a t devloves upon t h e t r a v e l l e r once

he embarks on t h e i l l u s t r a t i v e wor ld . One evening passing a m i s s i o n a r y ' s

house i n T a h i t i t he t r a v e l l e r i s a t t r a c t e d by the agreeable appearance of h. b

a young woman seated on the vera'ndah w i t h her mother. F o r g e t f u l o f h i s crazy,

way fa re r ' s costume, and eager t o i n t r o d u c e himsel f i n t o t h i s appea l i ng

tab ledu, he addresses himsel f t o these women:

i n g l a d i e s , " exclaimed I, a t l e a s t , advancing w inn ing ly ; from t h e sea, l a d i e s .I1 t

who would have thought i t ? The young l a d y one came near fainting. As fo r myself , I r e t r e a t e d

i n double-quick t ime; and s c a r c e l y drew b rea th u n Z i l s a f e l y housed i n the Cal abooza .l O

This i s a s t rand t h a t Redburn p i c k s up f rom - 9 Onao c o n v e r t i n g some o f t h e comedy

o f t he t r a v e l l e r ' s estrangement i n t o a more i l l u m i n a t i n g and o f ten more

ominous a1 i ena t ion .

342

An anonymous (and unsypathetic) Engl i sh reviewer wrote of Redburn, i n

1849: " I t i s ch ief ly descr ipt ive of a voyage to ~ngl.and and.of a short

residence in Liverpool, which appears i n these ppges qui te as strange and

queer a place as any t h a t figures i n Omoo or "I1 A1 though the reviewer

disapproves of t h i s aspect of the i s nevertheless

in te res t ing in tha t i t recognizes the continu ty between Melvi l le 's ear ly i travel writ ing and l a t e r , more novel i s t i c pro uction. Redburn, l i k e Typee and I" Omoo, addresses a travel -reading pub1 i c and i\ts meaning dGives from Eel v i l l e ' s - manipulation of the conventions of travel wri i n g . Liverpool, under these i conventional conditions , becomes a strange a d wonderful 1 y forei gn pl ace 2 - indeed and the American's journey to England becomes a voyage of discovery.

Readers of Redburn i n the nineteenth century, l i k e those in the

twentieth century, a l so noticed the b ipa r t i t e character of the book, the

novel i s t ic narration of the f i r s t half and the informational exposition of

the second. This modal s h i f t i s much more than a r e s u l t of imperfect

authorial intent ion, or careless extending of a smallish f i c t ion to book-

length. In ~edburn , ' as i n Typee, narrat ive organization and s t ruc tura l

compl exi t y not only ref1 ec t meani ng b u t create i t .

The f i r s t ha1 f of the book t e l l s of the t r a v e l l e r ' s embarkation -- a

subject not considered in Typee or Qmoo -- and of the sensations and anxiet ies

incident to f i r s t - t ime voyaging. Redburn i s , a t the outse t , an ambivalent

t r ave l l e r , on the one hand a t t r ac t ed by the romance of journeying and on

the other hand re1 uctant , inyol untar i ly conscripted in to t h e vagrant

t r ad i t ion . During his f i r s t days and weeks abroad, he I s overcome with a

profound sense of his displacement, and of having been separated from ordinary

1 i f e and deprived of his *cia1 s t a t ion . Like Susanna Moodie and Frances

34 3 -

Tro l l ope , he i s outraged and dismayed a t t h e s o c i a l i n s u b o r d i n a t i o n brought

about by t r a v e l . Aboard the Highlander he i s reduced, by n a u t i c a l usage and ,

h ie ra rchy , t o t h e s l i g h t e s t c i p h e r . I n fac t , he i s l e s s than a c iphe r , f o r

h i s inexper ience makes him a supernumerary on the outward passage, as he

p a i n f i l l y d iscovers when t h e watches a re d i v i d e d and chosen by t h e mates:

A t l a s t they were a1 1 chosen b u t me; ."and i t was t h e c h i e f mate 's nex t t u r n t o choose; though t h e r e cou ld be l i t t l e choosing i n my case, s ince .,I-- I was a t h i r t e e n e r , and must, whether o r no, go over t o t h e n e x t column, 1 i ke t h e odd f i g u r e you c a r r y a long when you do a sum i n add i t i on .12

The mates, however, consecu t i ve l y decl i n e t h e honour o f Redburn's membership

i n t h e i r watches, and h i s eventual assignment speaks more f o r h i s wor th less- *

ness than h i s va lue, even as an "odd f i gu re . " 4

While t h i s scene was go ing on, I f e l - t shabby enough; t h e r e I stood, j u s t l i k e a s i l l y sheep, over whom two butchers a r e ba rga in ing . Noth ing t h a t had y e t happened so f o r c i b l y reminded me o f where I was, and what I had come t o . I was ve ry g lad when they sen t us forward aga in (p. 39) .

Before t h l s c r i t i c a l scene, and a f t e r , t he g i s t o f i t s reminder o f "where

I was and what I had come t o " i s repea ted l y impressed on Redburn; i n s t r u c t i n g

him i n the s o c i a l changes i n c i d e n t t o t r a v e l . Separated f rom home, depr ived

o f p lace, regard and i d e n t i t y , he i s "w i thou t a s i n g l e f r i e n d o r companion,"

.and h i s embarkat ion e f f e c t s an e x c r u c i a t i n g a1 i e n a t i o n . The exper ience

i s recounted c l o s e l y , w i t h a t t e n t i o n t o i n t i m a t e psycho log ica l d e t a i l and

s u b j e c t i v e sensat ions.

But t h i s i s n o t t o be t h e f i n a l expression o f depar tu re and t r a v e l i n \

Redburn; n o r does the n a r r a t i v e mode o f t h e f i r s t chapters p res ide over

t h e whole t e x t . Gradua l ly t h e n a r r a t i v e r e s o r t s t o the convent ions o f ' P

t r a v e l w r i t i n g and t h i s change i s concur ren t w i t h the abatement o f Redburn's

f e e l i n g s o f persecut ion and a1 i e n a t i o n . I n L i ve rpoo l , where l o n g d e s c r i p t i v e

passages render the c i t y ' s docks and s t r e e t s , t he change i s conc lus ive1y

effected, b u t i t begins e a r l i e r . I t i s f i r s t indicated by a spl intering-off

of perception which def lec ts some in t e res t from the novice s a i l o r ' s pl ighq,

and permits the narrator a more comprehensive prospect of the voyage.

Navigation and geography begin to chart the narrat ive sequence -- as they d

typ ica l ly do i n voyage l i t e r a t u r e -- a n d begin to a t w a c t some of the

narrat ive at tent ion so fa r monopolized by Redburn and his misanthropic

despair. By the time the ship i s off Newfoundland, c u r i o s i t i e s a r e related .

with an omniscient eye t o t h e i r overall position in the account: " A s I

shall n o t make mention of the Grand Banks on our homeward-bound passage, I

may as well here r e l a t e , t ha t on our re turn , we approached t h e m in the

night; and' by way of making sure of our whereabouts, the deep-sea-lead

was heaved" [ p . 9 7 ) . Here, where topic i s dictated and authorized by

external data of geography and i t i ne ra ry rather than by inner anxiet ies

and preoccupations, Me1 vil 1 e addresses a travel-reading audience.

During Redburn's stay in Liverpool and his return voyage, the

expectations of t h i s audience eager for information a re ful f i l l ed. A t

Liverpool, he becomes an inspired t o u r i s t and s ightseer :

. . . I began to extend my rovings indef in i te ly ; forming myself into a corn i t tee of one, t o invest igate a l l accessible parts of the town;

'though so many years have elapsed, e re I have thought of bringing in my report .

This was a great delight t o me: for wherever I have been in the world, I have always taken a vast deal of lonely sa t i s fac t ion i n wandering about, u p and down, among out-of-the-way s t r e e t s and a l l eys , and speculating on the strangers I have m e t . ( p . 200)

" % l i g h t N and "sa t i s fac t ion" reward Redburn's indefatigable tourism, and in

. t h i s gassage i s notice o f a signal change in Redburn's t ravel experience.

Ahereas he formerly suffered despair and outrage a t the a l iena t ing e f f e c t of

;ravel , he now exults i n the "vast deal of loneTy sa t i s f ac t ion" h i s status as

31 i e n confers on ?it-. Y O longer estranged and miserable, he i s detached

and observant - - a "marvel lous s t ranger" d i s t i n g u i s h e d by h i s hugely-

buttoned shoot ing j acke t and h i s re1 e n t l ess c u r i o s i t y . Once a desperate,

misanthrop ic castaway , he becomes now a s a t i s f i e d , even p h i 1 an th rop ic s igh tseer .

The d isposal and s t r u c t u r e o f t h e n a r r a t i v e demonstrate t h i s . As

Redubrn acquires a broader perspect ive, more and more exposi t i0.n i s

inco rpo ra ted i n t o the t e x t , and i t s denota t ive , i n fo rma t iona l o f f i c e i s

extended. And once Redburn recognizes and accepts h i s p e c u l i a r s ta tus , he

r e t r e a t s , as a charac ter , f u r t h e r and f u r t h e r from the n a r r a t i v e focus, . fo r by then the issues o f h i s s o c i a l i d e n t i t y and h i s displacement have been

reso lved: t h e former i s s e t t l e d by Redburn's becoming a r a p t l y a t t e n t i v e

t o u r i s t , and the l a t t e r i s c l a r i f i e d as merely a temporary c o n d i t i o n i n c i d e n t

t o the event o f t r a v e l . I n bo th cases, the r e s o l u t i o n emerges from a

developed assumption t h a t he w i l l , i n f a c t , g e t home again.

This i s important , f o r , as i n Typee, the t r a v e l l e r i n Redburn faces 4

C

t he g r e a t danger o f s imply d isappear ing. When Redburn embarks, he env is ions

h i s depar ture as a dea th l y omen, and a course t o submersi~on i n a soundless -

fa te : . .

. . . I thought s&e enough thatvsome luck less day o r o ther , I would c e r t a i n l y f a l l overboard and be drowned. And then, I thought o f l y i n g a t the bot tom o f the sea, s t a r k alone, w i t h the g r e a t waves r o l l i n g over me, and no one i n the wide wor ld knowing t h a t I was the re (p. 33).

Redburn's dread i s e q u i v a l e n t t o T o m ' s , when the l a t t e r r e f l e c t s t h a t n o t

on l y does he face death b u t t h a t t he re i s no way of g e t t i n g news t o t h e

" loved f r i e n d s " who would a t t e n d h i s r e t u r n l ong a f t e r h i s " inanimate fonn '

had blended w i t h the d u ~ t o f t h e va l l ey . " I n each case, t h e poignancy o f

the t r a v e l l e r ' s e x t i n c t i o n l i e s i n the i r r e v e r s i b l e s i l e n c e t h a t w i l l c l ose

o v e r h i s career i f he does n o t complete h i s voyage. And t h i s b r i n g s us

back t o the spec ia l r o l e o f t h e r e t u r n e d t r a v e l l e r , who comes home bear ing

t a l e s and conveying news. When Redbqrn embarks -- f r i g h t e n e d and de r ided -- , he consoles h i m s e l f by imag in ing the complet ion o f t h e journey, when " I should

have a c t u a l l y been - [ i n ~ n g l a n d j and home again, t e l l i n g my adventures t o

d my bro the rs and s i s t e r s ; and w i t h what d e l i g h t they would l i s t e n , and how

they would look up t o me and reverence my sayings.. ." (p. 3 2 ) . A t t h i s

. -ear ly stage, however, t he p r o j e c t i o n i s i n s u f f i c i e n t t o counter evidences

of mor ta l danger and s o c i a l h u m i l i a t i o n which c o n t r a d i c t ideas o f safe

r e t u r n and a reve ren t audience. While these immediate evidences predominate,

t he n a r r a t i v e proceeds - i n an a c t i v e , dramat ic mode. B u t when they subside,

and r e t u r n i s somehow assured, Redburn begin's t o c o l l e c t t he m a t e r i a l s t h a t

w i l l document h i s t r a v e l s and the t e x t i t s e l f t u rns i n c r e a s i n g l y t o an

exposi t o r y s t r u c t u r e . As t h e n a r r a t i v e mode of Redburn takes up t h e t r a v e l

w r i t e r ' s i d iom, so does Redburn h i m s e l f acceed t o the es t imab le s t a t i o n o f

t he s t o r y - t e l l i ng adventurer who has news t o impar t .

Yet the forebodings and desperate i n t i m a t i o n s assoc ia ted w i t h voyaging .

i n the e a r l y chapters a re n o t e n t i r e l y neg lec ted once Redburn assumes h i s

n a r r a t o r i a l o b j e c t i v i t y , f o r , a lnos t simul taneously w i t h the disappearance

of the n a r r a t o r ' s anxious s e l f-consciousness, Harry Bol t on appears. Harry

.becomes . the a l i ena ted , d i s o r i e n t e d outcas t , and through the r e p o r t of h i s

death, o f f Braz i 1, t he t e r r i f i c i m p l i c a t i o n s o f sea - fa r ing a re executed.

A t the end o f t he n a r r a t i v e , a f t e r exhaust ive d e s c r i p t i o n s o f shipboard

cond i t i ons on the voyage home, Redburn recognizes t h a t be, w i t h h i s s a f e

r e t u r n and n e a r l y compl e t e exposi ti on, i s no longer t h e d r i ven, de r ided hero

t h a t he was a t h i s embarkation, and t h a t Har ry has taken h i s p lace: " I pass A

. over the recep t ion I met w i t h a t home; how I plunged i n t o embraces, 1 ong

" * and l o v i n g : -- I pass over t h i s ; and w i l l conclude my f i r s t voyage by r e l a t i n g ,

a l l I know of wha.t over took Har ry Bol ton ' ' (p. 311 ). Having taken on a

n a r r a t i v e task d i f f e r e n t from t h e one w i t h which he began -- hav ing abandoned

n o v e l i s t i c s t r u c t u r e and taken up t r a v e l e x p o s i t i o n -- the n a r r a t o r i s

qss~igned a des ti ny secure f rom c a t a s t r o p h i c consequences.

Trave l w r i t i n g i s a s o c i a l a c t i o n r e s u l t i n g from t h e w r i t e r ' s separa t ion

f rom h i s n a t i v e o r o r i g i n a l soc ie ty , h i s experience o f detachment and .

a l i e n a t i o n , and h i s formal address t o the c u l t u r e from which he has been I

separated -- n o t the c u l t u r e he descr ibes . Tomno's n a r r a t i v e i s n o t

addressed t o the Typee, Omoo's t o the ~ a h i t ians: Redburn's t o the Highlander P

crew o r t o L iverpudd l i a n s , Whi te -Jacke t ' s t o the Jieversi nk popu la t i on . I n

each case, composi ti on i s postponed and delayed, t o be d i r e c t e d t o a

c u l t u r a l l y sympathet ic audience, and i n each case composi t f o n i s p a r t o f

the business o f g e t t i n g home and be ing re7ncorporated i n t o a f a m i l a r s o c i a l

m i l i e u . I n Redburn, and i n White-Jacket, too, t h e delay o f t h e u t te rance

i s a c r i t i c a l f a c t o r . On board t h e Highlander Redburn soon l e a r n s t o

suppress h i s op in ions and f e e l i n g s , f o r t he re i s no' r e c e p t i v e forum there,

and unanimous censure f a l l s on h im when he does speak ou t : " a t l a s t , be ing

provoked t o desperat ion by t h e i r taunts , I t o l d them so t o t h e i r faces ;

b u t I might b e t t e r have k e p t s i l e n t ; f o r they now a l l u n i t e d t o abuse me"

(pp. 51 -52 ) . Samuel Hearne lea rned a s i m i l a r lesson when he reproached h i s

companions f o r t h e i r barbarous conduct and was r e p a i d w i t h t h r e a t s and

v i t u p e r a t i o n reminding h im o f h i s p lace and $aching h im t o keep h i s own /

counsel . The t r a v e l 1 e r ' s keeping h i s feel idgs t o h imse l f becows a s u r v i v a l

t a c t i c a n d s o c i a l s t r a t e g y ; b u t so does r e t a i n i n g those fee l ings , and

t o express them l a t e r t o a recep t i ve audience. The t r a v e l 1 e r

hoards h i s comnentary, ma in ta in ing h i s s i l e n c e w h i l e abroad i n a fo re ign ,

uncomprehending o r even h o s t i l e soc ie t y , and p u b l i s h i n g h i s judgements on

. h i s r e t u r n . Keeping q u i e t can e x i t e tensions i n t he so jou rne r : T o m ,

f o r ins tance, eager l y f i x e d on Marnoo as an i n t e r i m i n t e r l o c u t o r p r o v i d i n g o r

the expression o f some unspeakable ideas. t

I n White-Jacket, verba l suppression and the postponement o f d i scou rse

a r e e s p e c i a l l y de terminant i n the s t r u c t u r e of t h e t e x t . Aboard t h e

Neversink, a l l concu r ren t comnentary of the voyage i s f o r c i b l y s i lenced, by

s o c i a l sanc t i on o r by o f f i c i a l censure: t he manuscripts o f t he poe t Lemsford

a re hunted w i t h "deadly h o s t i 1 i t y " and another s a i l o r ' s d e s c r i p t i v e j o u r n a l

o f the c r u i s e i s thrown overboard. As Redburn l e a r n s t o suppress h i s f e e l i n g s

i n the i n t e r e s t s of h i s own s u r v i v a l , so White-Jacket from t h e s t a r t o f h i s

voyage recognizes the necessary d i v i s i o n between f r e e - t h i n k i n g a-ee- 9 -.-----'

say ing . His" h a t r e d o f mdck manoevres, f o r example, i s thorough ly vo iced

i n h i s d e s c r i p t i o n o f "General T r a i n i n g , " b u t t h i s i s a postponed u t te rance,

one w i t h h e l d t h a t i t may be expressed on a more p r o p i t i o u s occasion: "These

were my sent iments a t t h e t ime, and these remain my sent iments s t i l l ; b u t

as, w h i l e on board the f r i g a t e , my l i b e r t y o f thought d i d n o t extend t o

1 i b e r t y o f expression,. I was o b l i g e d t o keep these sent iments t o mysel f . . . . Ill 3

Ttle complet ion o f t h e voyage and the homecoming of t h e voyager suspend ,

r e s t r i c t i o n s on expression, and p e r m i t -- indeed, i n v i t e -- the f u l l and

f e e l i n g a r t i c u l a t i o n o f a1 1 the unmentionable sent iments assoc ia ted w i t h t h e

tlcavet exper ience. A t h a w , White-Jacket 's observa t ions have an a t t e n t i v e

and receptive audience; abrwd, they must be c l o s e l y r e s t r a i n e d . In t h e

' p e e v a l l e y , Tomno fe1 t a r a d i c a l s o c i a l a l i e n a t i o n from t h e c u l t u r e i n a

~ i j i c h he was detained; on t h e Neversink, Whi te-Jacke t exper iences a s i m i l a r

alsenat ' ion, t h i s t i n s o f a more o v e r t l y p o l i t i c a l na ture . I n each s i t u a t i o n ,

the travel l e r ' s tenure abroad

power. and separation from a1 1

represents a loss of social and pol i t ica l

normal recourse and redress. For Whi te-Jacket,

however, redress cows with the opportunity to speak out , t ha t i s , with the

formal , 1 i terary occasion to take account of his t rave ls . The extent of

the interval between the actual voyage and the l i t e r a r y version has, i n

White-Jacket, c r ' t i c a l l y dramatic import, signifying as i t does a- the travel l e r t s

po l i t i ca l subjugati.on and verbal repression. And i t a l so has s t ructural

i r n p ~ r t 1 eading to the rhetori cal compl exi t i e s of the t ex t , f o r the fur ther

the travel memoi r i s removed from the travel event, the fur ther i t i s from

the diurnal log or journal and the more " l i t e ra ry" i s the extant document.

When the t r ave l l e r has been long detained, incomnunicado, i n the foreign

milieu --- and White-Jacket observes the f r iga te as a consummately exot ic

s i t e -- the task of re la t ing the adventure becomes par t icu lar ly urgent.

.With exhortation, invective, and accusatory polemic, as well as with

obsessively comprehensi ve exposition, Whi te-Jacket vehemently engages the

a t ten t ion of his readers. In Whi te-Jacket, digression and divagation

function not as they do in A Week on the Concord and Merrimack Rivers, to

amplify a b r i e f , local route, b u t as they do i n Richardson's Eight Years in .-d'

Canada, t o invoke social and po l i t i ca l principles denied by the foreign

scene.

As a l l t h i s exuberant verbal growth claims huge portions of the t ex t ,

the l i n e a r voyage narrat ive recedes to a secondary position. Generally, the

travel wr i te r authorizes digressive argument through associat ive connections

with the mainstream of the route -- his i t inerary , h i s sightseeing, and so on.

Here the reverse i s t rue: the polemical and excursive project (normally the

s tu f f o f digression) i s so urgently embracing as t o subordinate travel

action t o i t ; the.~ev t is embedded within a vast expository network so P " corrjprehensive as make the idea of digression almost meaningless. The P few chronological$nd geographical signals in the text -- signals on which . the reader of travels rel.ies t o inform h i m of the t rave l le r ' s advance and

whereabouts --- are submerged in the larger tide of exposition and polernic.

On ' t h i s slender 1 inear series i s constructed the imnense, almost unwieldy

rhetorical superstructure of the book. Yet, i f this leads t6 no unintelligible

disproportion o r inco'herence - - for i t i s an a p t structural consequence of

the t ravel ler ' s experience -of verbal suppression -- i t does i t re tch the

conventions of the travel genre just past their- original significance.

Classical ly , the travel 7 er ' s re ti cence abroad, fol 1 owed by his verbal t

act iv i ty and ta le- te l l ing upon homecoming, i s construed as a f i t t i n g and .

natural result of the travel experience. This much i s true of Typee

and Redburn. B u t , in Whi te-Jacket, verbal restr ict ion aboard the Neversink

i s seen as an abominable silencing, and a heinous result of naval

totalitarianism. Whi te-Jacket's travel t a le call s for redress -- and effects

redress -- and that i s i t s central purpose.

I f , in his early books, Melvil l e ' s xiarrators are evasive and perplexing i 3 \ .

heroes, and i f they confound expectations of novelistic completeness, tha t

i s because, in travel narrative, the t ravel ler ' s most heroic role is. his

role not as actor b u t as speaker. As speaker, he has returned, and survived. 4

He has eluded the awesome regime of silence t h a t s e t t l s s on the embarked.

wayfarer; he has overcome the radical threat to his existence brought about

by his departure and absence, I n now speaking out, upon h i s return, he

s u b s t a n t i a t e 6 ci rcumvention of the soundless fa te intimated by his '

absence. Narration is t h e great event of the travel genre, and tk more

comprehensive a n d embracing the exposition, the larger the verbal action.

, Notes

Chapter

Melville: The Cr i t ica l Heritag e , ed. Watson G . Branch (London -

Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1974), p. 83.

Paul Whither ington, The Art of Re1 vi l l e ' s ~ j p e e , " Arizona Quarter1 y ,

26 !l97O), p . 137.

Joan Hal 1 , ' ~ e l v i l 1;'s Use of Interpolations ," The University Review,

The e a r l i e s t instance of the word "travelogue" reported by the O . E . D .

occurs i n 1903. I t i s a twentieth-century term, entering our lexicon,

wrhaps , t o account for the decline and decadence of travel l i t e r a t u r e .

Yelvi l le did not write "travelogue."

irershel Parker, 'Evidence fo r 'Late Inser t ions ' in Melv. h l e ' s Works,"

Studies in the Novel, 7 (1975), p . 413. < \

Parker ident i f ies t h e m a s Chapter 20,21 and 2 7 , and the nclusions of

Cka2ters 24, 26 and 30. 1.

/ Charles R . Anderson, Melville in _the South Seas (New York: Columbia

Univ. Press, 1939).

' I n "Melville's S o u t h Sea Romnce," Eigo Seinen, 115 (1969), 478-82,

55&-&3, Charles Anderson twites again about Typee, evaluating the t ex t as a

1T:erary ~roduc t ion and classifying i t as a "romantic travel book with the - + - - -

x e t r y ~redorninant." Yis judgements o f Typee are somewhat negative, describ-

;rr; '_ne sock's 'alrrost cwr31ete f a i l u r e of form" and Melville 's "confused

. r x r s t a n d i ~ g ' ' o f h i s b!:ir,esian experience. Anderson's arguments a re based,

l ike Whitherington's and Hall 's, on the assumption that f ic t ion has a unify-

ing effect on l i t e ra ry utterance and that factual exposition jeopardizes

coherence and meaning: "As a l i t e ra ry c r i t i c one cannot defend the digressions 6 - . "'.

'on colonial and missionary history in the opening chapters, s t i l l l e h the

complete arresting of action in the central two-thirds," ( p . 564). Inhs- * S r

Anderson's view, Typee f a i l s where i t evades novelistic structure and where ,

i t i s "too, l i t e r a l . "

Herm9n Melville, Typee: A peep a t Polynesian Life, ed. Harrison

Hayford e t al,. (Evanston: Northwestern-Newberry, 1968), fi. 3. Subsequent

references are t o th i s edition and will be cited i n the text .

In Herman Melvil l e , hnoo A Narrative of Adventures in t h e South Seas >

(New York: Dent, 1921), p . 169.

Melville: The Critical ~er i t ac je , p. 190.

l2 Herman Melville, Redburn: His F i r s t Voyage, ed. Harrison Hayford - e t

a l . (Evanston: Northwestern-Newberry, 1969), p. 39. Subsequent references are

t o th is edition and will be ci ted in the text .

i3 Herman Nelville, White-Jacket: Or, the World in a Man-of-war, ed.

Harrison Hayford e t a1 . (Evanston: Northwestern-Newberry, 1970), p. 65.

Chapter 8

In Foreign Places a t Home and Abroad: Samuel

Cl m s , U i l l iam Dean Howel 1 s and Henry James

When Redburn tours the docks of Llverpool , collecting data and con-

sulting strangers, he approaches the city a s a place intriguingly foreign,

exotic and describabiz. Considered from an American point of view, England

becomes a d t e of discovery and a f i t subject for a travel document. B u t

Yelville use8 the conventions of travel narrative not just t o investigate

differences between America and Eur pe; he a1 so uses t h q to explain his 9 narrator's experience of a1 ienationbnd to describe Redburn s accession t o

the role of speaker, and a r t i s t . The formal currency of the travel genre -k

;t- - p in the nineteenth century a1 lowed Yelvil l e this ra@e of intention i n his

travel w r i t i n g , b u t in manipulating generic conventions to come a t ulterior .

meanings, Melville's art participated in the decadence of the form. By the

l a s t half of the nineteenth century, the s t r i c t informational purpose of

travel w r i t i n g had been eroded, the journey had become something of a .

1 i terary device rather than an occasion, and the travel genre was showing

signs of wear and tear. In the travel wr i t ing . of the three authors to be

considered i n this chapter i s further evidence of the deterioration of the

genre. In Samuel Clemens' w r i t i n g , the conventions of travel narrative are

suscepti bl e to burlesque and parody; to N i l 1 iam Dean tiowell s travel

narrative suggested, finally Irresf sti bly, novel l stic forms

w i t h the classic p r i nciples of travel w r i t i n g ; for Henry James, i n The - American Scene, the ultimate gesture i n the refinement of travel narrative

invo lved the abandonment of itinerary as a structural principle and the dis-

353

regard of empirical data i n documentation. The travel works of these three

influential writers are culturally central compositions, not peripheral P

anomal ies, and their departure from conventional structures pertains to the

development and decl ine of the genre.

Nevertheless, travel w r i t i n g continued t o serve some a r t i s t i c purposes . - consistent w i t h i t s original formulations. As the travel narrator had a l l

a1 ong tended to reveal himsel f , especial ly i n his cul tural and soci a1

beliefs, so, i n Clemens' w r i t i n g , the American abroad i s essentially exposed.

Aspects of his cultural make-up are disclosed abroad as they are not a t

home, where he i s camouflaged i n his native h a b i t a t . A t -large i n the

world, u p against foreign attitudes and customs, the American discovers

himself. For Howel 1 s , too, travel' yielded insights i n t o character, culture

and national type -- so many insights, i n fact, t h a t after w r i t i n g three

travel books early i n his career, Howells took up novel i s t i c travel fiction

to accomnodate a1 3 the social and psychological information divulged by

sightseeing and tourism. And for James, to the end of his career, travel

meant access to a wealth of comparative occasions for his specu 7 ations

on manners and culture. P

All three of these writers used the travel form to represent their

native country -- Clemens i n - Life on the Mississippi, Howells i n Their

Weddinq Journey and James i n The American Scene. As Thoreau f e l t the apt- 2- ness of travel narrative i n describing North America, so d i d Clemens and

James resort to the travel genre to determine a 1 iterary relation to their

original culture. Howells, i n a parallel vein, used travel narrative to

get good purchase on some k&ient 'r t r a i t s of American society. And, i n

each case, the ar t i s t ic distinction of their domestic travel narratives

surpassed t h a t o f t h e i r fore ign t rave l wr i t ing .

L ike Me lv i l l e , Clemens found an ea r l y i n v i t a t i o n t o pub l ica t ion i n h i s

experience i n the Pac i f i c , and w i th h i s dispatches from the Sandwich Islands

h i s t rave l w r i t i n g career began. The Let ters from ~ a w a i i ' were sponsored

by a Ca l i f o rn ia newspaper, the Sacramento Union, and when Cl.emens embarked

from San Francisco i n 1866 f o r Honolulu he set o u t as a t rave l correspondent.

I n these l e t t e r s and i n the volume o f European t rave l s which followed,

Innocents Abroad (1869), Clemens struggles w i th 'the weighty cargo o f con-

ventions t h a t the 1 i terary t rave l l e r car r ies w i th him. He manipulates

h i s unwieldy burden, s h i f t i n g i t from one hand t o the other, from comedy

t o informational discourse and back again t o s e l f -conscious parody. Let ters

from Hawaii i s i n te res t i ng t o us f i r s t i n t h a t i t s w r i t i n g was Clemens'

apprenticeship i n the genke which l e d t o h i s t rave l masterpiece, L i f e on

the Yiss iss ipp i , and second i n t h a t i t s uneasy obeisance t o the increasingly

r i g i d conventions o f t rave l w r i t i n g r e f l e c t s the decadence of a genre.

Clemens knew t h a t as a t rave l narrator he had t o supply scenic

descr ipt ion, notable meditations, h i s t o r i c a l background, and concrete

staJist ica1 data. The l a s t he acquired r e a d i l y and expressed i n the form

of argumentative exhortat ion t o Ca l i fo rn ian readers on issues of trade w i th

the i s 1 ands, ag r i cu l tu ra l a c t i v i t y , and whal ing. H is to r i ca l information

accrued more slowly, but as he became increasingly interested i n h i s

, subject , h i s to r i ca l researches began t o suppl ement personal observations.

In both these areas the correspondent was f a i r l y a t home -- o r comfortably

a broad.

But i n the other two areas -- scenery and contemplation -- he encountered

some problems which he resolved w i t h comedy. O f course, humour gives the

collection much of i ts'enduring value, b u t i t makes a res t less bed-fellow

for the informational components of the discourse. While the reporter 's

frank inquiries reveal interesting facts , the humourist's scepticism

chal 1 enges credul i t y . What the Letters final 1 y suggests i s the essential

unrel iabil i t y of a1 1 way-side speculation and, particularly, the travel 1 e r a s

absurdly amateur capacity to distinguish truth from u n t r u t h .

The d i scovery of the pretenti~us~ness of the travel 1 e r ' s ,pronouncements

i s a latent theme in the Letters and a prominent one i n Innocents Abroad.

In Clemens' view, the travel wri ter ' s idiom i s f u l l of temptations to in f la te

nothings into sententiousness, and to publish the tediously commonplace.

In the Letters, the redundancy of conventional travel techniques i s soon

evident to the narrator:

In w r i t i n g about sea voyages i t i s customary to s ta te , w i t h the blandest a i r of conveying information of rare freshness and originality, that anything, however t r iv ia l , that promises to spice the weary monotony of the voyage w i t h a new sensation, i s eagerly seized upon and the most made of i t by the ~ a s s e n g e . I decl ine to insul t your Intel 1 igence by making th i s threadbare statement, preferring to believe you would easi ly divine the existence of the fact without having to be told i t ( p . 13).

A real qua1 i ty of discovery may once have 1 egi timi zed these now ordinary

travel observations, buts*now the actual informational utterance i s gone, - -

leaving a merely formal- shell , a "threadbare" construction of no .-

c m n i c a t i v e val ue . However, even though t h i s travel 1 er f s aware of the

speciousness of his remark, he must make i t anyway. In taking up the

travel form, he seems to be led inescapably to such material. He i s

predestinated -- physically by his i t inerary and verbally by his l i t e ra ry

mode -- to re i tera te , repeat and review. Only comedy, often i n the form

of derisive contempt for unwitting pract i t l of the genre, can placate

the demands o f self-consciousness. The sa f the genre renews i t , and

recovers the "freshness" 1 acki ng in factitious travel and travel wr i t ing .

For Clemens, i n Letters from Hawafi-and Innocents Abroad, the world has

been mostly 'di scovered ; travel 1 ers are no 1 onger distinguished members of

an e l i t e company, and their reports are no longer the telling of unusual I

adventure. A version of travel which obeys obsolete assumptions will not

account for the fact that travel i s now no extraordinary adventure b u t g

bourgeois cmonplace. Nor will i t acknowledge that the idiom of travel,

which refers to the drama of discovery and novelty, i s now no longer

generated by the experience b u t imposed on i t . For Clemens, a t this

early stage, only travel documents 1 i ke Letters from Hawaii and Innocents

Abroad, which account for these factors through parody, 'can s t i 11 . make

original statements.

Neverthel ess , Cl emens on h i s f i rs t journey cannot a bsol utel y d i sregard 4

the expectations of his travel -reading audience. His s ta t i s t ics and

historical sumnaries make some head-way towards fu l f i l 1 i n g these expectations

w i t h o u t compromising his taste. B u t there remains the question of .. requisite meditations on scenery. Even among a herd of sightseers and

touring "scri bbl ers," Clemens -is sometimes moved to describe a natural

prospect, w i t h apparent sincerity and pleasure. B u t always a questioning

voice undercuts contempl ative propositions and checks descriptive abandon.

This naxt passage i s a conspicuous example of Clemens' descriptive

pattern, compacting as i t does in one episode the diffuse sensations of

the reflective tourist and the acute comedy of his ostentatious reverie. e

Here the landscape description i s an overt parody; in other instances the

sa t i r ic ref1 ex i s postponed, a1 lowing description a temporary authenticity.

This epiaode i s sub-titled "Sentiment:" - Impressed by the profound silence and repose t h a t rested over

the beautiful landscape, and being, a s usual, i n the r ea r , I gave voice to my thought. I said:

"What a picture i s here slumbering i n the solemn glory of the moon! How strong the ru out1 ines of the dead volcano stand +- out against the c lear . s y! What a snowy f r inge marks the b u r s t i n g surf over the 1 ong, curv-eef! How calmly the dim c i t y sleeps yonder i n the plain! How s o f t the shadows l i e upon the s t a t e l y mountains tha t border the dream-haunted Manoa Val 1 ey! What a grand pyramid of b i l l owy clouds towers above the s tor ied Pai ! How the gr im warriors of the past seem flocking i n ghostly squadrons t o t h e i r ancient ba t t l e f i e ld again -- how the wails o f the dying will u p from the --"

A t t h i s point the horse cal led Oahu de l ibera te ly s a t down i n the sand. Sat down to 1 i s ten, I suppose (pp. 62-63) .

Cl emens has here col1 e c t e d the most cherished Troper t i e s of the travel

a r t i s t and s e t t h e m out to see how they look. F i r s t i s the e x p l i c i t

connection between scene and expressive fee l ing , a connection favoured by

the sens i t ive t r a v e l l e r : "impressed" by the prospect, he en ters in to

a1 1 egedly extemporaneous prai se and vocal wonderment. 'Indeed, he takes

1 i t e ra l l y the rhetor ical device of " g i v i n g voice" to sentiment, and t a l ks

out loud i n response to an i r r e s i s t i b l e impression. His declamation i s a

conpendiurn of 1 andscape epi the t : "solemn glory," "rugged out1 ines ,"

"snowy f r inge ," " s t a t e l y mountains," "dream-haunted" vall ey, "grand -

~ y r a n i d of billowy clouds." So f luent i s Clemens i n this mode, and so

thickly does he pack his paragraph w i t h i t s fea tures , without meaning any

of i t , t ha t we are led to the suspicion t h a t landscape description may

be w r e l y a matter o f dic t ion , and t ha t the t r a v e l l e r could have stayed

hone and consulted h is schooled imgfnat ion ra ther than take the trouble

of an excursion. The journey i t s e l f may be unnecessary t o the journey

document. The refractory horse clinches an argument already established

by the parody: €he contem~Tatfve hero, who so author i ta t ive ly masters a

1 @ I o n of modifiers, can hardly maintain his s t a tu re mounted on this bored

and recalf c i t r a n t beast. The actual view f s peripheral t o the eplsode,

359

no more than a pretext for some 1 i terary manoeuvres. And this i s precisely

Cl emens ' message regarding the travel genre: that diction and convention

have subordinated s i t e and event; that the genre, i n these scenic instances,

has ceased t o comnunicate authentic news.

C l a n s refuses t o endorse the travel creed. His apostasy i s much more

forci bly expressed i n Innocents Abroad, b u t i t originates i n Hawaii : he does

no t believe that the traveller i s spiritually moved by physical transport-

a t i o n ; he denies t h a t valuable information can be acquired and organized

by the lay person simply because he goes abroad; he refutes the ritual of

travel meditation and insists that nothing much comes of meeting u p w i t h

historical relics or natural spectacles. He makes the required expeditions, b.

b u t his itinerary, 1 ike Ms report, i s committed only formally to convention-

al ' travel practices. In the modern epoch of travel, proper journeys are

precedented and regular , and no 1 onger expl oratory. Cl emens.' travel 1 er

chafes a t the embarrassing predictability of his peregrinations, b u t stays

w i t h i n their inexorable circuit. (The predestinated course i s most C

emphatically illustrated i n Innocents Abroad, where the published prospectus

o f the cruise comnits each passenger to an itinerary foreseeable i n every

detail .) Where he comes into his own, and insists on his 1 iterary

privacy and on the worth of this particular document i n a now dismally

general tradition, i s i n his criticism of the genre w i t h i n which he writes.

Letters from Hawaii contains some undistinguished material -- out-moded

argument and ephemeral landscapes. B u t i t does possess one permanent asset,

and that i s the characterization of Brown, a fictional companion whose

reported opinions begin t o set u p the complex of attitudes-out of which

Cl mens makes the narrator of Innocents Abrobd. Brown i s often the spokes-

man for prejudice and provincialism, b u t he frequently has the upper hand

ovircthe more deliberately 1 iberal narrator. Brown has the habit of

reading "over one's shoulder," and, as i t happens, objects to his companion's

version of the islands, and would gladly edit . As the correspondent

concludes a lengthy appreciation of colourful scenes i n Honolulu, Brown

inter jects some qua1 ifying detai 1 :

A t th is moment, th i s man Brown, who has no better manners than to read over one's shoulder, observes:

"Yes, and hot. Oh, I reckon not (only 82 in the shade)! Go on, now, and p u t .it a l l down, now that you've begun; jus t say, 'And more "santipedes," and cockroaches, and f leas , and 1 izards, and red ants, and scorpions, and spiders, and mosquitoes and missionaries ' -- oh, blame my cats i f I 'd l ive here two months, not i f I was High-You Muck and King Wawhoo. . . ! " -7

I remarked: " B u t idr. Brown, theselare t r i f l e s . " "Trifles be -- blowed! You get n i p ed by one of t h e m scorpions

once, and see how you l ike it!" (p . 32f

Overall, narrative opinion res ts w i t h Brown's side of the argument and the i

correspondent's superficially cosmopol i tan at t i tude i s exposed as narrow

and pretentious. As the correspondent final 1 y remarks of h i s companion,

a f te r recording Brown's iconoclastic outburst on the subject of Cook ' s

monument: "The creature has got no sense, b u t his vaporings sound strangely

plausible sometimes" ( p . 242)*

Brown represents a classic figure of journey l i t e ra ture -- the

temperamental travel 1 e r , He i s i rri t a b l y real i s t i c , contemptuous,

romance of voyaging, and acutely c r i t i ca l of the practices of travel

writing, Clemens takes hold of the travel1 e r ' s tendency to chauvinism

(the revitalized attachment to home things and familiar ways that t ravellers

1 i ke Smol l e t t or Frances Trollope or Anna Jameson f e l t when se t a t large

i n the world) and turns i t to use i n his characterization of Brown, We

wil'l see how much of Brown i s evident i n th+narrator of Innocents Abroad. \- \\.

361

r 1

If the writer of the Hawaiian le t ters f e l t the imptngement of=popular

convention on his personal journey, the traveller i n Innocents Abroad

i s inundated by an irrmense wave of c m n travel which i s "the tide of

goi ng t o ~ u r o ~ e . "' Journeys are

a stalwart e l i t e , b u t a vulgar m C

Cl emens ' exaggeration. The pro1

generates a wash of conventional

and Cl emens ' travel l er t s caught

a great popular movement. Everybody was going to Europe -- I, too, was

here no longer the inspired venture of

igratory phenomenon made vaster by

if erati on of journeys and Journey-makers

idiom t o carry along the travel writer,

up i n this collective verbal tide as

soon as he attempts a description of hts embarkation: "A l i t t l e after noon

on t h a t distinguished Saturday I reached the ship and went on board. All

whs bustle and confusion. ( I have seen t h a t remark before somewhere.)" i

( p , 25) Echoes and reiterations dog him everywhere, across the ~ t l a n t i c ,

through Europe and the Yiddle East. In Rome he refuses t o sound a phrase

which i s not simply familiar b u t seemingly inevitable: "Butchered to

make a Roman holiday sounds well for the f i r s t seventeen or eighteen

hundred thousand times one sees i t in print, b u t after that i t begins to

grow tiresome. I find i t in a l l the books concerning Rome..." (p. 205)

Abroad, Cl emens' narrator encounters not just predictable foreign locations

b u t also the crazy l i terary monstrosity t h a t i s the sum of the thousand

voices of derivative, hunidm travel writers. Like most di 1 igent travellers,

he researches as he goes, b u t his sources are less informatfve than

reputsive, inciting trim t o a stubborn resistance t o thefr cant. Indeed,

there seem to be less expressive freedom abroad t h a n a t home.

The narrator's d i m y before the overworked sights of Rome grows out

g f his distaste for the wearisome obligation t o relate what i s neither new

nor newsworthy:

What i s there i n Rome for me to see that others have not seen before me? What i s there for me to touch that others have not touched? What i s there for me to feel , to 1 earn, to hear, to know, that shall thr i l l me before i t pass to others? Mhat can I discover? Nothing. Nothing whatsoever (pp. 190-91).

This t r i t e travel enterprise f a i l s to supply the essenttal substance of

the travel document: the sense of discovery. As a traveller, the

narrator i s prepared "to feel , t o 1 earn, t o hear, to know" and to pass

his experience to others, indeed to respect the whole

writer. B u t here are no fresh revelations, no v i r g i n

information, and nothing, even, "to feel ." This antiquity i s so

completely subsumed into the o r d i m , collective knowledge of his culture

and so thoroughly remarked, t h a t there i s n o t h i n g l e f t t o imgart except

derivative imitations o f experience. Only ersatz discoveries remain to

be made, and Clemens regards them with disdain. /--\

bli t h o u t the prestige of di scovery , the travel 1 er ' s reputation suffers.

Clemens discounts the traveller 's status, allowing his tales no claim

to,serious attention. He even goes so far as t o see travel experience as

a negative attribute leading to pretense and humbug. In France he i s

moved to indignation:

The Old Travelers -- those delightful parrots who have "been there before" and know more about the country than Louis Napoleon knows or ever will know -- te l l us these things.. . . . . .we 1 ove the Old Travel ers. We love to hear them prate and drivel and 1 ie. We can t e l l the moment we see them. They always throw out a few feelers; they never cast themselves adr i f t t i1 they have sounded every individual and know that he has not t r L e d . Then they open their thrott le valves, and how they do brag, and sneer, and sweT7, and soar, and blaspheme the sacred name o f T r u t h ! Their central idea, their grand aih, i s to subjugate you, keep you down, make you feel insignificant and humble i n the blaze of their cosmopolitan glory! They will not l e t you know anythtng ( p . 83).

A i t h these exclamations, Cl emens attacks a venerable shibboleth i n the

phi1 osophy of travel, namely, the doctrine of credibility, which puts

3 63

the traveller's tales beyond the sedentary sceptic's jurisdiction by virtue

of the te l le r ' s exotic, foreign experience. Not having been abroad, (he

, audience has no authority by which to resis t the traveller's pronouncements. --

Clemens says this i s a case of illegitimate power, a self-serving tyranny

by the cognoscenti. To further his argument, he accuses the

not merely of pomposity b u t of calculated fa1 sehood. Travel

i s an insidious pretense.

The Old Traveler i s supported i n his false authority by

Old Traveler

know1 edge

a dense *

l i terary network of travel w r i t i n g . The tourist affectjng an informed

sen5ibility travels i n a verbal matrix of guide-books and travel memoirs,

which he consults a t every point where some decorous response i s required.

Clemens' traveller i s sorely provoked by the rote raptures uttered by his

companions before pictures and scul pture and archi tecture, and when his

own judgements are negative, as they are a t S t . Sophia's i n Constantinople,

he i s especial 1 y exasperated :

Everywhere was d i r t and dust and dinginess and gloom; everywhere were signs of a hoary antiquity, b u t with nothing touching or beautiful about i t ; everywhere were those groups of fantastic pagans; overhead the gaudy mosaics and the web of 1 amp ropes -- nowhere was there anything to w i n one's love or challenge his admipation.

The people wbo go into ecstasies over S t . Sophia must surely get them out of the guidebook (where every church i s spoken of as being "considered by good judges to be the most marvelous structure, i n many respects, that the world has ever seen"). Or else they are

- those old connoisseurs from the wilds of New Jersey who laboriously learn the difference between a fresco and a fireplug and from that day forward feel privileged t o void their crit ical bathos on painting, scul pture , and architecture forevermore (p. 261).

A t S t . Sophia's the narrator i s submerged In f i l th : not only do the foul

decay and unhygenfc squalor of the cathedral offend hts taste and sensibil i ty ,

b u t so do the verbal excreta of the counterfeit connoisseurs.

In Palestine, the conflict between the. l i terary version of the scene

and f t s perceived character reaches a climax. Palestineis a disappointment

t o this traveller; i t i s small and ugly, a shabby and ukeliable foundition

for the magniloquent superstructure created by the pious enthusiasm of

Christian sightseers. The Sea of Galilee i s a case' i n point. Our narrator

ci tes a long description, allegedly from a secondary source, which

deploys al l the usual diction to celebrate landscape -- "the richest green"

prospect i s "diversified" by streams and "dark chasms OP l ight sunny

vall eys ," whi 1 e "wild and desolate mountains" contrast w i t h the "deep

blue lake" -- and concludes w i t h : "'The whole appearance of the scene i s

precisely what we would expect and desire the scenery of Gennesaret to be,

grand beauty, % u t quite calmt " (pp. 366-67). What i s expected and desirable,

3 however, only obscures the true picture. When the real i s t ic travel 1er

compares the 1 iterary rendition t o the actual i t y before him, he i s moved

to contradiction: . \.

I t i s an ingeniously written description and wek, calculated to deceive. B u t i f the paint and the ribbons and t h e flowers be stripped from i t , a skeleton will be found. a

-So stripped, there remains a lake six miles wide a i n color; w i t h steep green banks unrelieved by shrub peu ery; a t trals one end bare, unsightly rocks, with (almost invisible) holes i n them of no conse uence t o the picture; eastward, "wild and desolate mountains" ? low, desolate hi l ls , he should have said); i n the north a mountain called Hermon, w i t h snow on i t ; peculiarity of the picture, "calmness;" i t s prmi nent feature, one tree.

No ingenuity could make such a picture beautiful -- t o one's actual vision (p. 367).

Although this i s an aggressive attack on certain literary precedents," the

writer s t i l l speaks from w i t h i n the travel tradition, for i t i s the original

duty of the reporting traveller t o disabuse his audience of misconceptions.

This conscientious travel1 er redresses the excesses and errors of the genre

he follows, dispel 1 ing the fa1 1 acious romance of this particular foreignness

by re-stating the 1 f teral facts in spare, unadorned language. Original ly ,

the t ravel lw's f i r s t narrative purpose was to brlng back authentic news,

not banal fabrications. Now '~lernens recalls that s t r i c t e r purpose, through -

his cr i t ique of the 1 i terature pertaining to t h i s place, and of i t s -

influence on the minds of his companion pi1 grims.

As the Christian travel writer who exalts a. pal t ry sight goes

abroad w i t h inflexible expectations, so, too, do the pilgrims from the

cruise boat "Quaker City" bring "their verdicts with them:"

They have shown i t i n thei r conversation ever slnce we l e f t Betrut. I can aFmst tell , i n set phrase, what they wf 11 say when they see Tabor, Nazareth, Jericho, and Jerusalem -- because I have the books they will "smouch" their ideas from. These authors write pictclres and frame rhapsodies, and lesser men follow and see wtth the author's eyes instead of their own, and 'speak w i t h h i s twgue. What the pilgrfms said a t Caesarea P h i f i p p i , surprised me with i t s wisdom. I found i t afterwards in Robinson. What they said when Gennesaret burst upon their vision charmed me with j ts race. I find i t in Mr. Thompson's Land and the Book ( p . 3693.

These tourists plagiarize their travel experience. In i t s e l f th is might

not be so despicable a practice, b u t when the plagiarized source i s

inaccurate, the pf Igrirns end

A t t h i s point, a t t h e zenith

has ceased t o inform and has .A

la t f tudes of r w n c e and the

by travel 1 i n g through a miasma of misconception. * of i t s i nfl uence, the 1 i terature of travel

b e g u ~ t ' a mtsinfom. The twre e las t ic the

more r i g i d the h 9 l i t i e s of rapturous 7

appreciation, the further the travel genre departs from i t s original purpose

of conveyf ng news of a mnderful truth. .And in suyhde r ing i t s claim t

to 1 i tera l status, i t gives up i t s rhetorical au thor iq .

s ights : the Cathedral a t W a n . induces endless amazement; the Chateau d t I f ,

the Bridge of S Q k s a d the Paris mrgue.all Inspire speculations i n pathos.

itha i s , then, th l s narratorso fnsfstent on scepticism yet susceptible to

vestf gial presence of this earl ier characterization suggests that the

narrator i n Innocents Abroad i s a device, and a vehicle for Clemens'

ideas about travel and w r f t i n g . Clemens outf i ts his narrator w i t h some

Brownesque irreverence, sets h i m on a route tha t continually chall enges

his judgement, and extracts some notable pronouncements. On the subject

of Venice he says: "In the treacherous sun1 ight we see Venice decayed,

for1 orn, poverty~stricken, and c m e r c e l ess -- forgotten and utterly

insignificant" ( p . 158). S t , Yark's he describes as "unlovely" and

"worn out" ( p . 162). Da Vinci ' s Last Supper, he~discovers, i s a "mournful

wreckf') (p . 136). These may be the opinions of the "innocent" abroad, who

declares that the emperor has, af ter a1 1 , no clothes. Or they may be the

effusions of an exuberant flew World Philistinism. B u t they probably

transcend the att i tudes of b o t h the innocent and the Phil ist ine.

For ode thing, the narrator concedes a modest change i n his outlook

as he advances on his tour. The innumerable faded masterpieces which

had so fa r failed to arrest h i m in his irreverent progress abruptly begin

t o touch him, in Rme, when he sees Raphael 's Transfiguration. He 1 i kes u.

t h e picture, and a new thought occurs to him'? " I t begins to dawn upon me

that possibly what I have been t a k i n g for uniform ugliness i n the galleries 7 -

Kay be uniform beauty af ter a l l " ( p . 219). So far he has repeatedly dis-

counted the reputations of inportant p i c t u ~ a and derided their admirers, 9

'3ut always nitb the ~rov i so of his own inexperience. !low the ~ rov i so

Lecmes mre t h a n a mere qua l i f i ca t i on , as hfs u n i n f o d sensibil i ty

5qTns t o a5sorb sor?i f5forGtfon . Se gKs on t o val-uate other plcbrres. J

The i s sue here i s rat ti-te rather rude quality of his amateur crft icluns,

S u t the mod i n which they are carrjed on. The narrator's modest and h

careful 1 y qua1 i f ied appreciations affirm the descriptive travel tradition

in a way in which pseudo-information and borrowed opinions cannot. Indeed,

t/le l a t t e r emasculate the genre where t h e former regenerate i t s original

promise: the authentic reporting of firsthand experience. The scepticism

and untutored perceptions of a traveller like Brown or his successor i n

Innocents Abroad rejuvenate a genre encumbered and exhausted by imitation.

The narrator o f the European travels' i s really more a sceptic abroad

t h a n an innocent. He f s constantly a ler t to evidences which repudiate not

drily popular versions of the locations he vis i ts bu t also his own precon-

ceptions. The learning on th l s voyage will be the sceptic's "unlearning,"

described this way, i n Palestine: "I can see easily enough that if I wish

t o profit by this tour and come t o a correct understanding of the matters

of interest connected with i t , I must studiously and faithfully unlearn

a great many things I had7somehow absorbed concernfng Palestine': (p. 349).

The text that results from this "unlearning" will be necessarily authentic,

for this travel s to ry i s refemed t o the genre's radical motive -- seei ng

f o r oneself.

Withstanding and refuting the factitious precedents o f travel means

~aintaining one's independence and, importantly, one's identity. A

subt le treachery i s afoot in these dtfflcul t cross-cultural situations,

and tourists who abandon their native attitudes t o ape foreign manners

are ridiculous and contemptible: "We wish to excfte the envy o f our un-

t r ave l led friends w i t h our strange foreign fashions which we can't shake

g f f . All our passengers are paying s t r i c t attention t q this t h i n g , with

t he end in view which I have mentioned. The gentle reader will never,

lever know what a consumate ass he can become until he goes abroad" (p . 167).

& s i d e the danger o f being assfnine, there i s the strange prospect of

losing one's Identity altogether: " I t is not pleasant t o see an-American

thrusting his nationality forward obtrusively i n a foreign land, but,oh,

i t i s pi t iable to see h im making of himself a t h i n g that i s neither male

nor female, neither f ish , f lesh, nor fowl -- a poor, miserable hermaphrodite i

Frenchman!" (p. 168) There are just these dangers i n foreign travel , and

between the offensive obtrusiveness of the assertive American and the

pathetic mimicries of the would-be European 1 ies a narrow route to be

negotiated w i t h care.

Travel seems to bring out the worst i n the narrator 's companions.

The other pi 1 gri ms become affected, preposterous creatures, engaged i n a

petty adventure which the i r c m n p l ace imaginati ons inf la te t o vulgar

proportions. There i s f inal ly a disorienting absurdity i n thei r enterpri se:

The scenery of the Bible i s about you -- the customs of the patriarchs are around you - - the same people, in the same f1 owing robes and i n sandals, cross your path -- the same long trains of s ta te ly camels ' go and come -- the same impressive religious solemnity and silence r e s t upon the desert and the mountains that were upon thm in the remote ages of antiquity, and behold, intruding upon a scene l ike t h i s , comes this fantast ic mob of green-spectacl ed Yan their flapping el bows and bobbing umbrellas t (B. 335 f

This long sentence.begi ns with frank, evocative description as Clemens 1

Qkes i n the imposing historical associations of the landscape and reports

the gis t of i t -- i t s "religious solemnity and silence." B u t then, into t

the same construction, he thrusts hls conic insight, a l l brist l ing w i t h

the ungainly t r iv ia of elbaws and umbrellas. I t Is a fantast ic "mb"

indeed, and the fantast i cal qua1 i ty of the scene comes from the unholy,

surprising juxtaposl tions whfch i l l -considered travel will make,

effecting unthinkable transpositfons, settlng down bourgedis North Americans

i n an ancient, awesone wasteland. lihat are these green-spectacled riders

h i n p there? Should they s t ay hme, Pather t h a n t ry to wnetrate such

i - m ~ i o ~ s sub1 in i t i es w i t h their t r iv ia l it inerary? 4

In any case, they are earnestly abroad, and the narrator i s among "

them. B u t he i s also separate from t h e m , partly through his resistant

scepticism and independent judgements, and partly through the detached 4

perspectfve which allows him this vision of the "bobbiing," outlandish L

caravan making i t s peculiar way across the desert. The company of tourists

becomes a central object of his commentary, providing the freshest news

from abroad, name1 y , the bizarre consequences of a New World reconnai sance

of the 9ld .

No such unconscionable juxtapositions occur in Life on the Mississippi.

I n that book the traveller makes his way with dignity, familiarizing himself

with the river and i t s region. The a r t of travel i s pursued with the

"leisure and 1 i k r t y " Thoreau believed necessary to i t , and i t s conventions

are exercised in the interests of both memoir and discovery.

Life on the Yississippi i s structurally much more complex t h a n

Inhocents Abroad, where itinerary provided a simp1 e sequence. ~ea t -1 .~ a

third of the book i s comprised of rminiscences of Clemens' river apprentice-

sh ioas a cub pilot. Although this sectionof the text 1s not typically

travel 1 i terature, i t i s about a young man's journeys. And the book as a

whole i s travel 1 iterature: the overall structure which she1 ters the memoir

and provides i t s formal occasion i s the account of Clemens' 1882 tour on /

t h e ?4ississfp~i.

There are some similarities between Life on the 'lississippi and

' .k lvl l le 's Sedhrn , Both k k s begin their Journeying with the embarkatton

o f a young, naive voyager aspf rt ng t o the romance of travel . In each case,

:I? ~rotagonist ' s travel education (the cub pilot "learns" the river as

? e d h r n learns the ro2zs on the Highlander) effaces the romance of travel

3 ~ 3 rep1 aces i t w i t h vact ical , professional knowledge. And, in each case,

when the personal crisfs of ignorance and insecurity subsides, a more .r-- f 1

objective and comprehensive narrative voi ce appears. A1 so, Cl emens '

preoccupation with d i saster3 -- s l nkings, groundings , explosions -- in

Life on the !lississippi corresponds to Redburn's morbid forebodings a t

his embarkation. In the la ter sections o f t l f e on the Hississippi,

however, calamity i s only a n academic consideration for the tourist

whose route is safe and e m n p l a c e comoared t o the seqtience o f ctreadfd

risks faced by the cub pilot'. Tirnilarly, Redburn, once he takes up the -

detached perspe tive o f the tqurist , i s free of mortal anxieties. i The touris t ' s intentions dominate Life on the tlississippi, subordinat-

ing mmir contont to the cmpendious discovery of the river i tself . The

river i s , as Clemens observes i n his f i r s t sentences, "well worth readjng

about. I t i s n o t J. corrsnonplace river, b u t on the contrary i s i n a1.l ways

rmarkabl e. ' 1 4 Already, the river has a 1 i terary aspect, begs "reading

a b u t ! ' and, by extension, writing a b u t . I ts geography and i t s history -- i t s magnitude; fluency, f i r s t a?pearances in the l i terature of discovery -- are 31 1 ''renarkabl e," inherently interesting and f i t for research. These

facts are the marvellous news the travel expositor seizes, moved t o

elucidate atx i explain as he never was by the "worn out" phenomena of the

3ld !dorld. Clemens relates these splendid and profuse fac ts with reverence,

just as Tbreau introduces his journey on the Concord and 'lerrimack wf th

a se r i ous concentration on the history and geogra~hy o f the rivers which

will lead V m on. As both Trvfng and Thoreau found the travel genie a - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

wa:d of getting a t some essential aspects of American experience, so does

S l e o n s . Althougq trwe7 narrative was a nearly out-moded device for

vehicle for ldescri~tign of + i s native country.

Clernens' introductory review, taking u? the f i r s t two chapters of the

book, ostahlishes ex?ository ?rinci?les which are those o f the l i terary

tourist . The eighteen chagters which review the narrator's early river

journeys intervene between the implicit announcement of formal intentions

and the execution of these intentions in the touris t ' s reported voyage.

The reminiscences were written some years before the account o f the pleasure

t r ip , was cornposed ,5 b u t the i nterval need not be regarded as evidence of

s t r u c t ~ r a l disparity in the text, or of the two segments' forced or unnatural

alliance. Rather, the two narrative phases o f Life on the !Iississippi

are part of the book's development, expressing a transition in the writer 's 3

gerspective. Like the f i r s t section of Redburn , the eighteen cha~ te r s

on the pi lot ' s apprentices hi^ convey, th rough the event of '?etting o u t ,

infomation on the intricate hazards of travel,, on the vanity and humiliation

of the novice wavfarer, and on his gradual assimilatfon i n t o a manly

cmoany of skilful travellers. In Life on the Mississippi, the process of

assimilation entails less s ~ f f e r i n g and misery than i t does i n Redburn, b u t A

i t Srf ngs nevertheless s m e frustration and dismay. !.!hat the young man

learns abou t piloting and steamboats i s a t f i r s t related drarnatica-lly,

through instruction artd monition quoted dlrectly from the apprentice's

preceptor, Horace Bixby, b u t i s then gradually converted to expository 1

material , i ndependent of dialogue or even episode.

Chapter XX I performs the transition behdeen the bio-narratjve sections, V

srtd w i t h C haater X X I1 a new chronology begins t o operate, one classically -

sui t 4 to exps i t w y activi t les: the chronology of a journey's itinerary.

From this p o i n t on, al l narrative items are subordinated through association

to, the. writer,' s it inerary. And the text now decisively relocates pofnt

o f view. The narrator becanes uhequivocally a tour i s t , and a l i t e ra ry

tour is t a t that . , In describing his .prepavations for the tour; which

involve the contrivance of a disguise that-he 'may not be recognized by

his former pilot-house colleagues, he says: "As I proposed to take notes,

with a v iew to printing, I took some t h o u g h t as to methods of procedure" *

!, ( . 110). This note-taking and "view t o printing" determines the perspective

o f the traveller and the texture o f the journey. Details neglected on

the cub p i l o t ' s passage are now i m p ~ r t a n ~ ~ m a t e r i a l , arTd scarcely is the

tour is t underway when he begins to accumulate notice of those subtle

transi t ions which are the outward signs of mobility. hong his "notes"

'-ie finds remark of changes Oin costume, demeanour and indigenous habit

among the specimen population he encohnters along the way. He c i tes

comparative observqtions recorded in his journal:

Evenin% -- Speaking of dress. Grace and pictwesqueness drop

*a y out of i t as one travels away from New York. April 19. -- This morning struck into the region of fu l l goatees -- sometimes-accmpanIed by a mustache, b u t only occasionally. .

Afternoon. -- A t the railway stations the loafers carry b o t h hands i n thei r breeches pockets; i t was observable, heretofore, that one hand was sometimes out-of-doors -- here, never. This i s a n important fac t i n gqgraohy (pp. 110-11).

To a degree, these are mock-comparisons , inflating the progressively more

t r iv ia l to turgid dimensions. B u t they have meaning beyond, o r w i t h i n ,

the i r cmedy, for they are i n f a c t a way of describing both a social and

a physdcal geography, and a way of organizing and reporting the t ravel ler ' s 9

mgress -- ' 'Aprfl 19," "Eventng," "Afternoon" -- i n concert w i t h the - - -

envlrorment through which he travels. They also t e l l of the observer's

spectatorial d i spositton and his inquisttiveness. - The boy of twenty-one

years before "learned" the river from the standpoint of his naivety: now

th. ex~erienced tourist 1 earns his route through2 the mature. facul t y of .

his unfailing ;uriosity and his capacity to make qomparisons. Two distinct - versions of the river result , and the la te journey i s n'ever redundant and

always ex~loratorv.

!*!here the boy was self -conscious and unwi t t i n g , the 01 der travel 1 er

i s objective and methodical. His attention to "procedure" suggests to him

t h a t he adopt the att i tude of a genuine tourist -- one who takes this course . .

for the f i r s t and only time. The disguise i tself ,announces t h a t Clemens 4,

a - i s 3 different person from the on& who had years earlier faced the imnanent - *

-

crises of Fteamboatinq: he i s no lonqer a pilot b u t a passenger. (The

disauise i s eventually nenetrated by a ~ i l o t w i t h whom. he once worked,

h u t th is exposure i s only a story-fragment, and does not a l ter the narrative ?L

attitude of the l a s t two-thirds of the book.) In the role of tourist

and passenger, Clemens finds a security that was n o t a v a i l a b l e t o h i m as a

young oilot chwged w i t h hair-raising responsi b i l i t fes . The structure of

t he second part o f the text qubstantiates the confidence w i t h which he

now safely travels the river: conventional travel observations and

descrlptions ;Ire the product o f the impartial overview of a traveller '

making his way leisurely, with only.an academic interest in the sights- he

witnesses. llhere travel exposition. accrues to the narrative, the narrator ' s a

pretended innocence of river 1 i fe becomes, f o r 1 i terary purposes, a

- genuine innocence. The text then belongs t o the tourist and not tb the

erstwhile pilot. -- I t - i s full - -- - of comparative notations of typical - - - - -- . -- - - -- --- - -

phenomena, genteel olaasure i n scenery, and cursory &counts of towns and ~ e

' c i t i e s along the way. A11 of theseareman i fes ta t ionso f . the '~ tuur is t ' s "

semi bi 1 i ty. ~ v a d i n ~ the early associations t h a t once connected him so

i n t ima te l y w i th t h i s landscape, Clemens comes a t i t again, from a new

beginning.

What makes the freshness o f t h i s review so remarkable i s t h a t Clemens,

as he explains i n the f i r s t t h i r d o f the book, had once been prodigiously

f a m i l i a r w i th the r i v e r ' s most subt le f luxes and ref luxes, and w i t h the

la rges t and smallest permutations o f i t s course. The p i l o t ' s knowledge o f

the r i v e r was comprehensive t o an unthinkable degree. Now, twenty-one years

l a te r , t h i s informatton i s on ly a r e l i c . The innumerable previous t r i p s

up and down the r i v e r are superseded by the t o u r i s t ' s journey, and h i s

i n ten t i on t o publ ish it. The new knowledge, acquired i n the l e i s u r e o f

an educated overview, surpasses the o l d p rac t ica l information.

One reason why the concurrent, developing. education overrules the o l d

i s the very p a r t i c u l a r i t y and d e t a i l o f the f i r s t t rave l information, The

abiding f a c t about the Miss iss ipp i i s j u s t t ha t perpetual mutation and - change t h a t i s the r i v e r ' s d i s t i n c t i o n -- pa r t o f what makes i t " i n a11

ways remarkable," and what makes the ear ly acquaintance w i t h the r i v e r

ephemeral. L i f e on the ~ i s s f ' s s i p p i , despite i t s reconstruct ion of a

vanished mi l ieu, i s dependent on neigher nostalgia nor regre t for i t s meaning.

Only a t the s t a r t i s the contemporary t r a v e l l e r disturbed by the a1 tered

face o f the r i v e r :

I nondered if I had forgotten the r i v e r , f o r I had no r e c o l l e c t i o n r whatever of t h i s place; the shape o f the r i v e r , too, rias unfamil iar; -

./ there was nothing i n s igh t anywhere that I could remember having seen before. I was surprised, disappointed, and annoyed (p. 117).

*

In t h i s disappointment Is the seed of nostalgia, but i t i s a seed which never Q -

gentna tes i n L i f e on the Wss&ippi. The t r u l y un imp l i ca td . i nqu i r i ng

t o u r i s t (versus the devious t rave l l e r j o ~ r n e y i n ~ g from u l t e r i o r , personal

motives) w i l l be interested ra ther than disgusted by the a l l u v i a l and

economic phenomena which have 'wrought these changes. And, indeed, change

becpm<es a ,happy subject i n the text , exp l i ca t ing the r i v e r ' s usurping %

power t o eradicate landmarks and o b l i t e r a t e memorable sights, and .

describing the equal ly powerful economic t i d e t h a t has ca r r i ed o f f

picturesque activities and quaint practices. These superior forces -- 3

the economic as wel l as the f l u v i a t i l e -- are not decried but celebrated.

. (A t points, i t seems t h a t Clemens i s glad t o f i n d the r i v e r unrecognizable,

as i f he were thereby conclusively re1 ieved o f the ominous respons ib i l i t i es a

" associated w i th the p i l o t ' s i n f a l l i b l e knowledge.) The narrator i s an

op t im is t i c t ou r i s t , del ighted as much by the i ndus t r i a l advance of t h e

region as by the magnitude of . the r i v e r ' s natural energies, With expository

enthusiasm he not ices bdth natura l and h m n change: the might s h i f t s o f

the r iverbed as wel l as yarn m i l l s , i c e factor ies and sugar re f i ne r ies .

The a b i l i t y to take such a sanguine view o f change argues the nar ra to r ' s

essent ial detactnent frum the landscape he passes. The note-taking

t r a v e l l e r r#m comes from afar, twenty-one years having effected a1 1 manner

o f changes, among them the re loca t i on o f h i s own po in t o f view.

The subjects so ettgrossing t o the t u u r i s t are those which were ignored

by the cub p i l o t . Manufactories, l i n g u i s t i c anomalies and ancient a l l uv ia1 I

t ransfers k r e of no i n t e r e s t t o the adventurous apprentice, but t o the

travel _writer they a re the firundatian of hf s experience of #e rNw. These

Issues are conventional - concerns - of t rave l 1 i t e r a t u r ~ ~ 4- - -

embraces them and t h e i r t rad i t i on . I n

acquiescence i n the conventions o f the

as i t was i n Innocents ~ b ? b a d . Plcrw he

L i fe on the Miss iss ipp i h i s

genre t s no longer i r a s c i b l e mimicry

f i d s the genre and i t s obl igat ions

a comnodious vehicle, f o r the most pa r t appropriate t o h i s purposes. One i u 6.

o f the c learest evidences o f t h i s acquiescence i s the easy, companionable k

way i n which he t rave l s. w i th what he c a l l s the "ancient procession" o f

l i t e r a r y t o u r i s t s who t rave l l ed the r i v e r before him and whose wr i t i ngs

established the t r a d i t i o n w i t h i n which he now ti'avels and composes. I n .&

Innocents broad the weird 1 i tera ry presence of the correspondent Is -

predecessors exerted an in to le rab le influence and i n c i ted him t o fur ious

refutat ions. The narrator o f t rave l s was overwhelmed, suffocated, betrayed

by the re i t e ra t fons and &pet i t ions i n the genre he had taken up. Only

through r e t a l i a t o r y r i d i c u l e could he assert himself. But here, on the

Miss iss ipp i , he happi ly consorts w i th h i s generic antecedents (Mrs.

Trol lope i s one o f h i s favour i tes) , c i t i n g them w i t h pleasure and in te res t ,

and consult ing t h e i r versions o f various s i t e s i n order t o ampl i fy h i s

- om t o u r i wn. Whereas i n Europe he was res t less and agi ta ted a t p rqedent 4

-

and repet i t ion , i n America he f inds re i t e ra t fons an i nd i ca t i on o f the

coherence o f the received t rad i t i on , and contr ibutes h i s own view t o

the c o l l e c t i v e vf sion. Clemens compiles as Thoreau did, as p a r t o f the ,

making o f a t rave l book, fl

Chapter X X Y I , "Sme Imparted Ar t ic les," considers the production of

the precwlng generatf an of European tou r i s t s . Botha the d i v e r s i t y a

and u n i t y o f the specimns he c i t e s i n t e r e s t Clenrens, and he makes an

absmatton which m y partty exptatrr hfs reconc i t l a t l on to the genre , %

taeFgf W k ~ * ~ ~ ~ f w e p e : E*-w& jil those foreign b $ a a t s by these aspects [of the ~ i s s i s s i ~ ~ l ~ a were rot 2

r

a l l form& on one pattern, o f course; they - had ta &e various, along a t

f i r s t , because the e a r l f e r t o u r i s t s were obliged t o o r i g ina te t h e i r

emotions, whereas i n o lder countr ies one can always borrow emotions from

one's predecessors" (R. 133). The New World i s the a p t subject o f the 4

t r ave l genre; the Old World on ly br ings ou t the worst 04 i t -- c l ichds and

hackneyed delusions. Here, i n America, the very freshness o f the subject

rejuvenates the meaning o f the fo,m i n i t s authentic repor t of f i rsthand

discovery.

Clmens' assumptions about the genre contain the i n e v i t a b i l i t y o f i t s

eventual decadence even i n i t s New World forms. On the "Upper River" he

discharges copious demogra{hic data, deta i 1 s on settlement and industry,

and exclamatory remarks on growth and progress on the premise o f the

inherent impartanc3 o f information previously unpublished:

This region ' d e w ; so new t h a t i t may be said t o be s t i l l i n i t s babyhood ....- i s so new t h a t the foreign t o u r i s t has not heard of i t yet; and E s not v i s i t e d it. For s i x t y years the fo re ign t o u r i s t has steamed up and down the r i v e r between S t . Louis and New Orleans, and then gone Inme and w r i t t e n h i s book; be l iev ing he had seen . a l l o f the r i v e r t h a t was no r th seeing o r t ha t had anything t o see. I n not s i x o f a l l these books i s there mentiond o f these Upper-River towns -- f o r the retisbn t h a t the f i ve o r s i x t o u r i s t s who penetrated t h i s region d i d i t before these towns were p r o j e c t q . The l a t e s t t o u r i s t of them a l l (187G made the same o l d regu la t ion t r i p -- he had not heard t h a t t * re was anything nor th o f S t . Louis (p . 271).

I I

But once the " s m o l d regu la t ion t r i p " . t yp i ca l l y includes th& Upper River.

w i l l r epe t i t i ons o f t h i s mater ia l have arly l i t e r a r y value? Already .r

Clarens i s a l i t t l e res t l ess under the k g i m e ; o h h c 'ancient processlbn"

and already he begins t o s u p e c t their and uni formity. If 3

- -

perpetual advance to unr-rked frontf ers.

Clemens' idea of the genre

l i k e Thoreau, ar l i k e M e l v i l l e

i s more 1 i te ra l than t h a t o f t rave l 1 ers

i n Redburn. The l a t t e r take t h e i r t rave l s

where t k y can, cm rt k a ? +, w

port . They have no fear of

over-described i n making these s p a t i a l l y Timi ted o r tri toe sort ies, f o r they I

r e f e r t o a f i g u r a t i v e v i s i o n of t rave l narrat ion which expands any m a l l '

province t o renote f ron t i e rs . Clemens, on the other' hand, requires tha t -

the genre perform l i t e r a l l y r a t h q t h a n f i g u r a t i v e l y what it promises d

formally. The.succers o f ds t r a v e l w r i t i n g comes from t b i s tes ty <

scrupulousness i n exami nd ng every fragment o f rec-eived d i c t i o n before he

al lows i t i n t o h i s own utterance. Even as l a t e as the penultimate stages

o f the Mississippf journey, he . is nagged,by the same suspicions tha t h i s

voyage t o Hawal i &ousedr when he attempted t o descr i bed h i s sea passage

but imnediately ran up against a "threadbare" idiom. That the whole industry I .

of traveJ w r i t i n g and t rave l t a l k might be a case of a l l form and no

content f s ill u s t r a t f l by the conversation o f a f e l low-passenger, encounter- *

ed near the end of the took, who can t a l k w i th a vacuous s p e c i f i c i t y and

without intermission about -the scenery between the Thousand Islands and , "

S t . Paul. Here i s the ;elentless speaker oi the subject of a p.yramid- 5

shaped mountain whfch:l ies along -his verbal route:

' I t s coniq shape; t h k k l y wooded surface g i rd ing i t s sides, and .3

its apex IAke t h a t of a cone, cause the spectator t o wonder a t ,

nature's working. ,Frola i t s dlzzy heights superb views o f the forests, strealas, bluffs, h i l l s , and dales, below and beyond for mi les are brought w i t h i n i t s focus. What grander r i v e r scenery can be conceived, as we gaze upan t h i s enchanting landscape, fm the uppetmost -pa in t of these b lu f f s upon the va l leys below? The _C-5/

primeval ~df ldness and ' M u 1 1 0 ~ 1 fw3s ef tkse subFime creaths -

o f nature and mkr~e's God, a c d t e fee l ings of unbounded a h t r a t i o n , andithe real 1 ect tandf ~ h i c h m n e v e r h e f f a m d fkn )hCImemwy, - -

--

as we v feu then i n any d i rec t fon" (p. 276). I

The man, i t turns out, i s - a tour guide working up new mater ia l ; he has a1 so

travel led wi th a "panorama. " He i s a professional verbal izer o f t rave l ,

- - - - -

and an agent o f a l l t h a t c o l l e c t i v e migrat ion t h a t v u l g a ~ i z e d European

t rave l i n Innocents Abroad. Clemens ' parody o f the t rave l - t a l ke r I s

inundating f luency c q s so close t o the end o f the b o k tha t i t s l i g h t l y =+-

dampens every descr ip t i ve passage of the tour. Can any wr i t e r , once he takes b

up the t rave l genre, remain innocent of t h i s uninformative, uncomnun~cative

The narrator o f Innocents Abroad would rep l y i n the negative, and

f i n d o r i g i n a l i t y on ly i n the parody o f these forms outmoded by over-use.

I n L i f e on the Miss iss ippt , too, Clemens w i 11 occasional ly stem h i s own L

fluency w i t h a wedge o f r e f l e x i v e r i d i c u l e . But the book has a thematic

mainstay which Innocents Abroad does not have and which redeems even the

most conventional aspects o f Clemens' l i t e r a r y tourism and restores t o them

the o r i g i n a l d i g n i t y o f the genre. The meaning of L i fe on the Miss iss ipp i

comes p a r t l y from i t s s t ruc tura l complexity, the way i t s incorporat ion of

the many t r i p s and the s ing le tour i n t o one t e x t describes the t r a v e l l e r ' s

changed re la t ionsh ip t o the r i v e r . The twenty-one years between the p i l o t ' s

journeys and the t o u r i s t ' s t r i p are an.important face t o f ,s t ruc ture and

meaning -- s p a t i a l l y and temporally outsfde the nar ra t i ve but exert ing

an i r r e s i s t i b l e inf luence. The q u a l i t i e s which d i s t i ngu ish the memoir

o f the r i v e r from the t o u r i s t ' s account o f i t are the manifestat ion o f

those years and the differences between the two sections are c lea r enough P

t o requ i re only cursory mention 'here: the ear l i e r t rave l s are undertaken

rtbvm~r-rrusl y and spontanewsl y; the 1 a te r t rave l s metWf c a l l y and

the view i s c lose and int imate; the l a t e r tour attempts a mare 'detached

but also m r e comprehensive outlook. The focug o f the f i r s t sect ion i s

i n i t i a l l y personal and dramatic; the focus o f the second d i f f u s e and

expository. The cub p i l o t cares not a straw f o r indigenous l i n g u i s t

c haracterf s t i c s or the technology o f sugar-refining; the accompl i shed

t o u r i s t f i nds both phenomena noteworthy. Bridging the d i s p a r i t i e s i s

the na r ra to r - t rave l l e r himself, the man who made the journeys ea r l y and

l a t e . He constructs the past w i t h h i s memoir, but i n p ro jec t i ng ' t he

present he f tnds the s i t e o f ea r l y experience a f resh f i e l d , and goes

sightseeing w i th a l l the innocence and forward thoughts o f the t o u r i s t

en route, unimpeded by o ld associations. And i t i s the prac t ice o f t ravel -- w i t i n g -- note-taking and rebust c u r i o s i t y -- t h a t expresses t h i s newness,

o r perhaps creates the newness. a>

There i s some poignancy i n the conclusiveness o f the. t rave l s t ructure

o f L i f e on the Mississippi , as f t expresses formal ly the change t h a t has

occurred i n the speaker's po in t o f view. What was' once known w i th profound

f a m f l i a r i t y has become unfamil iar. Clemens comes from another place now,

and he maintains the distance between himself and h i s subject by prac t is ing

the conventions o f t rave l narrat ive: the r i v e r i s a sightseer 's subject

ra ther than a hero ' s set t ing; i t i n e r a r y structures impressions; data i s

co l lec ted methodically w i th a view t o i t s publ ic value; compilat ion and

consul t a t i o n o f other t rave l t ex ts a1 1 i es the narrator w i t h fore ign t o u r i s t s

and 'observers. Even the m e n l a i r speaks for the distance which now separates

Clemens from the r i v e r : the young man's c lose knowledge o f the Mississippi i

i s now obsolete. The tour o f 1882 and Clemens' account o f i t are a gesture + 4

of e x t r k a t i o n frm t h h k a l e , e f fec t i ng a 1 i t e r w y reso lu t i on t o the . .

anx iet ies and dread inc ident t o h i s ea r l y experience o f r i v e r life.)>/) L'

L i f e on the Mississippi , Clemens constructs a new r e l a t i o n t o the r i v e r .

As a composed and observant passenger, he t rave ls safe ly now, f ree o f crr the f a t a l invotvements and catastrophic in t imat ions o f h i s e a r l f e r career.

L ike Clemens, W i 11 iam Dean Howel 1 s began h i s t rave l w r i t i n g career

as a correspondent:6 i n 1860 hedjourneyed from Ohio t o New England, New

York and Niagara, and h i s t rave l l e t t e r s were published i n the Cincinnat i -- Gazette- and the Ohfa State.Jotrma1. 'His f i r s t book, however, was a 4 t o 1 m e o f Europ'5an t rave l sketches which appeared se r ia l 1 y i n the Boston

Advert iser before they were c a l l ected and pub1 ished as Venetian L i f e i n

1866: L l ke Howel 1 s t subsequent Ital i a n Journeys - (1867), Venetian L i f e

i s a f luent , sty1 i s h book, composed i n the conventional manner o f t rave l

memoir. I t i s i n te res t i ng t o us here i n i t s re la t ionsh ip t o Howells'

long,- p a r t l y f i c t i o n a l narrat ive, The.ir Wedding Journey (1871) and i t s

sequel, A Chance Acquaintance (1873), both o f which are se t i n North v

America, Through the t rave l genre Howell s made h i s way i n t o novel -wr i t ing.

Howel 1s was American consul i n Venice from 1861 t o 1864. His complete

account o f h is sojourn there appeared i n the same year Samuel Clemens

embarked for Europe, and the two wr i ters , who each began t h e i r 1 i t e r a r y

e careers i n the t rave l genre, shared s q e ins igh ts i n t o th@ nature o f t rave l

and i t s ~ i t e r a t u r e . ~ From the s ta r t , c l a n k was aware of the a r t i f i c e

involved i n perpetuating what t a him had become an obsolete t rad i t i on ; he B.

expressed t h i s awareness through parody and bur l esque of i t s convehtions.

Howells, however, was i n i t i a l l y comfortable i n the genteel convent ional i ty

o f h i s mode i n Venetian L i f e and I t a l i a n Journeys. But when, f o r t y years

l a t e r , he came t o rev ise the b o o i f o r l a t e r edi t ions, he found the same,

pretent ious a f fec ta t ions i n h i s own w r i t i n g tha t Clemens deplored i n the

shopworn r n m f r s o f -lesser tou r i s t s . On looking over Venetian L i f e , he

found tha t he was "sometimes n i l 1 ing t o he1 p myself mtt from the con- ,=/

vent ional lzed sum o f others ' impressions, and *ass o f f the r e s u l t t o

the reader as an o r i g i n a l e f f e c t i n myself."' When he introduces h i s

rev i s ion o f I t a l fan Journeys, he says: " i t seemed t o me tha t I was aware

of posing, of s t ra in ing , even, i n some o f my a t t i tudes , and I had a sense

o f having put on more a i r s than I could handsomely carry, and of 'having

a t lother times assumed an omniscience f o r which I can now f i n d no reason-

a b l e grounds. "lo Howel 1 s found h i s "1 i terary" pose almost embarrassing1 y

evident i n these exp&ssions o f h i s younger s e l f , and he expunged the most

offensive instances fm the l a t e r ed i t ions.

But insofar as t h i s r e v i s i o was more than a mere tampering w i t h P sentences, and involved a re - th ink ing and re-creaf ing , Howel 1 s had begun

rev i s ing h i s t rave l a r t long before the 1907 e d i t i o n o f Venetian L i f e and

the 1901 e d j t i o n o f I t a l ian Journeys. I n Their Wedding Journey, the

f i c t i o n 1 character izat ion o f the b r i da l couple o f ten coincides w i th the 5 t rave l l e r ffoweils appeared t o be dur ing h i s I t a l i a n sojourn, but the narrator

o f the journey has detached himself from t h e i r fulsome tourism t o take-an

ob jec t ive and m i l d l y i r o n i c a l view o f the whole a c t i v i t y o f popular t rave l .

Cl emens observed the conventional i t i e s and cbmmonplace a t t i t udes o f

bourgeois toufism w i th s a t i r e and r i d i c u l e ; Howells was less l i k e l y t o

der ide the c m n man i n h i s comnon enterprises, and chose ra ther t o - represent him i n a l l h i s averige propensit ies. This he d i d when he set

Howell s ' i n t e r e s t i n detect ing coherent character types -- an i n t e r e s t

which led eventual ly t o the so-called psychological real ism o f h fs l a t e r

fkttm -- may have pr&ted trts European assQnment, but f f i f dTd not,

-. h i s 1 i t e r a r y experience i n organizing h i s observations o f Old World

society could wel l have k e n the basis for the aesthet ic which would preside

over h i s f i c t i o n . Venetian L i f e i s comprised mostly of general izat ions

based on h i s i ns igh t i n t o t h i s fo re ign society and, i n the t rave l t r a d i t i o n ,

confers on the w r i t e r omniscience and au tho r i t y i n making broad observations.

From his balcomy on the Grand Canal Howells witnesses an endless stream

of f igures who are f i n a l l y so predic table i n t h e i r costume and 7 . demeanour '.% -

that' t h e i r descr ip t ion verges on car icature. Howells remains poised there,

i s balcony, r a p t l y accumulating the data tha t w i l l conform i n quick,

i s e social po r t ra i t s :

i n the hours j u s t before the sumner t w i l i g h t the gondolas o f the c i t i zens appear, and ... looking down upon the groups i n the open gondolas you may witness wneth ing of the home 1 i f e o f the I t a l i ans , who 1 i v e out-of-doors.

The groups do not vary a great deal one from the other: i n e v i t - ab ly the pale-faced papa, the f a t mama, the over-dressed handsome young g i r l s (p. 118).

The i n v a r i a b i l i t y o f these exemplary groups substantiates Howel 1 s ' version

of l i f e i n Venice, g i v ing i t an a i r of au then t i c i t y pecul iar- t o the

generalizations t r a v e l l e r s are 1 i kely t o make about the features o f a fo re ign B

society. As a newcomer, Honells i s concerned w i t h develooing a cogent view

o f the social order and w i th ascertaining the t r a i t s o f each class. But

not on ly the Venetians are susceptible t o h i s a loo f scrut iny, f o r Howells '

soon learns t o d i s t i ngu ish the charac ter is t i cs which t y p i f y the n a t i o n a l i t i e s

o f fore ign tou r i s t s . I n a coy descr ip t i ve maneouvre, he offers the k ind

o f knowledge tha t Venetian cats, res ident i n churches v i s i t e d by sightseers,

might acquire o f the a t t r i b u t e s o f t rave l l e rs : 0

I fancy, being In ta l i an cats, they fee? something l i k e a nat ional ant ipathy toward those troops o f German tou r i s t s , who always seek

t he Sehenswrdigkeiten i n companies o f ten o r twenty, -- the men w e a r m $ a r d s and the women t h e i r hoops and hats t o look

The

wor

as much l i k e Engl l s h people as possible.. . .these wise cats know the rea l Engl ish by t h e i r "Murrays;" and I thfnk they make a shrewd guess a t the n a t i o n a l i t y o f us Americans by the speed w i th which,we pass from one th ing t o another, and by our nat ional ignorance o f a l l languages but English. They must a lso hear us vaunt the super ior i ty o f our own land i n unpleasant comparisons, and I do not t h ink they bel ieve us, o r l i k e us, f o r our boasting .... The French t o u r i s t they d is t ingu ish by h i s evident scepticism concerning h i s own wisdom i n q u i t t i n g Paris f o r the present purpose; and the t r a v e l l i n g I t a l l a n , by h i s a t ten t i on t o h i s badly dressed, handsome wife, w i th whom he i s now making h i s wedding t r i p (p. 155).

I c e r ta in t y HoweTl s fee l s i n recognizing nat ional types supports a C.,,

Id-view organized on pr inc ip les o f sat iency. Those character i s t i cs

qu ick ly d iscern ib le by a r m t e l y - s i tuated

c a t h d r a l o r a consul on a balcony) not on

but also provide i t s unequivocating acu i ty

out o f t h i s method: when Howell s describes

spectator (a c a t i n a

l y are s u f f i c i e n t f o r a sketch

. Some f i n e fragments come

household pract ices i n general B

and h i s own domest ic i ty i n pa r t i cu la r , he provides a d e l i g h t f u l p o r t r a i t

o f Giovanna, h i s housekeeper, and, w i th a s k i l f u l stroke, the weird

prox imi ty o f Giovanna's mother -- "a dread and l o a t h l y o l d lady, whom we

comnonly encountered a t n igh t fa l l i n our s t reet , where she l a y i n wait, as

i t were, t o prey upon the fragrance o f dinner d r i f t i n g from the ki tchen of ' '

b

our ne ighbur , the Duchess o f Parma" (p. 107). , I

Venetian L i f e , however, i s a book o f div ided purpose. On the one

hand i s the earnest motive of the sensi t ive tou r i s t , the young man who

consults Ruski n t o feel an appropr iately 1 i terary response. This ' t ravel - 1 er f

i s susceptible t o every suggestion, r i p e f o r the fus ion of mind and loca le

t h a t e f feb ts the profound t ranspor tat ion o f serious t ravel , and he i s a t

times as imaginat ively contemplative as W i l l iam Beckford. As h i s gondol i e r /- 4 A

F4 yf

4f

propel 1 s him through

by the other-worldly

h i s f i r s t Venetian n ight , Howells i s ca r r i ed away

impl icat ions o f the s i t e :

I have no doubt i t was a proper t ime t o th ink a l l the fan tas t i ca l th ings i n the world, and I thought them; but they passed vaguely through my mind, without i n te r rup t i ng the sensations o f s igh t and sound. The past and present mixed there, and the moral and mater ia l were b len t i n t he sentiment of u t t e r novelty and surprise. The quick boat s l i d through o l d troubles o f mine, and unlooked-for events gave i t the impulse t h a t car r ied +t beyond, and safe ly around sharp corners o f l i f e , A l l the whi le I knew t h a t t h i s was a --pro- gress through narrow and crooked canals, and past marble angles of c

palaces. But I d i d not know then tha t my f i n e confusion o f sense and s p i r i t was the f i r s t f a i n t in t imat ion o f the cham o f l i f e i n Venice (pp. 20-21).

'opposite t h i s romantical involvement i s the o b j e c t i v i t y and c r i t i c a l

detachment o f a t r a v e l l e r not 1 i k e l y t o be car r ied away by a " f i n e con-

fusion o f sense and s p i r i t . " This t r a v e l l e r sets out t o disabuse h i s

audience o f romantic misconceptions which, he says, are the substance o f

o f most t o u r i s t memoirs o f Venice. I n order t o ex t r i ca te himself from

t h i s t rad i t i on , h6 inqui res i n t o the h i s t o r i c a l bpsis f o r the rumured

careers o f the c i t y ' s palaces and places, researching ehch case o f putat ive

a t r o c i t y or c i v i c crime, and o f ten f irtdir ig t h a t a s i t e ' s heinous

reputat ion i s on ly a Gothic fabr ica t ion , engendered t o appease the

sightseer 's appet i te fo r horror and pathos. He warns his-audience: " i f

'the reader cares t o f o l l o w me t o my stage-box, I imagine he w i l l hardly

see the cu r ta in r i s e upon j u s t thg Venice o f h i s dreams, -- the Venice o f

Byron, of Rogers, and Cooper; o r upon the Venice o f h4s prejudices, -- the

merciless Venice o f Daru, and-of the h is tor ians who fo l l ow him. But I

st411 hope he w i l l be pleased d t h the ~ e n i c e he sees...." (p. 3) The

appeal o f the Venice Howells does expose l i e s i n i t s exposi tor 's devotion +

t o rea l i s t i c f i rs thand descr ipt ion. This imnediate, contemporary c i t y i s

represented ma te r ia l l y through a survey of the fo r l o rn decay o f i t s

economy and d i l a p i d a t e d archi tecture, and s o c i a l l y through the class

types Howells dist inguishes among i t s population.

I n Venetian L i f e i s a chapter t i t l e d "Society." Supporting such an

encompassing heading .are two)ssmnptions: f i r s t , t h a t the perceptive a l i e n 1

i s i n a pos i t ion t o make observations and generalizations necessby t o

such a discussion, and, second, t h a t the %have1 w r i t e r ' s home audience w i l l I 4

be in terested i n and s a t i f f l e d w i t h the t;uth o f the broad categories

which resu l t . Their Wedding Journey proceeds from s im i la r pretexts -- whtch are essent ia l l y the assumptions behind the social c m e n t a r y o f

mast t rave l w r i t i n g -.- a1 though i t i s America and not Europe which under-

goes the t rave l 1 er.'s speculative observations. 11

I n Their Wedding Journey, Howells does not dismiss sentimental

responhveness from the t ravel narrat ive; i t i s s t i l l a b ent ra l aspect o f

t rave l , but now a l located t o the f i c t i o n a l character izat ions o f Basi l

and Isabel Marctr. And, as w i th M e l v i l l e ' s gradual t r a n s i t i o n from the

t rave l genre'to the novel, ,Howell s t f i r s t gestures towards novel i s t i c form

f i c t i m a l i z e the t r a v e l l e r before tampering w i th h i s i t i n e r a r y . I n TheSr

Wedding Journey, scene i s s t i l l much more than an adapted se t t i ng o r context

f o r act ion; i t dominates the narrat ive, supplying sequence and motive as

wel l as the kind o f l n s t r u c t i v e information t h a t the t rave l w r i t e r t y p i c a l l y

conveys t o h i s audience. * I n A Chance Acquatntance, Howell$' a r t completes C

the s h f f t from journey nar ra t ive t o novel form: t h e t rave l l oca t i on

recedes & setting, and itinerary i s e n t i r e l y subordinated t o the f i c t i o n a l

. t rave l 1 k ' ~ , p l o t t e d actions.

Howells' announcement of h i s aesthet ic in tent ion, made i n the f i r s t

r

388

.d - - -

paragraph o f - Their Wedding Journey, sets out the province of his composition.

He marks the boundaries of t h i s territory w i t h a n almost defensive

specificity, as i f to protect i t from the encroachments of novelistic

expectations which might be aroused by the introduction of fiction into

travel narrative. Thus he reiterates the of trhvel writing for

an audience undoubtedly familiar with i t s precepts: "I am persuaded that

a skilful1 romancer could t u r n the courtship of Basil and Isabel March t o

excellent account. Fortunately for me, however, i n attGpting to te l l the

reader of 'the wedding journey of a newly marrf ed couple, no longer very

ywng, to be sure, b u t s t i l l fresh in the light of their love, I shall

,, / a h nothing to do b u t talk of some ordinary t r a i t s of American l i f e as

these appeared to t h e m , to speak a l i t t le - of well-known and easily

accessible places, to present now a b i t of landscape and now a sketch of

character. "I2 Howells holds to this particular distinctibn between the

practices of romancer and travel writer, and discloses 1 i t t l e of the

circumstances of the Marches' courtship and mating -- alrhst as l i t t l e as

he divulges of his own consular act ivi t ies i n Venetian L4f'e. - In both cases,

rice on such matters observes conventions o f admissfbil i t y unique

to the %ravel genre: disclosures of the travel 1 e r ' s mental i t y and imaginr

ation during the journey are penni tted through e ~ f r a ~ o l a t i o n , digression i

and meditation, but references to the travelPerls past or future are

generally inadmissible! His ordinary, sedentary attacbnents and activit ies, G

and the more involved aspects of identf ty are suspended once he departs +

and assumes the hwe3 ler 's p?aee. Their Weeding Journey trespasses

marginally on these restrictions by alludfng to events antecedent t o the a

journey and by re-routing the Marches over their original course twelve

years a f t e r h e i r first t r i p , as a conc lus im t o t h e narrat iue. A t these a points t h e 4 f i c h f Their Wedding Journey exerts strong nove l i s t i c

t '\!

pressures on the text , requ i r ing explanation beyond the i t i n e r a r y f o r

ac t ion and suggesting outcomes beyond the temporal reference o f the journey.

But f o r the most pa r t these pressures are resisted, and Their Wedding

Journex i ~ q r i n c i p a l l y a t rave l book. The centra l characters are t rave l l e rs

mreDthan they are anything else, and the reader learns o f t h e i r

temperaments and s e n s i b i l i t i e s through t h e i r sightseeing and i t i n e r a n t

observations. Just as the t rave l memoirs he had w r i t t e n f o r t y years

ear l i e r revealed t o Howells h i s own youthfu l personal i t y when he re-read

them, so the nar ra t i ve o f the Marches' journey discovers t h e i r characters.

Howell s i s aware of the conv&tional i ty o f the t r i p the newlyweds

w i l l make: i n fo l lowing t h e i r course he w i l l make no mater ial discoveries

d but w i l l describe "well-known and e a s i l y accessible places, and the

Marches ni l 1 encounter no exot ic phenomena but on ly "some ordinary t r a i t s

o f American 1 i f e . " The average journey undertaken by t yp i ca l t rave l 1 ers

thus promises broad t ruths. Hawells -- and the Marches -- are unem-

barrassed by thexcomnonplace route; rather, they are inspi red by i t s

t y p i c a l i t y . And Basi l .and 1sabe1, by v i r t u e o f t h i s mainstream mobi l i t y ,

are i n an advantageous pos i t ion t o remark s la ien t nat ional character is t ics .

Having l e f t home, they become spectators, j u s t as Howells becomes an

observer o f Venetian l i f e from h i s balcony on the Grand Canal. The

observations made by these uninvolved witnesses have an inherent legi t imacy

about them. RoweTTsr remarks on generaT aspects o f Venetian society are

factual , and what he sets before Basi l and Isabel has the same imputed

au thent ic i t y . I n t h i s respect, Their Wedding Journey has an a i r o f

documentary. . But i n t h a t the t e x t i s a travel. book w i th a strong f i c t i o n a l

- -

component, i t s social cannentary nears the complementary novel 4 s t i c mode

o f rea l ism.

The b r ida l couple, as t rave l le rs , are which Howells

expressqs fragments o f h i s own social v is ion. ~ ; r i n ~ t h e i r tour they are

whole-heartedly witnesses o f the general run o f manners and behaviour. As

t h e i r journey begins, so coAmences the procession o f humours and types

tha t fellow-passengers provide f o r the a t ten t i ve journey-maker. Basi l -and R

Isabel take account 6f the social array about them:

So the p lay o f which they were both actors and spectators went on about them. L i ke a l l passages o f l i f e , i t seemed now a grotesque mystery, w i th a b l u n t l y enforced moral, now a farce o f the broadest* now a l a t e n t tragedy folded i n the disguises o f comedy. A l l the elements-, indeed o f e i t h e r were a t work there, and t h i s was but one b r i e f scene o f the imnense complex drama which was t o proceed so var ious ly i n such d i f f e r e n t times and laces, and t o have i t s dbnouement only i n e t e r n i t y (pp. 85-86 f .

Howel 1 s here expresses an important p r i m i p l e o f t rave l experience, namely,

the sense o f fragmentary drama t h a t emerges out o f the b r i e f , passing view

of the human landscape. It i s an i n c i p i e n t story-making, and a recurr ing

dimension of t rave l w r i t i n g i n the nineteenth century. I n Susanna Moodie's

L i f e i n the Clearings, f o r instance, i t resu l t s i n the sketch -- sentimental

speculation o r anecdote inspi red by small evidence remarked on the way t o

Niagara. The basis f o r speculation can be sound o r fl imsy: Howells checks

h i s own protagonists i n some unfounded speculations on the character of a

shabbily dressed y w n g man on the Hudson RIver boat. But what these

speculat ims have in c m m n 1s-the very r e s t r i c t e d or minimal contact

the t r a v e l l e r has w i th the object o f h i s analysis. Basi l and Isabel, whi le

not markedly ant i -soc ia l , w a g e in . few transactions w i th fe l l ow t r a v e l l e r s

-- so few, i n fac t , t h a t i t seems t h a t contact w i th the subjects o f t h e i r

speculations would compromise the i m p a r t i a l i t y of t h e i r outlook, and reduce

--- - & - - A - ---A

391, ' - *

-- -

ra ther than expand the basis o f t h e i r knowledge. Howells himself had no

contact whatsoever w i t h the ind iv idua ls i n the passing parade on the Grand

\ Canal, y e t h i s confidence i n the justness o f h i s observations was unqual i f ied.

S imi lar ly , the "ordinary t r a i t s o f American 1 i f e " are m s t acute ly

apprehended by the uninvolved spectator. .

Certain perceptual habi ts o f the Marches are p a r t o f the f i c t i o n ! .

Howell s makes and do not contr ibute t o nar ra t i ve omniscience. For one \

thing, they have a' "wi l l ingness t o f i n d poetry i n ;he things around them"

(P. 367) which a l l i e s then w i th t h e v p a r t o f Howells which was f a n t a s t i c a l l y -

transported by h i s a r r i v a l i n Venice. And Basi'l himself resembles the A

intense young t o u r i s t t h a t an o lder Howells discovered i n h i s own memoirs.

On a previous t r i p , Basi l kept a journal , which Isabel reads aloud f o r *

&@

t h e i r present amusement: "It was, t o be sure, a sad farrago o f sentiment / r

about the v i l l a g e and the r u r a l sights, and especia l ly a J $ i r l tossing hay

i n a f i e l d . Yet i t had touches o f nature and rea1ity;and Basi l could

not u t t e r l y despise himself f o r having wr i t t en it" ($. 318). On the

l a t e r tour, Basi l i s less sentimental, but s t i l l a ra ther de l ibera te

journeynaker . Having read Parkman's h i stor ies, he comes upon ce r ta in

s i t e s i n a s ta te o f heightened preparedness. The preparat ion does not

cons t i t u te prejudice, f o r i t i s fac tua l infortna'tion t h a t Basi l manivpulates,

but i t does d i s t r a c t him from the-actual g i s t o f the journey. As the

b a t nears Huntreal:

Basi l had hoped t o ape roach th i s famous c i t ~ w i t h j u s t a s s a c i a ~ o n s . He had meant t o conjure f o r Isabef's sake some re f l ex , hawever fa in t , o f t h a t beaut i fu l p i c tu re Mr . Parkman has painted o f Maisonneuve founding and consecrating Montreal. He f lushed w i t h the reco l l ec t i on o f the h i s to r i an ' s phrase; but i n t h a t moment there came f o r t h from the cabin a p r e t t y young person who gave every token o f being a p r e t t y young actress. . . ( p . 240).

6

.. _L ---- I -- , A

-- -

- 1

I * *,I -

The actress captures Basil's attention -- a@ rveryone eke's -- w i t h , . Ci

a wise-crack that obl iterates his l o f t y pr~ject : '~ ' the noble hiotoricrl *

shades of Basil 's thought v&riish& in wounded dignity beymd, recall , and - - I . - c a p

left h i m fe'elfng rather ashaied, -- f i r he had laughed too" (pp. 241-42). '

*= A

For the narrator, the true documentary interest of this stage of the , *

% G =, 4 .

journey i s the actress' witticism; Basil's inte_n_tl"onal sense of- t h ~ - - -

momen: was off-centre. r ,"

A t other times, t m , his learnedness appears as a mild form of

affectation. Some pertinent historical ideas occur to Basil in Montreal,

evoking images of Champlain and Cartier and the ancient drama of discovery.

B u t , when he paints "a semblance of all this for Isabel," other, more

inmediate information enters the narrative, t h a t i s , Basil's tendency

t o instruct his bride. Perhaps neither issue -- Champlain's encampment * or Basil's pedantry -- dominates the other, b u t for Howells a t this point

both are germane. I n A Chance Acquaintance, the "historian's phrase"

i s plainly not pertinent. Narrative structure is there so novelistic

as t o make the courses of early discoverers irrelevant, scarcely a faint

adumbration of present events.

In his travel habits, Basil i s not a m l o u s . On the contrary, he and

Isabel are typical, and their tour i s i t ie l f conventional and regular: they

hqve, after a l l , undertaken thef r journey "in the spi r i t of ordinary C

herican travel " (p. 102). Repeatedly they execute s w e predictable regimen, - - - -

as, for exampie, i n Q u e b ~ : "As in other shun ci t ies , there i s a routfne

a t Quebec f o r travellers who cme on Saturday and go on Mnday, and few

depart from it. Our friends necessarily, therefore, drove f i r s t to the

citadel" ( p . 291). Plainly, Basil and Isabel will not be among the "few"

who depart from the mn, and Hclwells i s not interested in t h a t adventumus

minority. The dtinerary i t s e l f i s a model of average tourism, and a t

Yiagara the couple comes upon numerous instantes of t h e i r own newly-

married s t a t e . k --

What happens to travel narrat ive when the outcome of each sightseeing 2"-

sequence i s en t l re ly conventional and foreseeable i n every d e t a i l ? For

Clmens, t ha t degree o f predic tab i l i ty was insupportable and ludicrous.

For Howells, however, i t ca r r i e s i t s own' i n t r i n s i c i n t e r e s t , bound up w i t h

a concern f o r average patterns of exper%ence which elevate "ordinary

American t ravel" to a level of l i t e r a r y in t e res t . Howells' aes the t ic

construes the genre fn a new way: where the travel genre orlginirl ly

mi sed fabulous di scovery and revel a t ion a a w e l 1 s requires only _,'-

exemplary instances of the comnonplace. &Where the extraordinary and

the exotic once wereasought; Howells seeks the ordinary. In the

long-run, the travel genre in i t s purest design cannot support the P

. ~ u r ~ o s e s of an aes the t ic l i k e Howells' . B u t i n the meantime, in heir Wedding J o u r n x , the genre s t i l l has

i t s uses, mostly a t t r ibu tab le t o the u t t e r conventionality i t had assumed'

by the l a s t half of the nineteenth century. A t Niagara, Basil and Isabel ---&

oer form the most l i ke ly se r i e s o f awe-struck devotions and amazed-

a~preciattons o f the Fa l l s . They mpl'oy every f a c i l i t y provided for

get t ing a good look a t the ca t a rac t , and they a r e almost unconcerned by

the groups of wedding c o u ~ l e f they encounter a t every t u r n , performing the

same &wvames. The na r r a to r describes thefr response t o the s u b t h e

They remembered afterwards hon they were ab le t o make use of b u t one sense a t a time-, and hdw when they strove t o take i n the forms of the descendtrsg f l m d , they ceased .to hear S t ; but a s soon as they

released t h e i r eyes from t h i s service, every f i b r e i n them v ibrated tQ the W,-ml the spectacle dis&v& away in f t . They were aware, too, o f a strange capriciousness i n t h e i r senses, and o f a tendency o f each t o pa l te r w i th the things perceived. The eye could no longer take t r u t h f u l note o f qua1 i ty, and now beheld the tumbl ing deluge as a Gothic wal l o f carven marble, white, motionless, and now as a f a l l o f l i g h t e s t snod, w i th movement i n a l l i t s atoms, and scarce so much cohesion as would hold them together; and again they could not discern i f t h i s course were above o r from beneath, whether the water rose from the abyss o r dropped from the height. The ear could g ive the bra in no

e sound t h a t f i l l e d it, and whether i t were great o r l i t t l e ; e p reva i l i ng softness o f the cataract 's tone seemed assurance P so much opposed t o ideas o f prodigious force o f prodigious volume. I t was on ly when the sight, so i d l e i n i t s own behalf, came t o the a i d o f the other sense, and showed them the mute movement o f each o ther 's l i p s , t h a t they dimly appreciated t h depth o f the sound t h a t ' involved them (p. 158).

I n t h i s passage there i s a nar ra t i ve presence which descr ip t ion

o f the operation o f the Marches' senses -- namely,

In sp i te of t h e - f i c t i o n a l components o f t h i s narrat ive, And i t s concern

w i th tourism rather than,the tour, vestiges o f the t r a v e l l e r ' s f i rs thand

experience pers is t . Here, the F a l l s themselves are important -- the

shape and e f fus ion o f the f lood, the precise q u a l i t y o f audible turbulence -- and Howells i s as much in terested i n the accuracy o f h i s repor t as i n -.

the b r ida l p a i r and t h e i r sightseeing. A t other points i n the tex t , Howells

intercedes even more d i r e c t l y , as i f there were a residue o f pressing ,

scenic mater ial not accessible through h i s characters ' experience and

expressible only through the voice o f the t rave l w r i t e r himself.

Two actual journeys under1 i e the f i c t i o n a l journey o f the Marches.

1860, Howells had toured Niagara, and dispatched repor ts o f h i s journey *

Ohio newspapers, and i n 1871, during the summer p reced ing the composition

Their Wedding Journey, he made an excursion w i t h h i s family from

Boston t o Niagara and Quebec. These f i rs thand experiences exer t pressure

on the f i c t i o n a l rendering of the journey, and, dur ing the passage through ,.,

b

the Mohawk Valley, b l l s ~ .own feel ing for the seme Breaks through the

nar ra t i ve s t ructure developed t o repor t the Marches' tour : "It i s a

landscape t h a t I grea t l y love for i t s M i l d beaqty U.- and t ranqu i l picturesque-

ness, and i t i s i n honor o f our fr iends t h a t I shy they enjoyed i t" (p. 102). f

Here i t ' i s evident t ha t Basi l and Isabel are surrogate t o u r i s t s and t h a t

Howells' character izat ion o f them i s a device through which he organizes

h i s own t rabel experience. For the most p a r t they are adequate t o the

purpose, but i n the Mohawk Val ley t h e i r author temporari ly abandons them.

He postulates. a mental s o r t i e i n t o the landscape, speculat ive ly introducing

himself i n t o it: "as the t r a i n s t r i ves fur ious ly onward amid these scenes

o f f e r t i t - i t v and abundance, I l i k e i n fancy t o l o i t e r behind it, and t o

saunter a t w i l l up and down the landscape" (pp. 103-04). Qudbec s i m i l a r l y

engages Howel 1 s ' sensi b i l i ty, but without affording the same opportuni t ies B

f o r nar ra t i ve digression. By t h i s po in t Basi l and Isabel are becoming

f u l l y - rea l ized characters, commanding much more of the nar ra t i ve than

formerly, and t h e i r presence permits fewer of the excursive constructions

t h a t can render scene i n t rave l li t e r a t u k . ) ~ s they pass vo lubly from one '

s i t e t o another, responding t o the degrees o f foredgnness they witness, loca le

begins t o have 1 ess and less p r i o r i t y i n %he text . The excursive mood o f

scenic descr ipt ion, which a1 1 owed Howel 1 s ' ramble through the Mohawk

pastorale, i s f o r f e i t e d i n the in te res ts o f some l a t e n t n o v e l i s t i c concerns

which requi re a t i gh te r , less excursive structure.

It i s a t t h i s po in t t ha t the El l isons -- a t r a v e l l i n g par ty f i r s t zt

encountered a t Niagara and destined t o become the centra l f igures o f &

Chance Acquaintance -- begin t o impinge more frequent ly on the Marches' P

hol iday. And, as exchanges w i t h the E l 1 i sons become m r e regular and

extensive, Basil and Isabel 'begin t o g ive up some o f the speculative

pr iv i leges o f t rave l l e rs w i th regard t o t h e i r new f r iends. They begin

t o know too much o f the E l l i sons t o mere1 o r t y p i f y t h e i r

apparent characters . W i t h the advent of tended knowaedge on the

par t o f h i s characters, Howell s veers o f f t h p i stem01 ogical

p r inc ip les o f the t rave l l e r ' s detached view o f things, and edges towards

the novel i s t i c version o f t rave l the comprises A Chance Acquaintance.

Whereas i n Their Wedding Journey Howell s assigned the s to ry o f 4

Basi l and Isabel 's courtship t o a " s k i l f u l 1 romancer," i n A Chance

Acquaintance he s h i f t i h i s j u r i s d i c t i o n and takes up the s to ry o f the

unsuccessful cour t ing of K i t t y E l 1 ison, an un t rave l l ed but we1 1 -read g i r l

from up-state New York, by M r . Arbuton, a we1 1 - t ravel1 ed and sophisticated

Bostonian making a tour o f French Canada. A t the same time, however, t h i s

s h i f t i n nar ra t i ve j u r i s d i c t i o n does not signal a rad ica l break from the

volume which f i r s t introduced K i t t y , and her cousin and h i s wife, for

A Chance Acquaintance develops out o f the t rave l s i t u a t i o n o f Their

Wedding Journey. K i t t y and Arbuton are revealed through t h e i r ind iv idua l

methods of sightseeing, and t h e i r disparate mental t t i e s are f i r s t shown

by the discrepancy between t h e i r responses t o important s ights i n Quhbec V

and the surrounding countryside. K i t t y l s rejection o f Arbuton's s u i t i s ,

i n one sense, her recogni t ion o f the incompat ib i l i t y o f t h e i r t rave l ~ 3 . a.

temperaments.

I n her un t rave l l ed inexperience, K i t t y A innocent ly and spontaneously

responsive t o Quhbec's foreignness. #;'is moved and touched by every . .

aspect o f i t s exotle- =&racter. ~ r b t k o n , on the other had, knows the a

superior foreignness o f Europe, and, moreover, consul t s an i n f l ex i b l e - 2 , = ?

' standard o f tas te which prevents him from sharing K i t t y ' s vivacious enjoy-

ment 07 ~uhbec. Early i n the narrat ive, Arbuton's response t o the sub1 ime

i n North American scenery a l e r t s the reader t o f laws i n h i s s e n s i b i l i t y :

"Mr . Arbuton.. .did have an object ion t o the exaggerations o f nature on

t h i s continent, and secre t ly thought them i n bad taste, but he had never

formulated t h i s fee l ing. "I3 Later, i n Quebec, K i t t y ' s own enthusiasm f o r

every revealed qua1 i t y o f t h i s hol iday -- inc luding bad cathedral a r t and

the v i v i d g r a f f i t t i on the wal ls o f the c i tade l -- i s curtai4ed once she

becomes aware of her companion's app l ica t ion of h i s d iscr iminat ing tas te

t o everything they see:

they walked i n s i lence t o the gate, whence they s t r o l l e d down the winding s t ree t outside the wal l i n t o the Lower Town. But i t was not a pleasant ramble f o r K i t t y : she was i n a dim dread o f h i t he r to unseh and unimagined trespasses against good taste, not on ly i n p ic tures and people, but i n a l l 1 i f e ; which, from having been a a very smi l ing prospect when she set out w i t h M r . Arbuton, had suddenly become a narrow pathway. . . . (p. 115-16).

". LP

The mora.1 dimension o f K i t t y E l 1 i son ' s t rave l education draws her

i n t o an emergent t r a d i t i o n o f American f i c t i o n which introduce New World

innocence i n t o the compl In The P o r t r a i t o f a 7

3'

the s u i t o f an unnatura l ly know1 edgeable and experienced tou r i s t , G i l be r t

Osmond, and then f i nds herse l f i r r e v e r s i b l y stranded i n an awesomely foreign

s i tua t ion . But there i s an e a r l i e r t rad i t i on , antecedent t o A Chance t

Acquaintance, which Kit ty ' s experience re i t e ra tes . Frances Brooke's

Emily Montague,more than a century e a r l i e r , set down young lovers i n

Quiibec, and gave them j u s t t h e t o s o r t out t h e i r preferences and attachments/ r - 3h

before dispatching t h m home again. I n tha t book, too, the unacceptable

s u i t o r ' s def ic ienc ies are

(Arbuton's flaw, too) and

w

reveal ed p a r t l y through h i s social prejudices +-:--.-

p a r t l y through h i s obtuse i n s e n s i t i v i t y t o the

sub1 ime i n New World scenery. I n each case, being abroad and away from

home forces ce r ta in c r i ses o f se l f - recogni t ion and decision-making, and

c l a r i f i e s moral consciousness.

This k ind o f novel i s t i c p l o t t i n g exp lo i ts the extraordinariness o f

t rave l experience: i t s inherent ly dramatic qual i ty , i t s po ten t ia l f o r

creat ing heightened emotional s i tuat ions. I n A Chance Acquaintance,

K i t t y f ee l s tha t shedhas been transported mental ly as wel l as phys ica l l y

i n t o another realm o f experience, and she looks on the inhabi tants o f / d

Quhbec as "but f igures i n a beaut i fu l p ic tu re of something o ld and

poet ical : (p. 97). She wr i tes home: " the t r u t h i s , the p o s s i b i l i t i e s

o f f i c t i o n i n Quebec a r e overpowering; I go about i n a per fec t haze o f

romances, and meet people a t every t u r n who have nothing t o do but 'rp

i n v i t e the passing nove l i s t i n t o t h e i r houses, and have t h e i r l ikenesses

set down a t once f o r heroes and heroines.. . . " (p. 132). I n the picturesque _

are j u s t these i n v i t a t i o n s t o story-making and these half-glimpsed C

p d s s i b i l i t i e s o f romance. Howells appears t o have accepted the i n v i t a t i o n

and made these suggestive mater ia ls i n t o f i c t i o n , but there i s a c ruc ia l

d i s t i n c t i o n between the fragmentary impl icat ions of the picturesque -- which K i t t y ' s imagination seizes -- and the kind o f s t o r y - t e l l i n g Howells * does i n A Chance Acquaintance. K i t t y ' s response i s the t o u r i s t ' s ;

she i s exci ted by inconclusive fragments and she extrapolates on

d i s t a n t l y observed evidence j u s t as Howell s himself d id when he made h i s

imaginative reconnaissance of the Mohawk Val ley i n Their Wedding Journey.

~o<, i n A Qawe A c q t t & & a ~ e , the s t ruc ture p f t rave l na r ra t i ve has been

1 argel y abandoned and the t rave l 1 er ' s perceptual mode has been surrendered

by the narrator t o be taken up by-a f i c t i o n a l consciousness. When t h i s

happens, story-tel 1 i ng becomes a more con@ ete and demand; ng activity , 4

requiring coherent, real i s t ic and explanatory outwork rather than

suggestiv4, unspecific indications. We have much more information of i

Arbuton and the El 1 isons than travel narrative o r travel sketches would

convey.

Early signs of the shift from the epistemology of travel narrative

to the epistemology of the novel occurred in Their Wedding Journey, when

the appearance and reappear e of the Ell i % created a t least a sens\ transitory relationship between Isabel and Kitty, and disclosed further

news of the Ell isons -- more news than travel narrative could a c c m d a t e .

These repeated meetings seem to have generated an i r resis t ible novel i s t ic

influence on Howell s ' a r t , for i n A Chance Acquaintance plot -- the

creation of incident through the encounters of Kitty with Arbuton -- takes e

the place of itinerary i n narrative structure. When the Ellisons are

detained i n Qu&bec, the normal process of travel, w i t h i t s sequence of

picturesque -episodes re1 ated only by the journey's itinerary, i s suspended.

Coherence i s now accompl i s hed not through the travel 1 e; ' s conventional

obl igation to observe and report b u t through novel i s t ic mechanisms -- character, confl i c t , 'outcome. . @ & b e ~ becomes setting , important only for

i .

the occasions i t prov'ides for the heroi net s sentimental education, and

Howell s no longer suppl ies the local information he conveyed directly or

through Basil's agency i n Their Wedding Journey. Unlike the classic '@

l i terary traveller, Kitty Ellison has a past -- and a future -- of greater

1 i terary importance than the 1 ocation of her foreign adventure, and

narrative exposition gives priority to the explication of her character

and destiny.

-

\ \

. .A

I11 , -

..h -

400 > With Henry James and The American Scene we encounter a t h i r d i n -

stance p f an American com iGback t o the New World v i a t r a v e l na r ra t i ve

a f t e r having documented experiences o f fo re ign t r a v e l . By the t ime James

came t o make h i s 1904-05 t o u r of the United States he had been w r i t i n g

and pub1 i sh ing t r a v e l essays and episodes regu la r l y f o r more than t h i r t y

years. H is t r a v e l techniques, as they were t o be appl i ed t o America, were r-

consequently we1 1 -developed, and h i s tourism was a e s t h e t i c a l l y ca lcu la ted

t o produce a l i t e r a r y t ex t . From h i s e a r l i e s t e f f o r t s i n the genre -- h i s

dispatches from New England and Canada i n 1870-71 t o the Nat ion -- he

wrote w i t h seriousness and i n t e n s i t y , never burdened by the conven t iona l i t y P

o f h i s i t i n e r a r i e s . A t Niagara i n 1871, he described the F a l l s w i t h

a l e r t personal i n t e r e s t , s t ruck w i t h "everything being perfect ; "I4 l a t e r

he attempted ~ u r o ~ e a n s i t es - equal ly frequented by t o u r i s t s . Unl i ke

Clemens, James was a t r a v e l 1 e r undeterred by those who had gone before.

He made h i s own way, l e d on by the a u t h e n t i c i t y of a pure ly 1 i t e r a r y

discovery o f s i t e and scene. d

+ James was on easy terms w i t h the t ravel . genre, f o r i n i t s formal

condi t ions were meanings pe r t i nen t t o some essent ia l areoccupations o f

h i s imagination. Much o f James's f i c t i o n enlarges on the comparison- . making brought about by t r a v e l , and on the moral ac t ions and soc ia l

behaviours o f characters i so la ted from t h e i r na t i ve se t t i ngs and tested

against a f o re ign m i l i eu . F o r s o many o f the American protagonists i n

James's f i c t i o n , t r ave l and re l oca t i on lead t o confusion o r c l a r i f i c a t i o n ,

and always t o a t a l e o f some i n t r i c a c y . When a- character i s picked up

and set down elsewhere, a whole c l u s t e r o f na r ra t i ve p o s s i b i l i t i e s i s

c a l l e d up, not the l e a s t o f which a r e beyond the immediate issues o f

- 2 t h a t character 's i nd i v i dua l dest iny. By v i r t u e o f the p r e t e x t o f t rave l ,

soc ia l organizat ion and manners become na r ra t i ve subjects, and much

more than context o r se t t i ng . These considerat ions a re the mater ia l o f

t r a v e l nar ra t i ve , and they hold, f o r James, large, promise.

For James, the great venture w a s t h e venture i n t o foreignness, and

the g rea tes t ac t i on o f h i s own 1 i f e was h i s expa t r ia t ion . I n h i s a r t ,

r e l oca t i on mobi l izes thought, s e n s i b i l i t y , r a t i o c i n a t i o n and taste . I n

h i s i n te rna t i ona l f i c t i o n , James addresses the d i s o r i e n t i n g r e l a t i v i t i e s

which emerge when c u l t u r a l values a re se t one against another and he con-

s iders the consensus by which soc ia l r ea l i t i e s a re estab l ished: these

issues are a lso important t o the , t r a v e l l e r and t he t r a v e l w r i t e r . But i t

i s more than' the subject of the t r a v e l genre which s u i t s James's a r t . The

detached, speculat ive, cons t ruc t i ve mode of the 1 i t e r a r y t o u r i s t i s f i n a l l y

the cen t ra l i n s p i r a t i o n o f h he Amerrican Scene. Travel ex t rac t s from the

' serious p r a c t i t i o n e r exceptional a c u i t y and percipience, necessary t o keep

th ings s t r a i g h t and mainta in h i s sense of whence he has come and where he

i n The ~mercican Scene, and so James

t r a v e l sems t o have been a supreme

I n t h i s s i t u a t i o n devoted whol ly t o

pression, James t r ea t s , as he says,

and wi thout p l o t -- indeed, wi thout

has a r r i ved . So f u l l y and cons i s ten t l y i s t h i s t r ave l awareness mastered

i a n i s the book i n s t y l e and mood, t h a t

1 v opportune occasion f o r James ' s a r t .

r a p t observation and d e f i n i t i v e ex-

J'l i f e i t s e l f . " Without character

l i n e a r i t y a t a l l except f o r scant,

i n t e r m i t t e n t a1 lus ions t o h i s own scarcely d i sce rn ib l e i t i n e r a r y -- James

const ructs a capacious verbal s t ruc tu re t o house h i s f ind ings as a s p e c t a t o r

a t la rge. It i s the s t rac tu re o f t r ave l a r t i n a most demanding form,

pursuing j3documentary purpose but shunning the ordinary material s of

-1; documentation. External order -- itinerary, geographical or historical

sequence, informational comprehensiveness -- dictates neither structure

nor content. pather, coherence and meaning rest w i t h the traveller 's

sensi bil i t y and 1 i terary aesthetic. In structural terms; a comparison

can be made w i t h the novels James wrote d u r i n g the period immediately

before his 1904-05 tour of America: The Wings of the Dove ( lgOZ), The Ambassadors (l9O3), and The Golden Bowl' (1904). 1n these novel's plot i s

reduced to the sequential operations of moral perception. and action i s *

represented ell iptically. Similarly, in The American Scene, the

analytic intelligence of a series of scenes (a heightened sightseeing)

supplies the unifyin$ series of the narrative, and itinerary i s reported

el l ipt ical ly , with l i t t l e attention to the details and logi? of trans-

portation. .' *

James describes the a r t i s t i c occasion of The American Scene as

continuous w i t h his 1 ifelong aesthetic concerns, when he writes, i n his

preface: " I became aware soon enough, on the spot, t h a t these elements

of the human subject, the results of these attempted appreciations of l i f e J-

i t s e l f , would prove much too numerous even for a capacity a l l given to

t h e m for some ten months; b u t a t least therefore, a r t i s t ica l ly concerned

as I had been al l my days with the human subject, w i t h appreciation of 1 i f e

i t se l f , and w i t h the consequent question of l i terary presentation, I should @

not find such matters scant or simple. I was not i n fact to do so, and they P

but led me on and on. "I5 The subsequent text i s sssured by the presence %

of the "human subject" in America, and James

the observations and "1 i terary presentation"

and those habitual a r t i s t i c interests which,

-I

makes no distinction between

which comprise travel a r t

he says, had occupied him a1 1

h is days. Here, near the end o f h i s preface, James has described t h e "

feel ings o f mobi l i ty , f luency and insp i ra t i on which, a t the best o f times,

the t rave l subject arouses i n i t s expositor: i t led him, he says, "on and

on. " In a1 1 th i s , however, i s - a rather ominous sense of formlessness. - Where the journey has t h i s con t i nu i t y w i t h habitual preoccupations i t

loses spme o f i t s c l a r i t y as a discreet, exceptional event w i t h an obvious

beginning and ending. he journey i s , i n a sense, interminably involving,

and i t s t e x t i s correspondingly f l u i d . ; &r When James f i r s t looks about him i n New York he f i nds himself enter ing

" %

i n t o the pecul iar p r i v i l e g e o f the t rave l a r t i s t : "The subject was everywhere

-- t h a t was the beau.ty, t ha t t he advantage: i t was t h r i l l i n g , rea l l y , t o - L

f ind one's sel f i n the presence of a theme t o which everything d i r e c t l y

contributed, leaving no touch of experience i r re levan t " (p. 3) . To go

abroad, w i t h l i t e r a r y in tent ions, i s to* thus step i n t o the frame o f a r t ,

f o r every fo re ign circumstance t o whtch the t rave l w r i t e r i s witness i s

e l i g i b l e f o r verbal reconstruct ion. He need but attend and watch, and the

mater ia ls o f h i s a r t a r e - a t hand. A l l the pa r t i cu la rs o f h i s experience ,

are w i t h i n reach of some expressible genera l i t ies; a l l cohere through the

f a c t of t h e i r fore ign l oca t i on and novelty, and by the fact o f the w r i t e r ' s

a1 i e n status.

Much 1 a ter , when he approaches Phi 1 adel phia , James measures more

prec ise ly the phenomenon o f coherence, which f i r s t impressed him on h i s

a r r i v a l i n New York. This t ime he introduces the serious sightseer as .

p a r t of the phenomenon: "To be a t a l l c r i t i c a l l y , o r as we have been fond

o f c a l l i n g it, a n a l y t i c a l l y minded -- over and beyond an inherent love o f

the general many-coloured p i c tu re o f th ings -- i s t o be subject t o the

supers t i t ion tha t objects and places, coherently grouped, disposed f o r

human use and addressed to it, must have a sense o f t h e i r own, a mystic

meaning proper t o themselves t o g ive out: $0 g ive out, t h a t i s , t o the .

pa r t i c i pan t a t once so i n te res ted and detached as t o be moved t o a repo r t P .

o f the matter. That perverse person i s obliged t o take i t f o r a working

theory t h a t the essence of almost any se t t led aspect o f anything may be *

extracted by the chemistry o f c r i t i c i sm, and may g ive us i t s r i g h t name,

i t s formula, f o r convenient use" (p. 273). The "superst i t ion" t o which

the "analy t ica l l y minded" t rave l 1 er adheres i s h i s be1 i e f i n the important

cogni t ive consequences of sightseeing . The spectator susceptible t o the

"mystic meaningN inherent i n a s i t e , James notes, i s a "par t i c ipant " o f a

special order i n t h a t h i s pa r t i c i pa t i on i n the scene i s ef fected by h i s

simultaneous detachment and involvement. The t o u r i s t i s "detached" i n t h a t

he i s an a l i e n interposed i n t o fore ign locat ions and estranged from the

society whknce he comesi he i s " in terested" i n t h a t h i s business, as a

sightseer, i s i nqu i r y a f t e r loca l meanings. From the coinciderice o f these

two mental condit ions -- d i sconnection and connkt ion , social detachment

dnd perceptual i nvo l vekmt -- comes the tex t . F l i r t he r , James states -

c l e a r l y what t h a t t e x t w i l l be: a ser ies o f extracted " r i g h t names" and

proper formulae for "convenient use." I n other words, the w r i t e r ' s

pa r t i c i pa t i on i n the fo re ign-s i te w i l l consis t i n establ ish ing types and

developing workable general i zations.

Naming r i g h t l y and general iz ing use fu l l y are the verbal processes which

make The American Scene, I n these processes l i e s James rhe to r i ca l a r t f u l -

ness, f o r h i s f indings, so d e f i n i t i v e l y stated, are based on a very 1 imited

form o f empiricism. His Impressions are nei ther sentimental nor romantic,

but ne i ther are they supported by concrete ca lcu lat ions o r by v e r i f i a b l e

data. Nor are they supported by argument o r scepticism: James never takes

t ime f o r polemjc,al . re futat ions. Rarely do h i s judgements r 3 k

o r anecdotal speci f ics : although

American hats, !mots, fire-esca.pes, dental heal th and the 1 i k e are f r e e l y C-

introduced, they are never attached t o i d e n t i f i a b l e c i t i zens o r addresses. -,

*

Rather, James takes up the three condit idns o f t rave l nar ra t i ve -'- detach- 4

ment, i n t e r e s t and f i r s thand experience -- and develops them t o a degree

of rhe to r i ca l conclusiveness t h a t car r ies a1 1 before i t . James dispenses

w i t h the 1 esser formal i t i e s o f 1 i terary t rave l , such as consul t a t i o n w i th

residents o r c i t a t i o n o f numbers o r names f o r corroborat ion o r the even

simpler p rac t ice o f consistent at ten' t ion t o toponymy, and resor ts t o an

u1 t imate p u r i t y o f form: the i n t e l l ectual ' t ransact ion o f the t rave l 1 er

R i t h foreignness. Other transactions -- social o r inves t iga t ive -- are

not merely secondary; they are, i n the tex t , v i r t u a l l y non-existent.

Jams 's repor t o f America i s f i rs thand, o r i g ina l , independent and

unmediated t o a degree we have not seen b,efore i n t rave l w r i t i ng .

This e f f e c t i s achieved through a va r ie t y o f rhe to r i ca l oatterns.

F i r s t , i t i n e r a r y exerts almost no over t inf luence on nar ra t ive pace o r

order. When a new subject-place i s introduced i t i s not i t i n e r a r y t h a t

conanands i t s appearance (a1 though i t may, indeed, f o l low i t s predecessor

,%cording t o sofie geographical sequence) but the advance o f James's thought. -

Second, the demographic, economic o r topographical character i s t i e s o f the

subject-place are considered on ly when they have:contri but& important ly

t o the formulat ion of 3 a m 1 s "impression" and amlys i s , f o r cmprehettsive-

ness has no hold on James's method. As abstract ions pro1 i f e ra te , we o f ten

have 1 i ttl e sense of James's physical whereabouts, a1 though 'we have a

large sense of his mental activity. Next, and perhaps most tell ing, -

i s James's practice of reporting the utterance of fnanimate objects. I . -

will c i t e one example of many, and this , which allows the Weldorf-Astoria

her say, for i t s form rather than i t s content:

The electricb cars, w i t h their double track, are everywhere almost as t i g h t a f i t i n the narrow channel of the roadway as the projectfle

3 - i n the bore of a gun; so that the Waldorf-Astoria, s i t t i n g by this absent margin for l i f e w i t h her open lap and arms, i s reduced to confessing, with a strained smile, across the t raff ic and danger, how 1 f t t 1 e, mtsicke her mere swtng-door, she can do for you. She . seems to admit that the attempt to get a t her may cost you your

-, safety, b u t reminds you a t the same time that any good American, '

and even any good inquiring stranger, i s supposed willing to risk that oon for her. "Un bon mouuement, therefore: you must make h t dash or it, but you17t see f 'in worth i t " (p . 101).

A t other times, elms, Hew Jersey vi l las , buildings a t Harvard, New England

houses and spring a i r speak out, and address James. We know, of course,\

t h a t these are figurative utterances, yet they stand for verbatim report

i n James's commentary, and they carry the information which other travel

writers attribute to empirical investigation. These episodes, wher,e

James 1 aunches inanimate objects or ' ~ l aces into active address, provide

his most direct , intimate contact w i t h the American scene.

Where knowledge i s thus attainable only through firsthand modes,

w i t h o u t consultation of other sources of data, the sightseer i s obliged to

r i se unfai 1 ingly to every occasion. James's confidence that the travel

situation i t se l f , rightly developed, will lead to a series of emergent

real i t ies comnensurate w i t h the traveller 's route i s an aspect of the

"superstition" which inspires the true tourist: "There always comes, t o any

travel 1 er who rtrrenr't a m b e with the mwce secwfty aRd ptmcW - i ty of a registered l e t t e r , some mment for his beginning t o feel w i t h i n

him -- i t happens under s a x particular touch -- the finer vibration of

a sense of the real thing. He t h u s knows i t when i t comes, and i t has

the great value tha t i t need never f a i l . There i s no s i tua t ion , where- e

ever he may t u r n , i n which the note of tha t especial r ea l i ty , the note

of character, f o r b l i s s or bale, may not i n s i s t on emerging" (p. 434).

From the very s t a r t , James i s receptive, prepared t o "feel within" the

typical presences of the scenes he v i s i t s . On his way to Ned Jersey

he finds himself in a crowd of commuters, and consequently surrounded

by a b u n d a n t oppor tun i t i es f c r abstract?^^: "if trz3sgres sf ' t y p e ' werE

not here t o be disengaged, the f a u l t would be a l l [the spectator's] own

.... those thick-growing items of the character is t ic ... were surely going

t o drop into one's hand, fo r vivid i l luc t ra t ion , a s soon as one could

begin to hold i t out" (pp. 5-6). Later i n the tour, the New England

autumn impresses him: "This, on September Sunday mornings, was what

American beauty should be; i t f i l l e d t o the brim i t s idea and i t s

measure.. .." (p. 29). Cape Cod shows a character similarly reple te and

just: " i t s type, so eas i ly formulated, so .completely f i l l e d , was there

the l a s t thing a t night and the f i r s t thing in the morning; there was

r e s t for the mind -- having i t so exactly

occasions of t ravel ,

types. In the event

f o r t h a t , cer ta in ly , of the r e s t l e s s analyst -- i n

under one's hand" (p. 34). These a re the coveted

bringing the t ravel le r face-to-face with sought-after

and pleasure of recognition, there i s a sense of

expectations being f u l f i l l e d (beauty a s i t "should be") and of coming upon

pre-existent ideals (types which a re "there the l a s t thing a t night and

the f i r s t thing i n the morning"). Under these conditions, the journey

introduces the journey-maker into a platonic world of form. Each

combination of scenic el ements const i tutes a representative ideal ,

obscured by ordinary, sedentary experience bu t reveal ed w i t h sudden

clar i ty by the traveller 's mobility. The sightseer becomes t h u e a seer I

indeed, endowed with extraordinary faculties. 16

Behind the sightseer's relentless inquiry after type i s an assumption

crucial to the epistemology of travel knowledge, namely, that in the

cursory orospect the travel 1 er can discern not only adequately b u t perfectly

the essential qua1 i ty of any locale. James supports his epistemological d -

premise by suggesting t h a t this American travel project i s especially

a case for quick study, and t h a t America i s a n uncomnonly simple text

to scan:

Few elements o f the picture are shy or lurking elements -- tangled among others or hidden behind them, packed close by time and taking time t o come out. They stand there in their row like le t ters of an alphabet, and this i s why, i n spite of the vast surface exposed, any item, encountered or selected, contributes to the spell ing of the word, becomes on the spot general 1 y informing and characteristic . The word so recognized stands thus, immediately, for a multitude of others and constitutes, t o expert observa&ion, an all-sufficient specimen.. . .A single case speaks for many -- since i t i s again and again ... a question not of clustered meanings that fa l l like over- ripe f ru i t into his lap, b u t of the picking out of the few formed features, signs of character mature enough andr firm enough to promise a savour or to suffer handling. These,scant handfuls i l lustrate and typify, and , luckily, they are (as the evidence of manners and conditions, over the world, goes) quickly gathered; so t h a t a n impression founded on t h e m i s not an undue simplification ( p p . 367-68). !

The travel analysis of America i s , then, a relatively simple matter on two

counts. First, the imnaturity of American society provides few of the

cumulative complexities which enthrall the analyst in cultures more ancient.

Second, the shamelessly legible uniformity of American society makes for

easy, u w a l t f l d Qescri~tisn -- "a single case speaks for many." B u t

other travellers i n other places have been carried along by similar con-

fidence i n the mwer of their insight to penetrate foreign surfaces and --

reduce complexity. ttowells was no t confused by Venice, nor Clemens by

Palest ine, nor ' ~ e l v i l l e by T a h i t i . A l l these t r a v e l l e r s r e a d i l y grasped

and r e l a t e d the gene ra l i t i es t h a t t o u r i s t s b r ing home, and a l l thus

i m p l i c i t l y a t t r i b u t e d t o the f o re ign places they v i s i t e d the homogeneity

t h a t James describes as an American cha rac te r i s t i c . The r h e t o r i c a l

processes o f t r ave l w r i t i n g , which t y p i c a l l y a l low one case t o stand f o i

many and which permi t and even requ i re genera l izat ions t o be developed

from 1 im i ted data, endow the w r i t e r w i t h uncommon cer t i tude . Th is con-

f idence i s a special case, d i s t i ngu i sh ing the a r t i s t ' s experience abroad

from h i s experience a t home. Abroad, th ings are keenly t e l l i n g , and

*expressible through l u c i d s i m p l i f i c a t i o n ; a t home th ings a re i n t r i c a t e ,

invo lv ing, r e t i c e n t , and expressible on ly through endless qual i f i c a t i o n .

This i s no t t o say t h a t the quick study cha rac te r i s t i c o f t he t r ave l

a r t i s t ' s p rac t i ce cannot be appl ied t o na t i ve scenes t o e l i c i t a b r i s k

perspect ive 0% f a m i l i a r aspects. But i t does remind us o f t he h igh l y

expressible, comnuntcative qual i ty o f t r ave l observations. persons

p rev ious ly unmoved t o - w r i t t e n expression can be i nsp i red by t h e i r t r ave l s

t o r e p o r t t h e i r f i nd ings -- insp i red, t h a t i s , by the abrupt c l a r i t y of i

percept ion t h a t seems t o become t h e i r s once they embark. The fee l ings o f ?

omniscient o b j e c t i y i t y and' i n s i g h t t h a t s e t t l e on the s ightseer i n a

f o re ign land lead him t o a l low a "s ing le case" t o speak f o r many and lead

t o the r h e t o r i c a l s t ructures which support genera l izat ion.

James, af course, was h a b i t u a l l y mob& t o expression i n areas much

- 1 ess ' transparent than t h e provirrce i n which lesser t r a v e l l e r s p rac t i se .

Nevertheless, he shares t h e i r confidence i n advancing general i za t i ons based

on small experience of . pa r t i cu la r s . I n f ac t , he goes so f a r as t o maintain

t h a t a longer acquaintance w i t h h i s sub ject o r a profounder sounding o f

i t would no t r i p e n h i s f i nd ings , bu t poss ib ly spo i l th$. Travel know- ' J

ledge depends, i t seems, on the t r a v e l l e r ' s l i m i t e d experience o f h i s 9

subject; i t depends on h i s moviag on. Once an impression i s acquired, ' -.

James advises, q u i c k l y c o l l e c t i t a d take i t home. Don't l i n g e r t o

substant ia te it, he warns, o r i t s components may disperse:

where, i n the Uni ted States, the i n te res t , the pleasure o f con- templat ion i s concerned, d i s c r e t i o n i s the b e t t e r p a r t o f valour and ins is tence too of ten a bet raya l . It i s not so much t h a t the h o s t i l e f a c t crops up as t h a t the f r i e n d l y f a c t breaks down. I f you have l u c k i l y seen, you have seen; c a r r y o f f your p r i ze , i n t h i s case, i n s t a n t l y a z t any r i s k . Try i t again and you don ' t , you won't see ....(p. 411)

The impression i s made by the cond i t i on of 1 im i ted i n fo r ka t i on . Once - famil i a r i ty enlarges know1 edge the percep t i b l e essence ceases t o s ign i f y .

Passing through and t r a v e l l i n g on provide the on l y s i t u a t i o n i n which the .

t o u r i s t can p rac t i se h i s a r t , f o r once h e ' l o i t e r s , he gives up h i s

r eve la to r y perspect ive and h i s mate r ia l breaks down under h i s own 1 inger-

ing, imp1 i c a t i n g view o f th ings. These condi t ions o f t r a v e l and t r ave l

a r t may p a r t i c u l a r l y s u i t James's i n t en t i ons w i t h regard t o America. To

f i n d i t now, a f t e r twenty years ' absence, a simple t e x t no t o n l y a l low ing

but r e q u i r i n g quick study, may be a sa t i s f ac t i on , f i r s t reducing the com-

p l ex i t i e s of James ' s c u l t u r a l o r i g i n s t o general and t r a c t a b l e dimensions

and second .demanding o f him no long re-invol0ement i n circumstances from

which he had once ex t r i ca ted himself. H is hypothesis on the s i m p l i c i t y

o f American c u l t u r e and the value o f sudden impressions s w i f t l y c a r r i e d

away keeps him foot loose, even i n h i s homeland. 17

Travel na r ra t i ve proceeds from the cen t ra l f a c t o f the foreignness

o f the subject . The novel p roper t ies o f the scene i n themselves arouse and

c h a l l enge the t r ave l 1 e r I s powers of cogni t i o n ,and expression. But - The

.American Scene i s a special instance o f the t r ave l genre, comparable t o

L i f e on the Miss iss ipe t . I n each book, the t r a v e l l e r r e tu rns t o scenes

which were o r i g i n a l l y f a m i l i a r t o him; the present novel ty o f the subject

i s q u a l i f i e d by r e c o l l e c t i o n -- which i s .basScally adverse t o the p re tex t

of t he rave l genre. I n both The American Scene and L i f e on the 'a Miss iss ipp i the memory associat ions o f the scene are p o t e n t i a l l y i n f l u e n t i a l ,

1

drawing t h e . t r a v e l 1 e r i n where h i s 1 i t e r a r y mode requ i res d&hment. But

i n both cases the tour i s made t o be u l t ima te l y sovereign, and reminiscence

subordinate. The issue i s one which both Clemens and James t r e a f w i t h

i n te res t , f o r i t mater ia l l ' y a f f e c t s the mode o f t h e i r composi t i ons , which,

i n turn , r e f l e c t s the character o f * t h e i r present r e l a t i o n t o these s l t e s

from the past . Have these places become fo re ign scenes, accessible t o

the t r a v e l w r i t e r ' s mode?

I n h i s preface, James says t h a t his.absence from America has been-

long enough t o g ive him "t ime t o become almost as ' f r e s h ' as an i n q u i r i n g

stranger" (p. x v i i ) ; on t h i s cond i t ion the success and character o f the

subsequent t e x t res ts . When he r e v i s i t s Boston, f o r instance, he f i n d s

t h a t he has t r u l y a l t e red h i s perspective, t o the p o i n t where he f i nds

reve la t ions and newsworthiness. These a re evidence no t simply q f the

changes undergone by Boston bu t o f h i s own changed prospect. He comes

now as a sightseer, and s igh ts consequently crowd upon him as they never

d i d when he 1.ived i n t he c i t y . Journey-making br ings i n t o focus items

which m k y had l e f t u n n a M and unformulated:

So many had been the easy th ings, the contiguous places, the con- spicuous objects, t o r i g h t o r l e f t o f the path, t h a t had been e i t h e r unaccountably o r a1 1 too i nev i tab1 y 1 e f t undiscovered , and

1 which were t o l i v e on, t o t he inner v i s ion , through the long years, as mere blank faces, round, empty, metal 1 i c , senseless d iscs dangl ing from f a m i l i a r and r e i t e r a t e d names. Why, a t the same t ime, one might ask, had the consciousness o f i r r i t a t i o n from these va in forms n o t grown greater? Why had t he incon- venience, o r the disgrace, o f e a r l y p r i v a t i o n become an accepted memory? A l l , doubtless, i n the very i n t e res t , p rec ise ly , o f t h i s eventual be1 a ted romance, and so t h a t adventures, even o f a minor type, so preposterously postponed should be ab le ta deck them- selves a t l a s t w i t h a k ind o f accumulation of freshness (pp. 52-53),

"k

James I s e a r l i e r , r e s i d e n t i a l experience o f Boston produced images t h a t

seem now, i n f%e 1 i g h t o f r e v i sf t a t i o n , inadequate and sup-e r f i c ia l : "mere

blank faces, round, empty, metal 1 i c , senseless d i scs dangl ing from f a m i l i a r 6

and r e i t e r a t e d names." These places and ob jects had no t been r i g h t l y

named and t h e i r meaning had been l e f t unreckoned. Now, w i t h t h i s present

view o f Boston, the blank "d iscs" and meaningless surfaces r i s e up f u l l o f

re1 i e f and sense. Boston becomes a subject o f observat ion and no ta t i on

as i t was no t before, and the change comes about as a r e s u l t of James's 't

new r o l e as a t o u r i s t there. Boston comes t o mean more r a t h e r than less,

d i vu lg i ng heretofore undisclosed aspects and aryangements.

The generic s t r uc tu re o f The American Scene - i s i t s e l f a statement o f

the re1 oca t ion o f James ' s p o i n t o f view. Travel commentary- a1 ways f i x e s

and def ines the au thor ' s c u l t u r a l a f f i l i a t i o n s and perspective, simply

by t e l l i n g the events of the journey: the departure from a fami l ia r ;

accustomed loca t ion , the term abroad i n a strange and un fam i l i a r place,

and the r e t u r n t o the place o f o r i g i n . w i t h i t s temporal foreshortening,

The American Scene omits d i r e c t re ference t o departure, and re tu rn , bu t by

adhering t o the desc r i p t i ve conventions of t r ave l memoir i t makes these

events the unspoken frame of the 1 i t e r a r y occasion: James has come from

somewhere e l se and he w i 11 go back there. The form o f h i s comnentary a t

Boston, New York, Newport and other once f am i l i a r places, es tab l ishes the ,,

41 3

fact of the radical transfer in James's l i f e , for the journey now charges

these American places with foreignness. Each s i t e assumes a central place

as subject, provoking curiosity and requiring exposition. Earlier

associations -- the t i e s of familiarity that would undercut the sense o f

strangeness and the need to penetrate and explain -- are superseded by

the social and cultural connections James has formed in the Old World.

As Clemens, in Life on the Mississippi, approached from elsewhere the

river once so closely known and thereby produced a travel document, so

James comes a t American from another place. The travel form of The American Scene - makes just such an important statement of the sh i f t in

James's point of view: in America, he i s a foreigner, 18

For both Clemens and James, their,early migrations away from what

l a te r becomes the subject of their travel a r t are events deeply embedded

within

travel

real 1 w ' J

i s his

their narratives. Concealed as they are, however, they influence

commentary, for they pose some pertinent questions: i s the writer

P,, rr%m,.,+n Cunm /.lr r , , l . : ~ . . + +I...& I GIIIVI.C; Vlll 1 3 3UUJCLL t . l l a L he can make a travel took? Gihat

place now that he has given u p the attachments of his native location?

The bipartite structure of Life on the Mississippi accommodates some of

the tensions created by the t ravel ler ' s audacity in revisiting original

scenes as a sightseer: the f i r s t part of the book i s devoted to reminiscences

of Clemens' early 1 i f e on the river b u t , once the new journey begins,

recollection i s suppressed. James similarly suppresses most of the memory

aff i l ia t ions which connect him with the American scene. In a few of his

observations and judgements, however, are obl ique arguments expl ai d n g his

emigration and the conditions which so drastically removed him from America

as t o make him a t o u r i s t there. Where he f i n d s t he ethos o f American

soc ie ty unaccommodating and a l iena t ing , he rediscovers the motives o f

h i s f i r s t journey, away from the New World. American manners a re so rude

and unmodulated as t o make him wonder how a sub t le sens ib i l i t y could w i th - \.

stand such pervasive harassment and d i f f u s e i n s u l t :

no agreeable form o f in tercourse could surv ive a day i n such an h i r : so t h a t what i s the on l y r e l z i b n f i n d i n g ground there bu t a necessary v i c i ous c i r c l e o f gross mutual endurance?

These r e f l e c t i o n s connect themselves moreover w i t h t h a t most . general of [the ingenious i n q u i r e r ' s 3 r e s t 1 ess hauntings i n t he United States -- no t o n l y w i t h the lapse o f a l l wonderment a t the immense number of absentees unrestored and making t h e i r l i v e s as they may i n o ther count r ies , but w i t h the p re l im inary American pos tu la te o r bas is f o r any successful a c c m d a t i o n o f l i f e . This basis i s t h a t o f a c t i v e pecuniary ga in and o f a c t i v e pecuniary ga in o n l y .... what p reva i l s , what sets the tune, i s t he American scale of gain, more magni f icent than any other, and the f a c t t h a t the whole assumption, t he whole s to r y o f l i f e , i s t h a t o f the i n d i v i d u a l ' s ' & p a r t i c i p a t i o n i n it, t h a t o f h i s being more o r l e s s e f f e c t i v e l y "squared." To make so much money t h a t you M n ' t , t h a t you d o n ' t "mind," d o n ' t mind anything -- t h a t i s abso lu te ly , I th ink , the main American formula. Thus your making no money -- o r so 1 i t t l e

-. t h a t i t passes there f o r none -- and being d i s t i n c t l y reduced t o minding, amounts t o your beSng reduced t o the know1 edge t h a t America i s no p lace f o r you (pp'. 236-37).

Y . Here, where the pronounced American b e l i e f i n " ac t i ve pecuniary ga in" i s

the emergent issue, James's o r i g i n a l motives f o r q u i t t i n g America hover

around the margins of t h e commentary. To in t roduce them i n t o h i s d iscourse

would be t o g ive up t he ob jec t i ve f o r m a l i t i e s o f h i s mode, and, more i m -

por tant , t o g i ve i n t o "minding." Once the j u b j e c t begins t o exe r t these

archaic connections, James r i s k s being drawn i n and detained.

Throughout, though, he sustains h i s t r a v e l mode, making a strong formal

statemen't of h i s personal remoteness from h i s subject , and o f h i s no longer

"minding." This i s a favourable r e l a t i o n s h i p to-'America, one which

intercedes between am& and the a1 i ena t i ng effects of American cu l t u re .

The "main American formula" which promotes a homogqneous mercan t i l e

cul t u re i s unaccommodating t o a mind without commercial propensit ies; i

3

under these circumstances the res ident c i t i z e n becomes an a1 i e n i n h i s

own nation, convinced tha t America i $ "no place" f o r &. The next step \

i s t o execute the imp1 ica t ions of t ha t conviction,and emigrate. Once

James determined the loca t ion o f a more congenial environment, and

established himself there, i n Europe, he needed no longer "mind."

Having become conclusively domiciled a t Rye, James f i nds the excesses

and obsessions o f American cu l tu re o f on ly academic i n te res t . They are

exot ic phhomena as fo re ign t o h i s d a i l y experience as' they had always

been t o h i s s e n s i b i l i t y , and no longer discomnoding o r threatening.

Through emigration, h i s a1 ienat ion i q converted t o a more propi t ious,

manageable and productive detachment, and under the revers ib le condit ions

o f t rave l America becomes a t l a s t a good place f o r James t o be -- temporari ly. The favourabl e, encouraging connections and re1 at ions which

eluded him as a c i t i z e n become h i s as a t o u r i s t making wide-ranging and

independent observations.

The American Scene i s the formal proof t ha t h i s desirable s i t ua t i on - f '.

has come about. WTth h i s t rave l t r e a t i s e on America, James demonstrates

t h a t he has reposi t ioned himself i n r e l a t i o n t o h i s nat ive country. Now

he views i t from an i l l um ina t i ng pos i t i on w i th in another c u l t u r a l frame

which provides comparisons t h a t lead t o more and more mater ial w i th which

t o construct h i s " t rue re la t i on " t o h i s subject. His l i f e -- and place -- i n Europe establ i s h the pos i t i ve model from which the negative impr in t can

1

be taken. Again and again i n h e r i c a James i s struck by the "absence" o f

- c e r t a i n propert ies -- o f "forms," of churches, o f reserves, of "penetral ia."

Yet these negative scenic quant i t ies nei ther dismay the t ravel1 er nor

check h i s in te res t , f o r they become p o s i t i v e verbal quan t i t i e s , set@ w i t h

1 i t e r a r y energy.

A t the hear t o f James's impress ionab i l i t y , i n which the success o f the

journey res ts , i s the t e s t of foreignness. Has America become, f o r him,

exo t i c enough t o generate a t r a v e l t e x t ? O r , more t o t he po in t , i s James

now f i r m l y enough connected w i t h t he Old World t o become a t r u e t r ave l1 e r

i n the New? The con f i rmat ion t h a t James i s now, as f a r as possib le,

expa t r ia ted a r r i v e s w i t h the gener ic p u r i t y o f the t e x t . Scene i s always

subject , begging expos i t i on and analys is . The reversa l has been achieved,

James's journeys now o r i g i n a t e i n the Old World, and America has become

a f o re i gn land:

It was Europe t h a t had, i n very anc ient days, he ld ou t t o the yearning young American some 1 i ke l i hood of impressions more numerous and var ious and o f a h igher i n t e n s i t y than those he might gather i n the na t i ve scene; and i t was doubt less i n con- formi t y w i t h some such des i r e more f i n e l y and f requen t l y t o \ v i b r a t e t h a t he had o r i g i n a l l y begun t o consu l t the European oracle. Th is had led , i n the event, t o h i s s e t t l i n g t o l i v e f o r long years i n the very prec inc ts , as i t were, o f the temple; so t h a t the vo ice of the d i v i n i t y was f i n a l l y t o become, i n h i s ears, o f a l l sounds t he most f am i l i a r . I t was q u i t e t o l o s e i t s primal note o f nystery , t o cease l i t t l e by 1 i t t l e t o be strange, impressive and august -- i n the degree, a t any ra te , i n which i t had once enjoyed t h a t character . The consul t a t i o n o f the orac le , i n a word, t h e invocat ion o f the poss ib le t h r i l l , was g radua l l y t o f e e l i t s romantic essence enfeebled, shrunken and spent.. . . Romance and mystery -- i n o ther words the amusement o f i n t e r e s t -- would have therefore a t l a s t t o provide f o r themselves e lse- where; and what cu r i ous l y b e f e l l , i n time, was t h a t the na t i ve , t he forsaken scene, now passing, as cont inua l rumour had it, through a thousand stages and changes, and o f f e r i n g a p e r f e c t i r idescence of f r e s h aspects, seemed more and more t o appeal t o the f a c u l t y o f wonder (pp. 365-66).

The s i t e o f h igh i n t e r e s t and sensation has, f o r James, sh i f t ed , i n d i c a t i n g

t h a t "romantic essence'' and " f resh aspects" a re r e l a t i v e proper t ies , bred

by the r e l a t i o n o f the a r t i s t t o h i s subject . H i s "des j re more f i n e l y

and f requent ly t o v i b r a t e " l e d once t o h i s journey t o the Old World; now

the same impulse t o exert h i s mind has brought him t o America.

For America t o acquire beauty and "iridescence" for James, i t must

become t h e "elsewhere." Far less exigent was the t e s t t o which Europe

was put by the young man eager f o r pal p i t a n t experience, f o r America holds

' those l a t e n t claims o f f a m i l i a r i t y which obscure essences and reveal on ly

the nondescript. Especial ly obfuscating and c loy ing are those aspects

of America from which James once de l ibera te ly ext r icated himself by

emigration. Can the. "main American formula" o f universal mater ial

increment now be handled and reckoned w i t h impunity, as a abstracticm

which James contacts on ly on a l i t e r a r y plane? Does he now not " m i d " ? I

The rhe to r i ca l methods by which James establ i shes p latonic re la t i ons w i th

~ m k r i c a are a1 1 calculated t o elaborate on the distance t h a t now separates

him from h i s subject: he reconstructs experience always w i t h a view t o

formulat ing type and t o disembodying par t i cu la rs tha t they may contr ibute

to<eneral i za t ion . He engages i n co l loquy w i th houses, elms, hotel s,

and seasonal a i r s , personifying these components of the American scene

i n l i e u of conferr ing w i th o r consult ing Americans. I n repor t ing the

development o f h i s impressions, he eschews the f i r s t person and resor ts

t o the t h i r d person, c a l l i n g himself "the res t less analyst," " the i n -

genious inquirer," " the ancient contemplative person." Not "minding"

i s r h e t o r i c a l l y corroborated by these devices which a t once distance James ,

from h i s subject and connect him w i th i t on h i s own terms. For James,

the adventure o f the t rave l p ro jec t i s more acute than i t i s f o r the

who1 l y unirnpl icated t rave l 1 er : t o respond t o the assirai lat ive energies o f

the American scene would be t o encounter the a1 ienat ion o f other times

and t o d i s c r e d i t the success and f i n a l i t y o f h i s re loca t ion i n Europe.

James becomes a t o u r i s t a t hane and America i s made, in The American Wne,

t o be a f o r e i g n land.

Notes

Chapter 8

They have been most recently collected as Mark Twain's Letters

from Hawaii (Honolulu: Un iv . of Hawaii Press, 1975); henceforth I will

refer to t h e m by this t i t l e , and references in the text will be to this

edition. Clemens' third travel composition, Roughing I t , treats ex-

periences predating the Polynesian sojourn. The travel s which supply

material for t h a t book were undertaken withoe overt l i terary intention

-- with the exception, that i s , of the lastphapters, which re-work the + Q ( Hawai ian' experience. For various reasons, ..Roughing I t does not really

seem to be a travel book. In his chapter on " 'Starchy' Travel Books"

in The Art of Mark Twain (Mew York: Oxford Univ . Press, 1976), William

M . Gibson cal ls i t a "picaresque narrative" (p. 36) and a. "splendid anth-

ology of anecdotes and tales" ( p . 48). Roughing I t i s certainly

picaresque i n that itinerary i s subordinate to episode as a structural

device, and i n that there i s l i t t l e sense of geographical advance in

the narrative. The western setting i s important, b u t revealed through

social anecdotes rather than directly, through exposition. Also, the

book has an autobiographical emphasis t h a t Letters from Hawaii and

Innocents Abroad do not have. B u t perhaps the most telling distinction

i s that , iwRoughing I t , there i s much less of the burlesque -- 'vd parody \

of travel /narrative conventions which abound i n the Hawaiian ynd European /4

books. A t this stage in his career, Clemens almost auto; t i c ly -1

parodied the travel form ;hen he used i t ; that there i s 1 i t t le -of th is

parody in Roughing I t argues t h a t i t i s not) composed i n the travel form.

Samuel Clemens, The Innocents Abroad or the New Pilgrims' Progress

(yew Yo k : ~ i g h e t , 1966), p . 24. Subsequent references are to this edition 'i 1

and will a s e a r i n the text. - Edgar J . Burde,jn a recent ar t ic le on a ark Twain: The Writer as

Pilot ," PMLA, 93 (1978), makes an exce l l~n t case for the .idea that Clemens

f e l t l ifelong anxieties in regard t o piloting and river travel . Clemens,

says Burde, was in fact an extremely cautious, even "timid" pilot and

dreaded the risks involved i n his profession: "In an 4881 notebook entry

Clemens revealed t h a t he had long-standing and recurrent nightmares about

sinking a steamboat. He feared the river" ( p . 879). Burde finds the las t

two-thirds of the book especially uninspired in areas where Clemens con-

sults secondary sources and resorts to compilation.

4 Samuel Clemens, Life on the flississippi (New York: Bantam, 19761,

p. 1. Subsequent references are t o this edition and will appear in the t;xt.

Clemens' recollections of -r iver 1 i f e appeared serially in the Atlantic

beginning in January 1875.

W i t h Clmens, Howel 1s and James (who also started his travel

writing career as a correspondent, dispatching notices of N e w England and

Canada to the Nation) we begin t o see the importance of the oeriodical as

a medium i n travel writing. Newspaoer journalism seems t o have provided

a las t revitalization of the genre and, in a way, i t reaffirm& an

originat rhetorfcat princfpte of a genre which esta5TTsRed a flow of

information from foreign places to a domestic audience. But this final

eoock of the genre's vi ta l i ty was short-lived: i n The Portrait o f a Lady

(1881) James's characterization of Henrietta Stackpol e already shows the

practice turning in on i tself as the lady correspondent, whose business

i t i s t o f i l l home columns with expressions of the American p o i n t of view

i n Europe, finds her mode limiting, and calculated t o serve her readers'

oreconceptions rather than her subject.

' Yenetian Lifd was inmensely popular and was reissued more t h a n

twenty times. For d a t a on Howell s t travels and travel publfcations I am

indebted t o Rudolf and Clara Kirk's William Dean Howells (New York:

Grosset and Dunlop, l W ) , which takes careful account of Howells' comings

and goings, and of t h e d + x u T m t s resu? ting from his mobility.

Both Clmens and Howells reverted t o European material for later

travel writing. Clemens ' A Tramp Abroad - (1880) reQrts experiences in

Sermany a n d Italy. Howells published Tuscan Cities in 1886, having re-

visited Italy in 1883. Late i n his career, after a holiday in England

in 19W, he recorded his impressions in London Films (1906) and Certain

3elightful English Towns (1906); he described his 1907-08 excursion t o

Italy in Rman Holidays and Others (1908).

Will iam Dean Hovells, Venetian Life -- (London: Constable,' 1907),

9. x v Subsequent references are t o this edition and will appear in

' t h e t e x t .

Iri Will +am Dean Howells, Italian Journeys (London: Heinmnn, 1901),

PD, v-vi. \

Their U&dfng Journey was not Howells' first application of the

WP& tw DP& I p h 6 f W e t - wf thg te t* kiwiem &ject. H s

Suhrban Sketches (1869) describes the author's findings during a series

o f pedestrian excursions th;ough the wtsk i r t s of Cambridge. H i s use of

the sightseer 's mode

professional success

a t o u r i s t , o r al ien,

W i 11 iam Dean

4% i n th is case may y e s t that , even :after=-notable

i n Boston, Howells f e l t himself s t i l l something o f

there.

Howell s, Their Wedding Journey (Cambridge: Riverside,

l894), p. 1. Subsequent references are t o t h i s ed i t i on and w i l l appear i n

the tex t .

l3 M i l 1 iam Dean Howell s, A Chance Acquaintance (Boston: Houghton

Y i f f l i n , l873), pp. 77-78. Subsequent references are t o t h i s e d i t i o n and

w i l l appear i n the tex t . .

l4 Henry ~ames; The A r t o f Travel , ed. Morton Zabel (New ~ o i k :

Doubleday, l958), p . 89.

l5 Henry James, The American Scene (New York: Horizon Press, l967),

D. x v i i i . Subsequent references are t o t h i s ed i t i on and w i l l appear i n

the tex t .

*I6 ~drnes'; s t y l e of tourism may have something i n comnon w i t h the v

construct ive perceptions o f the characters i n h i s ghost s tor ies, who

manipulate and work appearances u n t i l an imnanent presence i s rendered. d

In each case, James's prose'hovers around an i n t u i t i o n o r an obscured

essence ,-mounding and enveloping i t , approaching ever c loser t o the -

nucleus of the impression u n t i l i t i s f i n a l l y worded -- -- o r near ly so.

l7 I n "The Continuing Relevance o f Henry James' The American Scene

(Cr i t ic ism, 13, No. 2 1971 , 151-65), Wi l l iam F. Ha l l d ist inguishes

between the two p r i n c i p l e epi thets James introduces t o represent himself

i n the t h i r d person: "the ancient contemplative person" and "the res t less

analyst . " While the "ancient contmpl a t i v e person" r e v i s i t s scenes from

t he past and penetrates picturesqueness, i t i s the " rest1 ess analyst,"

says Ha1 1 , who surveys t he new America, skimming the s l ippery surfaces o f

modern l i f e and f i n d i n g no sure foo t ing . H a l l ' s observations r i g h t l y

emphasize t he rest lessness and uneasiness James fee ls i n regard t o the more

recent developments i n American cu l tu re ; and h i s des i re t o be on h i s way.

l8 I n h i s chapters on The American Scene i n The Grasping Imagination: - 1

The American Wri t ings o f Henry James (Toronto: Univ. o f Toronto Press, 1970), - - Peter Buitenhuis po in ts ou t t h a t changes i n America were as important as

changes i n James h imsel f i n arousing feel ings o f a l i e n a t i o n i n the

re tu rn ing expatr iate, Large-scal e and v i r t u a l l y uncon t ro l l ed immigration

was the aspect o f turn-of-the-century America which most deeply impressed

and challenged James: "He seemed t o take the f lood o f immigrants almost as I

a personal a f f r o n t . No doubt they d i d add t o the sense o f d i s l o c a t i o n and

dispossession he had expressed as soon as h i s ship docked i n the United

States" (p. 190).

Chapter 9 b

a Late-Coming , Freder ick P h i l i p Grove

While Clemens, Howell s and James described t h e i r comings and goings

i n important 1 i t e r a r y composi t i ons , Canadian t r ave l n a r r a t i v e showed no

comparable a c t i v i t y i n the l a s t h a l f o f the nineteenth century. However,

i n the f i r s t p a r t o f the twen t ie th century some signs o f a t l e a s t a

s u p e r f i c i a l l y para1 1 e l 1 i t e r a t u r e appeared. Sara Jeannette Duncan (whose

own expa t r i a t i on from her Canadian homeland could be compared t o James's

1 from America ) wrote, as wel l as t r ave l sketches, f i c t i o n t r e a t i n g the

experiences o f North Americans v i s i t i n g Europe. Her novel The I m p e r i a l i s t

(1904) has as a f oca l element o f i t s p l o t the journey o f the Canadian

protagonis t t o London and i t deals w i t h some o f the psychological and

soc ia l consequences o f h i s f o r e i g n experience. And Duncan's Cousin

Cindere l la : A Canadian G i r l i n London (1908) describes, i n t he manner o f

James I s e a r l y i n t e rna t i ona l f i c t i o n , the London sojourn o f Yary Trent,

a wel l - to-do Ontar io g i r l t r a v e l 1 i ng w i t h her brother.' C,entral t o t h i s

na r ra t i ve a re the comparison-making and soc ia l commentary brought about

by t r a v e l . The comparisons a re complicated b y t i e f a c t t h a t th ree nat iona l

i d e n t i t i e s must be adjudicated: Canadians a re i d e n t i f i e d n o t o n l y be the

d i f fe rences which d i s t i n g u i s h them from the Engl ish bu t a l so by those

which d i s t i n 0 , s h them from Americans. I n London, the Trents a r e o f t e n r / '?

i n the compa'ny o f an American f r i e n d who makes her way i n Eng l i sh -soc ie ty

with showy success. In contrast, the Trents hover around the edges of

aristocratic circles for the f i r s t months of their stay, only to be finally

assimilated more conclusively than their American friend ever can be, The

~merican explains, w i t h 1 i terary as well as social insight, the factors

which lead to their different experiences of English 1 ife: " ' I expect

Canadians are something new over here -- that ' s what i t i s . Americans

were new onc and frequented Bloomsbury boardi ng-houses and brought 1, introductions rom Emerson and Thoreau, and wrote their experiences after-

wards in the magazines. Now you are; She adds: "'You haven't

become foreigners yet. "' Her measure of the matter nearly corresponds

t o the scheme of generic development i n

States, Washington Irving's Sketch Book

original east-west currents of 1 i terary

travel narrative: i n the United

in 1819 began to reverse the

travel ; in Canada the reversal

did not appear u n t i l the twentieth century. I t was then t h a t ~anadjan

writers perhaps began to feel themselves sufficiently "foreigners" i n & i

Britain t o consider a l i terary analysis of the distinctions between their

own culture and that of the seat of Empire.

Henry James has a Canadian counterpart in Sara Jeannette Duncan, and

Samuel Clemens has one i n Stephen Leacock. In attitude, tone and argument,

Leacock's My Discovery of England ( l922) , a random account of his lecture t

tour in that country, has so much in comnon w i t h Innocents ~brwc( t h a t one

suspects a direct 1 i terary influence. The f i r s t chapters of. Hy Discovery

of England are devoted almost entirely t o exposing the obsolescence of

travel writing industry and to exaggerating the numerousness of trans-

At1 antic travel authors. Under these 1 i terary circumstances, the ocean -

passage i t se l f warrants no report whatsoever: "I pass over the details of 1 '

my pleasant voyage from Mew York t o L iverpool . Dur ing the l a s t f i f t y

years so many t r a v e l l e r s have made the voyage across the A t l a n t i c t h a t

i t i s now impossible t o ob ta in any impressions o f the ocean o f the s l i g h t e s t >

commercial value. "4 Leacock's c r i t i c 1 sms of t h e genre a re i d e n t i c a l t o

I t 1 emens ' : the who1 e sub ject o f t r a v e l has been l u d i c r o u s l y over-wr i t ten.

(~eacock describes h imsel f as t r ave l1 i ng on a non-conmission from the

Nat ional Geographic Society; i n effect, he makes an anti-document

h i s journey.) Almost a l l the expos i t iona l content o f the t e x t i s

ou t o f

b u r l esque,

and the comparisons Leacock makes between the New World and the 0

parodies o f serious analyses o f f o re i gn manners. 5

I d a re

Leacock's l a t e r , Canadian t r a v e l book, My Discovery o f t he West B

(1937), announces a con t inu ing d i s s a t i s f a c t i o n w i t h the genre: " a l l

t r ave l - w r i t i ng , and t r a v e l -p i c tu res i n books are worn ou t and belong t o - -

a past age .... It i s no longer poss ib le t o t e l l anybody anything new about

anywhere."6 I n s p i t e o f t h i s o u t r i g h t dec la ra t i on aga inst the genre, cl

however, Leacock does )nore ser ious t r a v e l w r i t i n g i n t h i s volume than he

does i n My Discovery o f . England'. I n My Discovery of t h e Idst' n a r r a t i v e

s t i c k s t o i t i n e r a r y (which was abandoned soon a f t e r disembarkation i n

the Engl ish book) as Leacock makes h i s way across the con t inen t t o the *

Pac i f i c . Compendious data on demography, resources and i ndus t r y a re jo ined

t o The 1 inear sequence, along w i t h lengthy arguments on Settlement, t rade

and monetary po l i c y . L i k e Clemens on the Upper River, Leacock expresses

an ingenuous i n t e r e s t i n l o c a l s t a t i s t i c s . And, again l i k e Clemens on . h is t o u r of t he M iss i ss i pp i regions, Leacock on h i s Canadian t o u r

i n an apprec ia t i ve awareness o f those who have gone before, r e f e r r i n g

f requen t l y t o the progress o f e a r l y t r a v e l l e r s whose anc ien t routes h i s

own i t i n e r a r y i n t e r sec t s . These references do more ttp merely ornament

the t e x t f o r Leacock shares t he v i s i o n o f New W O R ~ explorers. L i ke

Jonathan Carver, he postu la tes un to l d r i ches i n t e r r i t o r i e s l y i n g beyond

h i s route , as we l l as accounting for the products o f the reg ions he

does v i s i t . Del ighted w i t h tabu la t ions o f abundance, he p ro j ec t s an -

A r c t i c p len i tude: "it i s l i k e l y t h a t a l l the wor ld ' s metals, and enough

o f them w i l l be found i n our f rozen t reasure house o f the North" (p. 99).

John Ga l t and h i s Bogle Corbet - (1831) prov ide another s e t of 1 i t e r a r y Z

precedents, o v e r t l y acknowledged by Leacock i n h i s admirat ion f o r the

effect iveness of G a l t ' s Canada Company i n r egu la r i z i ng nineteenth-century

immigrat ion. As Gal t expat iated on immigrat ion pol i c y i n Bog1 e Corbet,

so does Leacock present hi-s own elaborate sett lement schemes f o r the P

twen t ie th century.

I n many ways, My Discovery o f the West - seems a ra the r belated book,

e harkening back t o some venerable p r i n c i p l e s o f North American t r a v e l *

na r ra t i ve . Comparisons w i t h Jonathan Carver a re no t spurious. Carver

came t o see the conquest and conso l ida t ion of l a r g e t e r r i t o r i e s as l a r g e l y

a verbal mat ter : prose desc r i p t i on and no ta t i on began the process o f

ass im i l a t i ng new regions i n t o a cen t ra l c u l t u r a l and economic ~ % t u r e .

In the 19301s, near l y two cen tu r ies a f t e r Carver's' progress i n t o the

h in te r land , Leacock obeys a s i m i l a r impulse i n seeking t o u n i f y and,

organize h i s ideas o f Canada by drawing them a l l i n t o a s ing le , desc r i p t i ye

t e x t . Par ts o f Canada -- B r i t i s h Columbia, i n p a r t i c u l a r -- have a

decided aspect o f foreignness t o him bu t exo t i c q u a l i t i e s a re superseded -

by h i s v i s i o n o f p o l i t i c a l federa t ion and economic coherence. I n the

t e x t , t he idea o f f ede ra t i on i s expressed argumentatively through d i s -

curs ive expos i t ion, and expressed fo rma l l y by the l o g i c o f

na r ra t i ve which s t r i n g s together a sequence o f o f t e n s t a r t

parate s i t e s . Even i n .the twen t ie th century, Canada s t i l l

t h i s k ind o f na r ra t i ve t raversa l .

4;lar,

a journey

Stephen Leacock and Sara Jeannette Duncan supply some

which t o compare the Canadian t r a d i t i o n w i t h the Americas.

l i ng l - 9 d i

i n v i t e d

grounds I

We f i n d ,

fo r one th ing, t h a t Leacock's t o u r across the cont inent has, i deo log i ca l l y , 6

as much i n comnon w i t h eighteenth-century American pat terns i n t r ave l

n a r r a t i v e as i t has w i t h those of the nineteenth century. I n both

Duncan ' s and Leacock's view o f New World c i t i z e n s reconno i te r ing i n

i n t he Old a re elements corresponding t o ideas o f major American w r i t e r s .

But i n Canada the Jamesian " i n t e rna t i ona l " idea never took deep roo t ,

and the east-to-west cu r ren t of t r a f f i c prevai led. I t s l a s t -- o r l a t e s t

-- l a r g e f i g u r a t i o n i n Canadian l i t e r a t u r e comes t o us i n the t r a v e l s

and w r i t i n g s o f Freder ick P h i l i p Grove.

Incorporated i n Grove's 1 i f e and a r t are the c u l t u r a l p r i n c i p l e s

and 1 i t e r a r y values ev ident i n the Gareers o f New World journey-makers

of t he two preceeding centur ies . Grove's emigrat ion from Germany and

h i s nea r l y l i f e - l o n g wanderings produced both the c o n f l i c t and i n s p i r a t i o n

we can now recognize as inherent i n c e r t a i n t r ave l s i t ua t i ons : h i s t rans-

p o r t a t i o n l e f t him fee l ing s o c i a l l y d i s o r i e n t e d and discounted; h i s .

documentary a r t went towards re1 iev i r ig f e e l ings o f degradation by r e -

cover ing and perpetuat ing a verbal , cu1 t u r a l connection w i t h the world

he l e f t behind. For Grove, however, the p r o j e c t o f making and mainta in ing ,

those c u l t u r a l connections requ i red more than a d i r e c t address t o the

sympathetic European audience from which he -had been separated, f o r he

could no t be sure t h a t even t h a t comnunity- would be a t tend ing t o h i s

pronouncements. Through h i s a r t , Grove had t o labor ious ly reconstruct,

w i th some ingenious f i c t i o n s , h i s po in t o f o r ig in .

I t i s Grove's t rave l a r t ~ n d not h i s f i c t i o n tha t i n te res ts us here.

But once having defined the area o f our in te res t , we f i n d i t no easy matter

t o i s o l a t e h i s t rave l nar ra t i ve from h i s f i c t i o n . I n h i s oeuvre only

one book, Over P r a i r i e T r a i l s (1922), stands unequivocally i n the

documentary vein; even i t s sequel , The Turn o f the Year (1923), includes

fragmentary f i c t i o n s (which Grove c a l l s "vignettes" ) among sketches

o f country 1 i f e and b icyc le journeys. But The Turn of Year i s a simple

case compared t o Grove's I n Search o f Myself (1946), h i s long auto-

biographical account o f h i s wanderings i n Europe and North America. hat

book, long taken as a re1 i ab le record o f Grove's o r i g ins and career, was

exposed i n the ear ly 1970's by Douglas Spettigue as a curious concoction

of factual data and self-aggrandizing fantasy.' Exp lo i t ing documentary

form, engaging i n social commentary and philosophical excursus, Grove

described h i s actual and imagined journeys i n such a way as t o convince

h is audience o f the t r u t h o f h i s account. I n t h i s Grove par t ic ipated i n

one o f the t r i b u t a r y t r a d i t i o n s o f t rave l wr i t ing : he perpetrated a

hoax. L ike the author o f Zeno's voyages i n the sixteenth century, he used

the nar ra t i ve sequence o f i t inerancy, mixing f a c t w i t h unve r i f i ab le

fantasies, t o develop a ser ies o f events each o f which contr ibuted t o the

prest ige o f the t rave l1 i ng protagonist. And, 1 i k e the Zeno chronicler,

he evaded the s t r i c t e r responsi b i l i t i e s o f the re1 i a b l e t rave l narrator

by making only general references t o t ime and place once fantasy preempted

fact: the passage o f months and v e w s i s only general ly remarked and

and des t ina t ions are reported w i t h offhand care1 essness. For instance;

* a f t e r Grove's expedi t ion across S iber ia -- an expedi t ion he never made -- he t e l l s o f r e tu rn i ng t o Europe by a southern route : "There fo l lowed the

long voyage home, v i a Java, the por ts o f the Flalay Peninsula, two o r three

Ind ian c i t i e s , the Red Sea, dnd the f a m i l i a r ~ e d i t e r r a n e a n . " ~ To the

, experienced reader o f t r u t h f u l accounts o f t r ave l , there i s a t e l l - t a l e

vagueness about t h i s r e p o r t ( " two o r three Ind ian c i t i e s " ! ) , p a r t i c u l a r l y

i f i t i s compared t o t he minute s p e c i f i c i t y o f Grove's au then t i c t ravel '

w r i t i n g i n Over P r a i r i e T r a i l s and The Turn o f t he Year. - But h i s purpose

was served by represent ing these f i c t i o n s as veracious documentation. Jus t

as Zeno's "Discoverie" made i t s way i n t o Hak luyt 's f i r s t c o l l e c t i o n ,

Grove's na r ra t i ve was publ ished as f a c t and accepted as such.' He acquired

personal c ' redi t f o r the adventures described there in , as he would no t have

had he- publ ished h i s fan tas ies i n a novel i s t i c s t ruc tu re . With h i s

pseudo-documentary composit ion and the credul i t y o f h i s audience, he drew

h i s imagined s e l f o u t o f mind and i n t o the rea l world.

A1 though I n Search o f Myself re1 i e s f o r i t s shape and meaning on the

event o f Grove's move from t h e Old World t o the New, i t must be c l a s s i f i e d

gener i ca l l y as autobiography ra the r than t r ave l na r ra t i ve . Scene and

l o c a t i o n a re genera l l y o f l e s s consequence t h a t t h e career' and persona l i t y

o f the nar ra tor , and he i s more a hero than an expos i tor . However, the

book has so much i n comon w i t h Frances Tro l lope 's Domestic ~ a n n e r s of the

Americans, Susanna Moodie's Roughing It i n t he Bush and John Richardson's

E igh t Years i~ Canada t h a t f t must be admitted t o the tong t r a d i t i o n o f

North American t r a v e l w r i t i n g i n the a t t i t u d e s i t promotes and the v i s i o n

i t embodies. I t s f i c t i o n a l components a re a1 1 r h e t o r i c a l e laborat ions on

Grove's feelings of displacement and a1 ienation -- feelings which M r s .

Moodie and Mrs. Trollope expressed vigorously in their writings about

North America. Like Mrs. Moodie and Mrs. Trollope, Grove f e l t demeaned

and degraded in North America, unacknowledged and even despised; Like

t h e m , he resorted - to long expositional narrative to redress the offense

and recover his status. Unlike t h e m , however, he f e l t no conclusive

connection with a clearly identifiable audience sympathetic to his

argument. Grove's t ies with the Old World were ambiguous, tortuous and

attenuated.

In order to discuss In Search of Yyself i t i s necessary to consider

f i r s t the book which i n form and content i s i t s precursor, Grovel3 A , Search

for America (1927). The shaping event of each narrative i s identical : the

relocation of the narrator from Europe to America. In both cases, the move i s

precipitated by and associated w i t h . loss of caste. I n A Search for America

the story i s presented in such a way as to be overtly novelistic and

fictional and covertly factual; i n In Search of Myself the reverse i s true.

A Search for America - t e l l s of a young man's loss of fortune and prospect

in Europe, his consequent emigration to Canada, and his travels and ad-

ventures in the United States. Having enjoyed a youth of cultural refine-

ment and careless self-indulgence, the hero, Phil Branden, i s told by his '

father that the economic basis for his l i f e of elegant ease has vanished.

His fortune gone, Branden loses social status: his former companions reject

h im and he f a i l s t o secure preferment when he appeals to acquaintances in

official positions. S h u t out from his accustomed l i f e , Branden embarks for

the New World.

In many respects, his situation i s a familiar one. Like Susanna Moodie, /

rather t h a n endure a dhclasse - destiny a t home, he sets out reluctantly to

repa i r h i s fortunes. I n her in t roduct ion t o the f i r s t e d i t i o n of Roughing

It i n the Bush,.Yrs. Moodie wr i tes about the social circumstances

k v e l : " I n most instances, emigration i s a connected w i th t h i s k ind of -

matter of necessity, no t of choice; and t h i s i s more especia l ly t rue o f the

emigration of persons o f respectabl e connections, o r o f any s ta t i on o r

pos i t i on i n the world. Few educated persons, accustomed t o the refinements

and luxur ies o f European society, ever w i l l i ng l y re1 inquish those advantages,

and place themselves beyond the protect ive inf luence o f t he wise and ,

revered i n s t i t u t i o n s o f t h e i r nat ive land, without the pressure o f some

urgent cause" (p. xv ) . Grove represents Branden ' s:-"connections" as having

been a t l eas t "respectable" -- indeed, as nearly i l l u s t r i o u s -- and h i s

s ta t i on as eminent f o r so young a man. His educated mental i ty , he suggests,

amounts t o genius, and h i s habituat ion t o the "refinements and luxur ies

o f European society" i s profound. His emigration i s then, i n Mrs. Moodie's

terms, a d ras t i c occurrence, and scqrcel y has Phi 1 Branden d i sembarked

when he becomes aware o f having t rave l l ed far beyond the "protect ion" o f

European social structure. Aboard a t r a i n heading for Toronto, he i s

addressed by a fe l l ow passenger as "'me boy. "I Branden i s taken aback:

"Imagine him c a l l i n g me 'boy' -- me who had been rubbing e l bows w i th dukes -- and lords, "lo His experience i s not unprecedented. Yrs. Moodie suffered

being. ca l l ed "woman" by her ne ighburs a t Cobourg and, worse, Mrs. Trol lope

was ad&essed as' "old woman" i n Cincinnat i . For Branden, as for Yrs. Yoodie

and Mrs. Tro l lope, t h i s super f i c ia l instance o f North .American manners i s

a token o f a deeper phenomenon o f social insubordination. There i s more

t o i t than learning t o to le ra te informal address, for a l l Branden's mental

and cu l tu ra l assets are cal l ed i n t o question i n h i s social t rancact ions

i n North America. As he continues i n conversation w i t h the f r i e n d l y fe l low-

passenger he f e e l s he must conceal r a the r than declare h i s accomplishments:

"Sanehow I d i d not l i k e to' t e l l a h i m t h a t I was a l i n q u i s t , t h g t I had been

deep i n studies o f c l a s s i c a l archeology. I was a f r a i d I " igh t s ink too low

i n h i s est imat ion by admi t t ing scho la r l y propens i t ies" (p. 22) . This i s

Branden's f i r s t encounter w i t h the invers ion of t he soc ia l standards tte

has known: what i n Europe d is t ingu ished and fur thered him, i n America

diminishes and impedes him. His education counts f o r nothing -- o r l ess

than nothing, fo r he comes t o be l ieve t h a t i t i s a negative a t t r i b u t e i n

the New World, i ncu r r i ng the m i s t r u s t and l oa th ing o f North Americans.

He enters i n t o an anomic phase o f severe i s o l a t i o n and d i so r i en ta t i on :

I had stepped from what I could no t help regarding as a wel l -ordered, comfortable environment i n t o what had upon me the ef fec t of an u t t e r chaos. For the moment a l l human contact was non-existent. I f e l t t h a t no t on ly had I t o l e a r n a great many th ings, the soc ia l connections o f a world e n t i r e l y d i f f e r e n t from the world I knew, f o r instance; bu t I also had 1abor.tously t o t ea r down o r a t 1 east t o submerge what I had b u i l t up before -- my tastes, i nc l i na t i ons , in te res ts . My everyday conversation had so f a r been about books, p ic tures, s c i e n t i f i c esearch. Not a word had I heard o r spoken about these th ings s i 6 ce I had se t f o o t on t he l i n e r which took me across the A t l a n t i c (p. 39).

Two c r u c i a l consequences o f Branden's t ranspor ta t ion a re evident. F i r s t ,

anonymity be fa l l s him. His European i d e n t i t y i s now obsolete; i n America

no-one knows him (he i s on l y "boy") and t o merely surv ive he must " tear

down" o r "subnerge" t he temperament and mental i ty which had former ly i d e n t i - f i e d him (he was a l i n g u i s t and archeolog is t ) . Second, and most important

from a l i t e r a r y p o i n t o f view, he enters i n t o a regime o f s i lence. Not

., a word i s "heard o r spoken~ o f what had been h i s accustdmed in tercourse ,

w i t h h i s fe l low creatures. b

The f i r s t two sect ions o f the na r ra t i ve -- "The Descent" and "The

Relapse" -- describe Branden's employment as a wa i te r and a book-pedlar

and h i s attempts t o ge t on i n an ord inary way i n America. In both

sectjons his anonymity and reticence are factors of increasing importan%e.

I n the third section, "The Depths," they are enacted as the defini t ive

figure of his American experience. Branden becomes a tramp, passing into

a social void and becoming in every detai l a homeless a1 ien discovering a

vast continent. He acts out his alienation, set t ing off on foot i n a /;r

westward direct$( " I have l e f t the society of man. I am an outcast. ... I am alone; I stand against the world". ( p . 229). The silence t h a t now

descends uoon him i s complete. He avoids even the simplest contact w i t h

other men, skirting the verge of settlements and c i t i e s . The qualified

reticence which he remarked of h s t r a n s - ~ t l a n t i c voyage becomes

absolute as he i s "s i lent for days and dais a t a stretch" ( p . 232) . Within

th i s extreme design of isolation, silence becomes a tolerable aspect of

his alienation: "I established a mood which eliminated the feeling of

lone1 iness. I t may have been because I got used to being alone. That

t e r r ib le need for comnunication, for imparting to others what I garnered

i n impressions, moods, thoughts was on the wane" ( p . 235) . Itinerancy

seems to just ify or rationalize the silence i n Branden's l i f e . As a

wander*, he cannot or will not establish the social relations which

generate ta l k . Like Frances Trol lope, whose copious opinions and ideas

were stopped-up during her North American sojourn, Branden gets used to

verbal suppression.

B u t i t 1s not s t r i c t l y true that the traveller was freed of the

' t e r r i b l e need for comrmnication." I n I n Search of Myself Grove describes

the composition of the Phil Branden narrative: "in 1893, a t the end of

the year, I settled. down to .write the story of- what I had lived through

since ,August, 1892, T h e resul t was a manuscript o f , a t a conservative

e s t i m t e , hetwPPn f i v e and six hundred thousand beords whkh I called

A Search f o r America'" (p . 181). Grove's dating i s f a l s e b u t his idea about - writing i s hea r t f e l t : what was not expressible i n social intercourse was

imparted, i n a flood of garrulousness, in a l i t e r a r y form. When the time

came f o r speaking out , Grove compensated a thousandfold fo r the verbal

r e s t r i c t i o n s of l i f e i n the New World. And i t i s not only the condition

of s i lence which i s redressed by l i t e r a r y a c t i v i t y b u t a l so tha t of

anonymity. W i t h his two long narrat ives about his departure from Europe

and h is wanderings i n North America, Grove made u p f o r the lack of

social recognition by publishing the d e t a i l s of his ident i ty .

A t t h i s point, we must face the problems of Grove's self-misrepresent-

a t ion. Spettiguel,s inspired researches in to Grove's European past

r e v e a l 4 an impoverished, i r regular background which was a f a r cry from

t h e opulent or igins outlined i n A Search for America and constructed in

de ta i l i n In Search of \!yself. I t i s nearly impossible to c l a s s i fy con-

clusively Grove's social provenance:.he came from agrarian stock, b u t

before he was two years old his parents had l e f t the land and se t t l ed i n ,

Hamburg, where his fa ther found humble emoloynent with the c iv i c t r a n s i t

authori ty . As a c i v i l servant, Grove's fa ther gave his family some claim

to lower middle-class s t a t u s , b u t they cannot be cal led sol i d ly p e t i t -

bourgeois, so minor was the f a t h e r ' s o f f i c i a l s t a t ions as a tram conductor

and t i cke t co l lec tor . As a schoolboy, Grove developed seriou's scholarly

ambitions, and i n his l a t e r school years he consorted w i t h the children of

f a m i T i e s of higher social c l a s s . Over a period of two or three years during

his pung marrhood h e studied fntermi t t e n t l y a t German unTversities, but

never acauired a bachelor 's degree, He worked fur iously t o ing ra t i a t e him-

s e l f w i t h the l i t e r a t i , received sane modest recognition for h i s poetry

and translations, b u t ff nally faf led to secure the regard of the -

fntellfgentsfa. O u t of this confusfon of social influences and aspir-

atf ons comes a sense of Grove's ul tfmate classlessness and of his having

been socially up-rooted by hf s ambitions long before he l e f t for Canada.

Of one th ing we can be sure: Grove -- or Fel f x Paul Greve, as Spettique

df scovered him t o have been -- had 1 f t t l e to do w i t h "dukes and lords. "

Grove was no affluent gadabttt but a rather seedy translator, poet and

novelist, eventually imprisoned for debt and fraud. I t was this sordid

indebtedness, not the loss of a magnfffcent fortune, which led to hfs -

emigration. Spettigue reckons that Grove d i d n ' t arrive f n America until

1909 -- fifteen years la ter than he claimed. Perhaps the most interestina

aspect of this tangled web of subterfuge f s the credulf t y of Grove's

Canadian audience: partly through appeal ing to common fantasf es of exalted

1 f neage and lost ;bf rthrf g h t , and partly through employing the structural

principles 6f documentary- narratf ve and travel comnentary, Grove was accepted

as the man he wanted to" be. Melvf l l e , too, found his narrative of his

sojourn i n the Typee valley fully credited, his ex~osf tonal authorf t y

authentf catf ng hf s f f ctional extrapol ations on actual events: he became r.

"tne man who had lived among the cannibals." B u t Melvflle's intentions

were different from Grove's, having none of the social motives of Grove's

pseudo-documentarf es. Grove was creating credential s for himself, using -.., c

narrative t o supply the lack of official documents -- b i r t h cert if icate,

diplana, passport -- which would have described his origfns, assets and -

. travel s.

In his "Prologue" ' to In search of Yysel f Grove describes the occasion

of the book. His feelings of professfonal failure as a writer have been

crystal 1 ized, he says, by a previous evening's conversatbn wf t h a 1 i brarian

f r i e n d who showed him a newly published biography o f a "Frenchman,'still

1 iv ing, who f n my ea r l y days had been one o f my f ntfmates" (p. 3). The

success and fame o f t h i s former in t imate (whose i d e n t i t y i s only vaquely

del f neated bu t who f s take'n t o be ~ n d r 6 Gide) throws f n to r e l f ef Grove's

own fa1 l u r e t o win a reputat f on. A t the same time, h i s resurqent re-

col 1 ect f ons of the days when he consorted w i th "generals ," "ar is tocra ts "

and "venerable professors" contrast df smal l y w i th h i s fmnedf a te experf ence.

On t h f s day, he f s out t o fe tch f r a n a d e r e l i c t f a m a g f r l t o work as a , "household drudge" i n h i s own "ramshackle" house. He has t ime t o contem-

a p la te .his drear destf ny, f o r h i s car gets stuck f n the mud, and he must

waft for the loca ls t o cane out t o him whi le he bleats h fs horn t o a t t r a c t

thef r attentfon. His own obscurf ty f s f u r the r exaggerated when he cm-

pares f t t o the promf nent achievements o f the coter f e of which he clafms

t o have been a member: " o f t ha t group there was not one, except myself,

who, t h a t day, was not known beyond the confines o f h i s country" (p. 10).

Grove imtjh'es t h a t had he not relocated himself f n the New World he

would have found recogni t ion equivalent t o t h a t o f ,the.,lumfnarfes w i th

whom he says he was once on equal terms. The audience unavaf l a b l e i n

Canada would have been h i s i n Europe. Yet a l l f s not l os t , f o r he can

s t f 1 1 address the f ssue o f hf s demoral f zf ng anonym4 ty and, further,

redress the soc la l i n s u l t v f s i t e d upon hfm by North American cu l tu re ' (most r

surely f ndicated by th f s present$ muddy predf cament) . He can speak out, i *

through h i s a r t : "If I could explain, t o someone, why I had fa i l ed , the

expfmat ien might more than comp i nsate f o r the fa f l u r e t o have made myself

heard so fa r . Could I explaf n f t ? I d i d not know. I saw the reasons

c l e a r l y enough. I must t r y . And ' t o someone?' To whom? To whom but my

.. f r i e n d the young Frenchman who was-now a man o f seventy - o r

\ Grove i d e n t i f i e s h i s audience, imaginatively, as European.

more" (p. 11).

This long t a l k

-- the "explanation" -- now ut tered a f t e r years o f obscur i ty and silence,

w i l l be addressed t o the sympathetic in te r locu tor from whom h i s t rave ls

have separated hfm, not t o the uncomprehending Canadians who have so f a r

f a i l e d t o provide a proper audience. And, as he says, the explanation

"might more than compensateN for the years of being unh,eard. Reing unheard

and unacknowledged i s , i n fact, an i nsp i r i ng pat tern of experience i n

A Search f o r America and I n Search of wse l f . The lack o f sympathetic,

encouraging soc ia l r e l a t f ons leads t o 1 i terary work. Indeed, the prevalence

o f negative and an t ipa the t ic c u l t u r a l fac to rs becomes a motive f o r a r t .

Much l a t e r i n I n Search o f Myself, when h i s attempts t o establ ish himself

i n the regular network o f Canadian 1 i f e meet only ambiguous resu l t , Grove -

feels again the " t e r r i b l e need" t o comnunicate; he wants t o wr i te : " the

less congenial my surroundings became, the more i n s i s t e n t l y d i d my o l d

aims and aspirat ions t ry t o r a i s e t h e i r buried heads.. . .I1 (p. 295).

I n t r y i n g t o "explain" the signif icance o f h i s l a t e feelings o f

f a i l u r e and i s o l a t i o n ( a f t e r more than t h i r t y years i n ~anada) rove con-

s t ruc ts an elaborate European background t o h i s Canadian l i f e . He de-

scribes an in t imate bond w i th a b r i l l i a n t mother and an adversarial -

re la t ionsh ip w i t h a wealthy but spendthr i f t father. l1 Essential t o h i s

representation of h i s European pas r are ideas o f sumptuous securi ty: h i s

magnif icent home, "Castle Thuruw," i s a "world i n i t se l f . " And even when

young Grove i s away frcnn home, on h i s cont inental t ravels, he I s part. of

a c l e a r l y recognizable c m n i t y , attached as he i s t o h i s admired and

we1 1 -known mother: "No matter where my mother went, she dropped automatical ly

into milieus where i t established a higher claim to attention and even Y

R

distinction to have written a notable book, t o have painted an enduring

picture, to have carved a fascinating statue than to have amassed wealth '

3

or even to have ruled n a t i w " (p. 83). As he grows up, Grove acquires

his own social credentials and they are comparabte to his mother's: iP

"I had a talent for forming the centre of certain groups.. . . I don't inw

what i t was that gave me thfs power of forming a 'nucl.eus of crystalliz-

ation; I only knew I had i t " (p. 116). Certainly, these elements of the

narrative -- the "world i n i t se l f" of the boyhood hme, the milieu^"

i n every city, the "certain groups" of which Grove i s the ''nucleus" -- establish a sense of social coherence i n Grove's early l i fe . This

coherence fractures i n the re1 ocati on to North America.

In the Canadian west there are no "milieus," and social standards -3

for comnuni'ty membership are opposite to those .attributed to the

European circles Grove knew: wealth and political power carry the day.

And i f Grove once had a talent for being a "nucleus," he lost f t i n the

New World, where he seems to have repelled rather than attracted social

parttcles. Even when he leaves off itinerant labouring and takes up a

pedagogical career, he remains social ly is01 ated, demonstrating an

amazing resistance to assimilation. As pri cipal of the Winkler school 7+

i n Manitoba he finds tha t "any sort of social l i f e simply d i d not exist

for me. Even as a fan-hand I had.. .had moh human contacts.. . ."' (p. 273).

When he marries, he draws his wife into the void: a t Gladstone, %ocially,

we 1 ived, apart from the Anglican minister's family, i n as c m p k t e an

isolation as a t Winklerml (p. 291). Although Grove repeatedly expresses

feelings of profound a t tachent to Manitoba, the record of his 1 i f e there 5

discovers an inexorable i tinerancy.

Frances T r o l l ope found ext raord i nary d i f f i cu l t y i n making herse l f

understood by c i t i zens of. the republ ic, and Grove, too, f inds himself

incomnunicado i n the Canadian west. Mrs. Trol lope says she has had less

t rouble i n c m u n i c a t i n g w i t h non-English speakers than i n explaininq

herself t o Ameri cans, and, s ign i f i can t l y , Grove describes h i s own s im i la r

social predicament i n a l i n g u i s t i c conceit. He wri tes: "I f e l t an ex i le .

I was an ex i le . I d i d not l i v e among people o f my own kind; among people

who, metaphorically, spoke my language ...." (p: 235). During the Great

War, the people o f Gladstone become suspicious o f Grove's fo re ign or ig ins

and he despairs a t the p o s s i b i l i t y o f declar ing h i s special k ind o f - allegiance t o Canada: could the people o f Gladstone know about tha t? '

Could I even try t o explain i t t o them? I should have had t o speak an

English t o them as fo re ign as, l e t me say Czech. I had not even published

any one o f tqy books" (p. 292 ) .

"Language" here becomes a p i vo ta l device. On the one hand, i t figures

the regime o f s i lence Grove suffered i n h i s emiqration and h i s separation

from the. c u l t u r a l comnuni ty where h i s codes o f expression were understood.

It reminds us o f the l i n g u i s t i c , so la t i on endured by the a l i e n t r a v e l l e r f i n a fo re ign land. On the otJwphand, i t leads d i r e c t l y t o the idealof

a specia l i ied, 1 i terary use ,,6f t h i s a l i e n tongue, as the f i n a l sentence i n

the last-quoted passage shows. With mi t i n g and pub1 i c a t i o n cane fee l inps '

of membership i n sane c u l t u r a l and 1 i n g u i s t i c community -- remote o r hear.

Grove's f a i l u r e f i r s t t o publ ish and then t o f i n d a continuously responsive

audience i s the strongest s ignal o f the extremity and hopelessness o f h k

a1 ienat ion. I f he could reso r t t o the knowledge t h a t h i s language and

"explanation" are i n t e l l i g i b l e and heeded i n another place, he could we l l

withstand the h o s t i l i t y o f the comrmnities where he more o r less temporari ly

resides. He could re ly , as Susanna Yoodie did, on the long-distance

soc ia l connections brough about by pub1 ica t ion .

But un l i ke Susanna Moodie, o r Frances TroJlope, Grove had recourse t o

no re1 i ab le audience o r soc ia l group .abroad. As Spettlgue has shown, Grove

even i n Europe existed on the dim margins o f respectable society. The few

socia l t i e s which endured dur ing the f i n a l period o f h is European' l i f e

were negative ones, and he cu t them dec is ive ly w i th h i s f l i g h t . One o f the

most impressive statements o f both A Search for America and I n Search o f

Myself i s o f the extraordinary i s o l a t i o n o f the m i g r a n t narrators, f o r

Grove had no residual connections w i t h Europe. There was no one i n h i s

1 i f e t o f i g u r e ac tua l l y as the synpathetic rec ip ien t o f letters-home, and

no def inable soc ia l group w i t h which he could whole-heartedly i den t i f y and

which could f i gu re r h e t o r i c a l l y as an audience. As a consequence, a l l the

components o f author ia l i d e n t i t y and soc ia l o r i g i n which are understood

i n Roughing It i n the' Bush and Domestfc Manners o f the Americans must be

spel led out i n l av i sh d e t a i l i n I n Search o f Myself, and systematical ly

fabr icated ou t o f the ru ins o f Grove's former aspirations. I n l i e u of

pos i t i ve soc ia l attachments t o a European c u l t u r a l m i 1 feu,- Grove turns t o

fantasy t o substant iate h i s fee l ings of having once belonged t o a coherent

comnuni ty. So then i s h i s re la t ionsh ip t o the d i s t a n t audience postulated

i n the "Prologuen a fantasy, too, but a funct ional one rhe to r i ca l l y , for i t

y i e l d s the formal occasion o f h i s narrat ive.

Grove argues, through I n Search o f Myself, t ha t h i s own f a i l u r e t o

f ind a more i n e d i a te audience i s a caro l l a r y o f the imnaturi ty o f Canadian

cul ture. Even l a t e i n h i s career, he says, he underestimated " the capacfous

dearth of mature judgment and ,sure taste tn Canadian readers" (p. 407).

The modest international success he attributes t o his work ("I knew

that my books stood on the shelves of great European libraries, i n the

British Museum, i n the s ta te library of Berlin; among the antipodes a t

Canberra") has no currency i n Canada. The distant 1 i brarians and

arbiters who have accepted Grove's work have no authority i n Canada:

"they were so-called intellectuals; and i n Canada, so far , intellectuals

-" counted for nothing. Intellectually, Canada i s a chaos; the l i g h t has

not yet been divided f r m the darkness" (p. 426). Like John Richardson,

who desired the adulation of a reverent audience almost as much a3 Grove ?

d i d and who was also overtaken by poverty and obscurity, Grove laments

the failure of .Canada to acknowledge i t s ar t is ts . His grievances

ultimately focus on the failure of the Canadian socio-economic structure

t o accommodate a class of citizens unimplicated i n

of the cmunity. His long disquisition, near the

Myself, on the importance of Yleisure" to cultural

on the conditions which led to his own feelings of

the material economy ,

end of In Search of

advance, i s an attack

social and economic

classlessness. l2 Often i n Grove's autobiographical wr ' i t ing , audience .

and income are equivalent principles; his inability t o secure either are

indications of his social displacement i n North America. Like Susanna

Moodie, Frances Trol lope and John Richardson, oGrove fat led to get on

economically i n the New World. His a r t , like theirs, reflects his resent-

ment a t the ignominy he suffered a t the hands of a cut ture structured on

the principle of what James 'called "active pecuniary gain."

The para1 1 el s between ' Grove's career and Richardson's

further. Settled in a village i n Upper Canada, Richardson

can take us

f e l t that he

was being buried a1 ive. Immobi 1 ized there, snared by f i nancial attachments , Richardson saw in his residence morbid intimations; his morose depression

was relieved only by his i r r i ta t ion a t local manners and his yearning for

a more hospitable milieu. Similarly, Grove a t the end of his l i f e settled

a t Simcoe, Ontario, and comnitted himself through mortgage and other in - f

debtedness to permanent ,residence. The sf tuation aroused i n h i m attitudes

cmparabl e t o Richardson's : anxious feelings of powerlessness and demise,

as well as expostulatfons against the indifference shown him by the

Canadian comnunity. B u t unlike Richardson, who finally sold up and moved

on, Grove would travel no more. He 1 ived his last years a t Simcoe, and

died there, a1 though not without f i r s t expressing his desire t o be on 'his

way again. Remebering his earlier wanderings, he writes: "If there were

no responsibilities involved, I should gladly leave the place I live i n

and join the army of those who are on the road; and i f , as i t would be

bound to do, such a course, a t my age, led to my physicaT breakdown, I --

sould s t i l l take a savage sort of satisfaction out of the fact that I

should 'crack up' by the side of the t r a i l , by way of a protest against

what we call civilization. I apologize for the vehemence and vulgarity - of the expression; b u t only vehement and vulgar expressions are a t a l l .

adequate to the case" (p. 449). W i t h i n a scheme of perpetual itinerancy,?

Grovels feelings' of a1 ienation have significance: his death would be a

"protest" and public statement. W i t h i n a confining network of economic

attac,hments, he faces a l l the social indications of his failure and

power1 essness ; his preoccupation w i t h debt suggests a recurrence of the

desperation which led to his fl ight from Germany. Yet even i n the face

of this demoralizing permanence, Grove can get up to his old tricks,

evident i n this passage where, w i t h the punctiliousness of his diction,

he dra* a t ten t i on t o the linguistic $ d i s t i n c t i o n between htmself and

the c m u n i ty. "'Crack up' " seems idi 'dmatical ly inoffensive but Grove

no t on ly disclaims h is p a r t i n i t s eurrency but uses the phrase as i f i t

were a fore ign coinage. A t the same time, h i s t rave l and autobiographical

wr i t ings are ' l a t i n phrases, as wel l a s ~ s c i e n t i f i c

designations which receive no i s o l a t i n g quotation marks. By persevering

i n h i s use o f d i c t i o n t h a t i s o f ten conspicuously learned o r expert, he - m a j n i 4 h e 1 i ngui s t i c b a r r i e r between himself and h i s uncomprehending

audience. Par t o f the meaning o f h i s wr i t ings comes from his use of an

elevated idiom. fie thys expresses h i s membership i n a speci f ic l i n g u i s t i c

c m u n i t y , and, conversely, h is a1 ienat ion from loca l usages.

I n Search o f Myself i s a product o f inauspicious residence; Over

P r a i r i e Tra i 1 s a product o f propi ti ous i tinerancy. The differences between

the two books can be measured I n terms o f t h e i r disparate occasions. - I n

Search o f Myself i s a compensatory composition. As an "explanation" i t

makes up ' f o r the anonylhi ty and degradation Grove experienced i n North

America and presents a h igh ly ornamented version df h i s European past, \

by way o f supplying the soc ia l i d e n t i t y and class membership he d i d not

f i n d i n Canada. I n t h i s respect I n Search o f Myself i s a r h e t o r i c a l l y

successful tex t . I t s success i s demonstrated not on ly by the c r e d u l i t y

Grove's readers but as we l l by the numerous re i t e ra t i ons o f t h i s fabr icated .

biography i n commentary on Grove's work. Right i n t o the 1970's, u n t i l

Spettigue' s researches began t o receive wide at tent ion, c r i t i c s repeated

the s to ry o f eminent beginnings i n Europe, f i n d f ng it, perhaps, especia l ly

appropriate t o same current ideas about the neglect o f a r t and a r t i s t s i n

canada.13 ifice launched i n a documentary farm, Grove' s f i c t i o n s about

himself made t h e i r way i n t o the stock o f informational wr i t ing.

Stationed permanently a t Simcoe, w i t h no hope of escape through re-

newed travel, Grove resorted to fantasy to explain his alienation. On

the road, however, i n the period described i n Over Prairie Trails, the

actual form of Grove's 1 i fe accounted for his attitude of detachment.

Documentary ar t , virtually without fictional elaboration, fully expressed

his view of himself and his environment. In In Search of Myself he

describes this interval when domestic arrangements necessitated -- or B

invited -- weekly travels as the "happiest year of our 1 ives" (p. 319)

and Over Prairie Trails as an "inspired book" (p. 442).

The occaslon of Over prairie Trails -- so f i t t h g to Grove's mentality

-- was this: i n the winter of 1917-1.8 Grove taught i n Gladstone; his wife

and daughter 1 ived i n an isolated teacherage at Falmouth, thirtoy-five miles '

away, where Mrs. Grove taught. Each Friday, Grove travelled by horse and

buggy or, later i n the winter, by horse and sleigh, to Falmouth. Each

Sunday he returned t o Gladstone. In making these t r ips , Grove showed

that his attachments were elsewhere than i n Gladstone, where he worked.

A t the same time, by working and 1 iving five days a week i n Gladstone, \

he made timself only a visi tor a t Falmouth. In effect, he belonged

on the road, as he travelled the route that became for

of his l i fe .

As i n classic travel narrative, the journey is a l l i n Over Prairie

Trails. Only the most meagre details h i n t 'at the conditions of the

traveller 's l i f e a t each end of the axis. The self-aggrandizing "I"

of In Search olf Myself, ext~wagantly ztectnnulating attributes, I omtng

eve$ larger, i s not present i n Over Prairie Trails. Instead, the travels

predominate and the narrator i s only their agent. They become a text i n

themselves, a "thing of beauty" and a raison d1;tre. Grove writes i n his

preface: "These drives, the fastest of which was made i n somewhat over

four hours and the longest of which took me nearly eleven -- the rest /' of them averaging pretty well up between the \two extremes -- soon became '

what made l i f e worth living. IN 14 I

Over Prairie Trails opens i n a straightforward way consonantewith the

linear strictness of travel writing. The narrator makes a bold, bald

departure, getting out and away without ado: " A t ten minutes past four,

of an evening late i n September, I sat i n the buggy and swung out of the

livery stable that boarded horse" (p. 1). But the simplicity and

directness of this reported embarkation belies the structural complexity

of Over Prairie Trails. This complexity is not like that of A Week on

the Concord and Merrimack Rivers; Grove employs neither excursus nor

divagation t o enhance his compact narrative. Digression i s rare, and where

it does occur i t i s closely allied to the movement of the traveller. On

the few occasions when the narrative appears to pause, i t is the narrator's

attempt t o secure an exact representation of what he sees, to develop

similtudes or to penetrate appearances that arrests narrative advance.

In this, Grove's documentary prose i s comparable to Thoreau's i n The Maine

Woods, or to William Bartram's i n his Travels. With-his meticulous

percipience and his expert diction, Grove joins the tradition of the lone

naturalist. ,P /

Where structural complexity i s evident i n Over ~ r a i r t e Trails i s .

i n Grove's reduction of an actual total of seventy-two drives to a text

of seven (each contained by a discrete chapter) and his further dfstflfation

of the numerous journeys to suggest one long, difficul t, exhi larating

passage through a winter landscape. The route never becomes familiar, i n

sp i te o f the observer's c lose a t ten t i on t o par t icu lars . Each week's

d r i ve 3s a journey i n t o the unknown and an encounter w i t h exot ic

desolation.

Grove's route (or routes, f o r the seasons de f l ec t h i s cross-country

* purpose and heavy snow force him t o circuitousness) i s not a conmonplace

one, even though i t connects establ i s hed c m u n i t f es and passes through

se t t l ed areas. Without exception, Grove i s the only t rave l l e r abroad

i n the seven dr ives reported. The tracks o f other t rave l l e rs are seldom

encountered, and the few farms he passes show only neg l i g ib le h u ~ n signs. , I

The region through nhich he passes i s u4 r tua l l y unpeopled, and Grhve 1 i k e --A i t t h a t way. bdeed, he f i n d s an exqu is i te ly insu la r secur i ty i n pursuing

=

h is lone ly course. During the d r i ve described i n the chapter "Fog," he

experiences a benign i so la t i on : "I was shut in, closed o f f from the

world around.. . .It was l i k e a very small room, t h i s space o f l i g h t -- the ' buggy i t s e l f , i n darkness, forming an alcove o t it, i n whtch my hand knew

every well-appointed d e t a i l . Gradually, whi le I was warming up, a sense

o f i n f i n i t e -comfo r t came, and w i t h i t the enjoyment of the e l v i s h aspect"

(p. 32). I n the chapter "Snow," the very absence o f avenues o f human con-

t a c t seems t o re in fo rce h i s pleasure i n h i s t ravels : "None o f the farms

which I passed s h a d the s l i g h t e s t sfgns of l i f e . I had wrapped up again

and sa t i n comparative comfort and a t ease, enjoying the c lear sparkle

and g l i t t e r of the snow" (p. 70). Out here, on the road, the s i lence which

descends on the s o l i t a r y t r w e l l e r i s a s a t t t t a ~ y condition, making a kind

of p s y ~ o ' l o g i c a l s h l t e r for M s #oughts. Free uf fR1Qtrtghg Offfnbns,

h is menta l i ty ranges round him as he scrut in izes the const i tuents o f the

scene and surveys natura l phenomena. f he t r ave l 1 er ' s scope, circumscrf bed

by the extent of his perceptions and speculations, makes a social world - --

appropriate t o Grove's sensibil i ty: he is the so le human factor, positioned

centrally, a "nucleusit again.

.The exercise of f n q u f r i n g perceptf on achieves th i s egocentrtc prospeet

and builds the "small room" of consc~ousness. So, too, does the subsequent

7 f terary act iv i ty contri bute: " ' Observing, ' " says Grove, "means t o me as

much f i n d i n g words to express what I see as i t means the seeing I t se l f " -

(p. 108). The text ("words to express what I seeu) subs*tantiates Grove's

role as a lone, central witness, and extends that position into a broader

social context by presuming an audience for the journey document-

Imnediately fol low1 ng his description of the hermetic security and "elvish"

comfort discovered i n the fog, Grove's observations beqin to work outward

from th i s privacy to acquire materials for his text: " I began to watch the

fog, By bending over towards the dashboard and looktng into the soon

arrested glare I could make out the c ~ p o n e n t parts of the fog" (p. 32).

HSs analyses of fog, of hoarfrost, of snow and d r i f t , compare w i t h

Thoreau' s examinations of seaweed I n Cape Cod, or of phosphorescent woad

i n The Maine Woods. For bo th Groye and Thoreau, the informational content

of the exposition i s important b u t s t i l l ' secondary t o the aesthetic aim of

presenting the intel lectual occasion of systematfc analysis of natural

objects and actions. Through the a ~ p l i c a t i o n of fnvesttqative tn te l l ec t

and precise, often sclentif i c d i ction, Grove and Thoreau appropriate parts

~f the ter ra ln , making small mans and private places,

For each writer, t h i s Ii W a r y tenancy offers a-Werpaise_tbhis

economic exclusion frun other forms of ownershtp. In bo th A Search for

Pnzerica and In Search of Myself, Grove declares, through rubric a d epigraph

and through arguments w i t h i n the texts , his admiration for Thoreau's social

philosophy and for the easy terns on which Thoreau engaged poverty. These //+-

.. aspects of Thoreab's career seem, however, to have remained unattainable

(and perhaps undesired) ideals for Grove, and the dispar i t ies between

Thoreau ' s 1 i f e and rove's are conspicuous. Thoreau stayed p u t , product-

ively; Grove wandered endlessly, only t o feel a baleful despair when

domiciled permanently a t Simcoe. Thoreau's righteous pleasure i n the

decency of poverty need only be compared w i t h Grove's nearly senile

fantasies about wealth f n In Search of Myself t o reveal the distinctions

separating the soctal mental i t i e s of these two writers. Where Grove

does meet Thoreau on comnon ground i s t n his use of expository language

in documentary narrative.

When Grove i s a t his best, he achieves the kind of elevated document-

ation and heightened reaiism that Thoreau created out of the actual events

.. of the Cape Cod and Mine journeys. In Chapter 4, 'Snow," he is confronted

w i t h a drift as h i g h as the adjacent tree-tops and i n surmounting th i s

magnificent obstacle ( " th i s l a s t , inhuman dr i f t , " as he l a t e r ca l l s i t ) he

achieves a maent of revelatory, nearly unnervi ng perception which, i n the

t e l l ing, compares t o Thoreau' s ascent of Ktaadn: *

What lay t o the r i g h t o r l e f t seemed not to concern me. I watched r the horses: work. They went i n bounds, working beautifully to- gether. Rhythical ly they reared, and rhythmically they plunged. I had dropped back t o the seat , holding w i t h a firm hand, fee t braced against the dashboard; and whenever they got ready t o rear, I called

+ to t h e m i n a lon and quiet voice, "Peter -- Dan -- now!" and thei r msctes flayed wm T & e f f o r t of-desperatton; It probabty did not take more, than f ive minutes, maybe considerably less, before we had reached the top, but to me i t seemed l ike hours of nearly f ru i t l ess endeavour. I d i d not rea1ize.at f i r s t that we were high. I shall never forget the wef rd kfnd of astonishnent when the fact came home t o me t h a t what snapped and crackled i n the snow under the horses'

' hoofs, were the tops of trees. Hor s ha1 1 the feel t ng of estrange- men t , as i t were -- as i f I were not myself, h u t looking on from

the outside a t the adventure of somebody who yet was I 2- the feeling of other-worldliness, if y ~ u will pardon the word, ever fade from my memory -- a feeling of having been carried b,eyond my depth where I could not swim -- which came over me when w i t h two quick glances to r i g h t and l e f t I took i n the fact that there were no longer any trees to ei therdide, tha t I was above the P

forest world which had so often engulfed me (p. 86). v =

In this instant of exultant travel, Grove has journeyed further than ever

before, into an "ot her-world1 i ness" that es tab1 i shes a narrative pinnacle.

He has been carried o f f into a foreign region where he i s momentarily

disoriented and not himself i n the secoqds before the plunging descent

begins. Rid ing h i g h , Grove and his aerial sleigh are much

image or transcendent metaphor. They are a wild, extraord

No fictions are necessary to redeem Grove's sense of self.

argument nor vehemence i s required to "explain" the author

audience's attention.

more than an

inary actual i ty.

Net ther

' s claim to his

The impulse which sends Grove out on his dangerous travels i s a

repudiation of sedentary values. On the whole, the townspeople are

against his drives. They do nothing to expedite his hasty departures;

they often counsel against his excursions; once they actually stand i n

his way, causing a serious delay. By way of justifying the resolute ~ "

purpose which each week shnt him forth, Grove writes, i n his preface: "I

disliked the town, the town disliked me" (p. x i i i ) . This mutual dislike

i s tolerable as long as the route i s open to the desolate emptiness of

the winter terrain. Then the antipathy between Grove and the comnunlty

i s a positlve condition, for the ntental resolve which carries h i m over

these treacherous t r a i l s springs out of h i s alienation. a is successful

travels are i n effect subversive; they declare his independence of the

social group which trfes to absorb and assimilate h i m and his contempt for

the civic delegation which obstructs his exit from the school one Friday

afternoon. Grove's dealings w i t h the comnunities i n which he taught

seemed always t o have assumed t h i s p o l i t i c a l character and perhaps only

i n t h l s winter o f 1917-18 d i d he have the wherewithal t o tr iumphantly

r e s i s t soc ia l coerclon and disregard the pe t t y doings o f school boards.

More than any other o f h i s wr i t ings, Over P r a i r i e T r a i l s expresses

fo r t i tude. #

The resolve by which Grove negotiates5 the hazards o f h is route and d

dismisses the socdal impedimenta which would f o r e s t a l l him i s one leve l

o f the mental a c t i v i t y brought about by h is weekly t ravels. On another

leve l i s the incessant, persevering appl i c a t i o n of I n t e l l e c t t o 'fssues I

peripheral t o h i s route -- t o snows, skies, d s t s , and thpe ra tu res as

natura l forms. I n Chapter 5, "Wind and Naves," he conducts serious in - t :F-

vest igat ions o f the in te rvent ion o f the wind i n the d e s e n t of the snow,

not ing the t ra jec to ry by which each f l a k e passes from sky t o earth: "I

watched t h i s w i th a l l the utmost e f f o r t o f a t ten t ion o f which I was capable.

I became intensely in terested i n my observations" (p. 99). He repor ts hts

f ind ings i n de ta i l , on ly p a r t l y w i th a vlew t o t h e i r informational content,

f o r the elegance and universal i t y o f the apprehended pat tern -- the

"unanimous, synchronous march of a1 1 the f lakes coming down over hundreds

o f square mi les" -- have an aesthet ic au thor i ty i n themselves. And h i s

observations on nature have a f u r t h 6 r resu l t : they se t him apart from the

c m u n i ty he leaves behind each Fr iday afternoon. "I am aware," he writes,

" t ha t nobody -- nobody whoni I know, a t l eas t -- takes the s l i g h t e s t i n te res t

tn such things" (p. 99). His narrat ive, then, does not address the

population o f Gladstone, f o r i t i s ind i f ferent , but some other audience

which shares h i s re f ined s e n s i t i v i t y t o the i n t r i c a c i e s of natural design.

The more involved and subtle his findings, the further he departs the

community i n which he lives.

When St . Jean de ~r&ecoeur 's farmer assumed the task of describing

for a distant audience rural l i f e i n the New World, his wife warned h i m L

that he risked alienating himself from the local community and jeopardizing ,'

his economic station. In spite of her cautionings, he proceeded -- and

found himself Irreversibly, nearly fatal ly estranged from American society.

Unlike the letter-writing farmer, Grove has nothing to lose i n his ,

practice of the naturalist 's a r t , for he holds no very secure economic

place anyway. And the political consequences of f s detached, spectgtorial

stance are certafnly less catastrophic: he only makes his annual transfer

to another school, leaving behind civic hostility. B u t he does mark, w i t h

his excursions and methodical notations, the same separation from i n -

digenous culture and economy which was the lot of Crbvecoeur's narrator.

In one way, the comparison between Grove and ~revecoeur's farmer i s

more closely pertinent to The Turn of the Year. In parts of that book

Grove represents hfmself as a country-dwel ler , ordf nari ly fmpl icated f n the

regular business of agrarian l i f e , just as the fictional narrator of the

Letters i s involved i n rural employments. These parts begin and end the

book. The central portion of the text describes a serfes of bicycle

journeys between Falmouth and a more northerly settlement, Lei fur. There, in

the middle section, he fs on the road again, independent and se t apart as

he is In Over Pralrfe Trails.

Of the f i r s t six chapters of the book, three -- "The Thaw-Up," "The

Woods i n June" and " A Storm i n July" -- describe vernal renewal and

sequences of fer t i 1 i ty. (The other three, interning1 ed, are fragmentary

f i c t i ons. ) I n these descr ip t i ve chapters, Grove frequently uses "we"

t o represent the observer and thus suggests a community o f perception o f

which the narrator i s part. For example, he becomes a spokesman f o r

l oca l experlence when he wri tes: "we fo l low the tracks o f the rabb i ts - t o where they have gnawed the boles of the young aspens; and we read the

in te r lac ing , busy-looking spoors o f the prair ie-chickens ..... "15 He i s

even, a t some leve l , a p ropr ie to r through the agency o f h i s perceptions

i n t h a t the bush reveals i t s e l f .to him "as i t w i l l t o him only who owns

it because he has appropriated i t w i th h i s love ra tber than h i s pocket-

book" (p. 70). L ike Thoreau, who was a " large owner I n the Merrimack

intervals," Grove has a stake i n t h i s place. I n the descr ip t i ve chapters,

he presents c y c l i c a l time, recurrences ra ther than occurences, and h i s

perspective i s f i x e d and local . However, i n the long Chapter 7, "The

Gloom o f Sumner," which comprises one-third of t he text , he abandons

the pronominal p lu ra l and the c y c l i c a l chronology. A t the same time,

he returns t o a 1 inear chronology and t o the journey form for nar ra t i ve

structure. Grove i s on h i s own again.

As in Over P r a i r i e Tra i l s , Grove i n "The Gloom o f Summer" i s

separated from h i s fami ly -- Mrs. Grove and t h e i r c h i l d remain a t

Falmouth whi le he teaches a sumner term a t L e i f u r -- and he makes weekly - twenty-f ive m i l e journeys t o pass h i s weekends w i t h them. Once more, he

belongs nowhere -- a t ne i ther L e i f u r nor Falmouth -- having given up C

the praprtetorshfp and soctal membership suggested I n the e a r l i e r sections

o f the book. And, again, the documentation of h i s lonely journeys makes

a luc id , c m p e i l i n g tex t .

T rave l l ing nor th from Falmouth f o r the f i r s t time, Grove f i nds t h a t

he has come far. He enters a strange region remote from the strawberry-

covered fields around the cottage a t ~almouth:

Dark, unknown, and gloomy, the shade of n i g h t seemed to crouch i n these woods, ready to leap out on the clearings and the road, as soon as the sun should sink, threatening w i t h incomprehensible potentialities. Somehow these woods reminded me of Darwin's description of the fores,ts of Tierra del Fuego. I could not get rid of the feel f ng that they were not a monument of the intensity of l i f e so much as rather one of everlasting death i tself . Not growth seemed t o predominate, b u t what we call decay, though that i s merely one of the forms of growth (p. 135).

The intimate familiarity w i t h nature w h i d informs the f i r s t part of the

book disappears as Grove penetrates these "unknown" forests. Although he

i s :ess than twenty-five miles from his point of departure, he i s embarked

on an exotic and seemingly perilous adventure. Like Thoreau, who could

discover unheard-of marvels only a few miles out of Concord, Grove i s

. aler t to every sign of foreignness. And like Thoreau a t the seashore,

Grove discovers in ' this far country spectral intimations of death and

c habf: Qange fascination seemed t o impel me to peer into the mysteries

of the shade. Grey, formless shapes seemed to f l i t to and fro. The

dim, indistinct visibil i ty that lurked there seemed personified: i t was

insanity perched on a rotting branch" (p . 135). Grove's sumner sojourn

a t Leifur has this macabre aspect, although i t s un earthliness i s somewhat

mediated as he becomes more familiar w i t h his surroundings, measuring

daily temperature differentials or the excrescent young shoots of an oak.

S t i l l , the sullen northern sumner has a persistently estranging effect on

the visitor, The woods here, says Grove, are "gloomy, elemental, terrible

I n their gloom, w i t h the terror t h a t attaches t o a l l originsn (p. 137).

Certainly, there i s no question of staying on i n this anfnous, murky

location, and Grove departs promptly when the term ends.

Grove's expressions of attachment t o other parts of the Manitoba

landscape are numerous. When he and his family f i r s t saw the isolated

teacherage a t Falmouth, Grove f e l t he had f i nally come home. In - In

Search of Myself he writes about this feeling:

The nearest farm was a mile away. The desolation of i t all touched the innermost chords of my soul and made them v i brate.

I t was no th ing short of a revelation. 1, was a t home here (p . 300).

Actually, this was Grove's second homecoming. The f i r s t occurred, he

says, du r lng an expedition t o the Arctic in his youth. His journey across

the Si beri an steppes touched those " i nnermost chords," too:

the steppe g o t under my skin and into my blood. Life as a student i n Paris, l i fe i n the various parts of the world through which I was to hurry durinq the years t h a t followed; paled i n my eyes when- ever I thought of the steppes; and only when I struck my roots into the west of Canada d i d I feel a t home again .... Perhaps, f n this experience, I must look for the reason why, when stranded in Ameri-ca, I remained in Canada and clung t o i t with my soul t i l l i t had re- placed Siberia as the central fact i n my a d u l t mentality. Like Siberia, Canada needed t o be fought for by the soul ; b u t very few *_ Canadians know i t (In Search of Myself, p. 150).

Grove made no Arctic expedition, and hfs experience of the steppes is a

fantasy. And, in a way, his experience of homecoming a t Falmouth is a

fantasy, too. He installed his wife and child i n this vast and, to h im, c

endearing desolation b u t he himself 1 ived a t Gladstone. And the "roots" #'

4

he struck in the Canadian west were shallow and portable. Except for the

fen early chapters of The Turn of the Year, Grove's descriptions of the

Canadian landscape are those of an attentive, appreciative b u t alien

wayfarer. Like Samuel Hearne on the Arctic coast, like !dilliam Bartram

i n the wilderness of Florida, 1 ike Thoreau in the damp forests of Maine,

Grove was exploring -- and the texts of his explorations are as coherent

as those of any true discoverer. Grove arrived in the Mew !dorld as an

a1 fen traveller and he remained, that. Even af the end of his l i f e he

wanted to se l l

perfect a r t -- o f the Year -- his best as an

u p and move on, and detach himself once more. His most

Over Prai r ie Trails and "The Gloom of Summer" i n The T u r n

follows the formal values of travel narrative and Grove a t

a r t i s t was Grove as a traveller.

B u t th is leaves the question of the radical division i n Grove's a r t 4,

which separates the exhaustive veraci t y of his travel narrati ves from the d

breathtaking 1 ies of his autobiographical writings. Over Prair ie Trails

seems not only an " i nspired" book, bu t one t o which Grove's destiny led

him. B u t so i s In Search of Myself a necessary complement to the ea r l i e r

document. Unlike Bartfam or Hearne or Thoreau, Grove went out on his

journeys from no clearly defined point of departure: certainly he did not

originate in Gladstone and his audience was not to be found there. As he

says over and over in In Search of Myself, he has had no audience, or no

adequate audience. This grievance becomes a refrain -- sometimes doleful,

sometimes s h r i l l , somettmes resigned -- in his autobiographical writings,

and his lack of a,public becanes a figure of his alienation. Grove speaks

another language, his voice i s unheard, his manuscripts are returned t o h i m

unread. Up against th is social void and implacable silence, Grove con-

s t ructs , in In Search of Myself, a met~culously imagined system of

origins and a vehement sense of having

entertain any idea of returning there:

fantastical as the Siberian-expedi tion

Castle Thurow. B u t he can map out the

come from somewhere. He cannot

the return-trip would be as

and the destination as illusory as 9

course of his a r t and the direction

o f i t s address towards t b culture he has departed. He can conceive of an

understanding 1 istener who shares his own values and outlook, and his

4 57 *

h

wr i t ings thus acquire an essenti transmissi b i t i ty. The

celebrated "Frenchman" invoked i n the preface t o In Search o f Myself

acts,. rhe to r i ca l l y , as a receiver of 'Grove's comnunications, whi le the r fantasy o f ear ly int imacy w i t h Gide and the comnunity he represents

stands f o r rove's European c u l t u r a l attachments. W i t h h i s f i c t i ons

o f h i s or igins, Grove creates h i s own audience f o r the Story o f - h i s

t rave l s.

We can compare Grove t o Frances Trol lope and Susanna Moodie i n h i s

feel ings of soc ia l estrangement, h i s compensatory 1 i te ra ry a c t i v i t y , and

h i s a loo f resistance t o assimi lat ion. Yet he f i n a l l y d i f f e r s from theni

i n h i s extraordinary i sol a ti on, and h i s 1 one1 i ness. Grove be1 onqed nowhere.

He had burned h i s bridges, and h i s expressions o f soc ia l membership i n a

d is tant , o r i g ina t i ng comnunity were fantast ica l f i c t i ons . Even before he

crossed the At lan t ic , he had been spurned and re jec ted by the soc ia l

groups t o which he yearned t o belong. F e l i x Paul Greve was dead t o the

world he l e f t behind: i n ex t r i ca t i ng himself from shady and even cr iminal

involvements i n Germany, he feigned suicide;16 i n h i s passage across the

A t l a n t i c he d i d n ' t even carry w i th him h i s own name. The "s i lence of the

grave" which Susanna Moodie f e l t c los ing over her as former attachments

sh r i ve l l ed was something Grove brought on himself. When he broke the

si lence w i th h i s wr i t ing , he wrote i n English, thereby only i n d i r e c t l y

addressing the 11 te ra te German c m u n i t y t o which h i s d ic t ion, h i s values

and h i s excursive arguments speak. But Canadian readers intercepted the

message from the New World: by way of a knotty paradox, when Grove f i n a l l y

d i d f i n d h i s audience, i t was North h e r i c a n and no t European, The

"Frenchman" l e f t behind so many years before was sure ly not attending t o

Grove's "explanat.ion," but Canadians. were, a t las t .

I n th i s , we can see a l a rge r , generic development beyond Grove's

personal career. The European readers of t ravels, t o whom Mrs. Moodie

and Mrs. Tro l lope conf ident ly appealed, no longer formed a s i g n i f i c a n t ?

l i t e r a r y public. (We can look a t t h i s development from another angle,

Roughing It i n the Bush has, i n the twent ieth century, s h i f t e d i t s pJace:

i t i s now a ,pa r t o f Canadian l i t e r a t u r e , not B r i t i sh , and i t s readers

are Canadian, not Engl lsh. ) Grove,could not get a ready hearing from j

the cu l tu re from which he derived h i s sens ib i l i t y , menta l i t y and education, - -.

for i t was no 1 onger paying close a t ten t i on t o commentaries on New World

travels. But ne i ther was the Canadian community l i s t e n i n g r e a d i l y and

i n t e l l i g e n t l y t o h i s incomprehensibly fore ign utterances. To win him

social recognit ion, Grove's a r t had f i n a l l y t o appeal t o something other I

than the cur ios4ty o f an audience in terested i n documentations of North 4

American journeys. As i t turned out, the e f f e c t i v e appeal was t o be

h i s long "explanation" of,"MY LIFE AS A WRITER I N CANADA," se t t i ng out

the consequences o f h i s separation from the o r i g ins o f h i s 1 i t e r a r y

sens ib i l i t y . His address was successful i n the end: the Canadian l i t e r a t i

acknowledged h i s c laim t o t h e i r a t ten t i on on t h e very grounds he wished,

re1 i shing Grove's impeccable pseudo-credential s. rove was acclaimed,

and h i s fantasies of eminent beginnings i n Europe were perpetuatzd. Now

the s to ry o f h i s t rave l s was complete.

Grove's w r i t i n g provides a f i t t i n g coda t o the l a s t phase o f the t r a v e l 1

genre's developnent. His soc ia l observations are i n the best t r a d i t i o n

o f t rave l commentary, y e t they are fraught w i th a poignant, inconclusive,

nearly t rag i c lonel iness f o r there could be no thought of homecoming and

santuary for Grove. Against the desolate - reaches he traverses, Grove i s

a solitary figure, contesting his isolation, yet cherishinq it. His

deeply f e l t desire to maintain his European ,cut tural connections i s often " the motive for his a r t -- as that desire was the inspiration for the

writings of other travellers. B u t i t also preempts his documentary a *

purpose i n i t s demand that the writer's feelings of dislocation and dis- '

possession be vociferously, loudly proclaimed sa there could be no mistake.

Mrs. Moodie and Mrs. Trollope could have their say and count on their

audiences ' understanding of the absurdity of their social predicament.

Grove, on the other hand, could enjoy no comparable confidence. The

traditional 1 i terary connections between the Old World and the New no

longer prevailed. Grove couldn' t be sure where his - audience lay, and

he had to enforce his case w i t h fiction and fantasy to make his point.

This may account for the often frantic seriousness and humourlessness

of his autobiographical wri t i n g as he takes h i s reluctant reader by the

lapels and s i t s him down to listen to hds fervid explanation.

Grove was a man socially and economically adrift , b u t culturally

bound fast t o a milieu i n which he could no longer claim even the tenuous

position he once held. As an emigrant, thrust out from Europe, Grove

i s resentful, indignant, beside himself w i t h vexation, lone1 iness and

confusion: he entered an "utter chaos" when he disembarked, and he never

resol ved i t s terms. B u t as a travel 1 er, Grove comes into his own. His 4

a r t then emerges free of the unfinished business of his European past.

He rides away from his frustration and obscurity, eyeing an infinitely

receedi ng destination.

- Notes

Chapter 9

Duncan was born i n Brantford, Ontario, i n 1862. In 1891 she

married Everard Cotes, and spent much of her: l i f e i n British India. A

number of her novels are se t there.

The novel i n James's canon which most importunately begs comparison

i s The Portrat t of a Lady (1882). Like Isabel Archer, Mary Trent is

-.A marriageable, and her tourism i s an aspect of her coubtship and mating.

She re jects one English suitor , only to accept the su i t of Lord Doleford,

a peer whbse prestige and personality are comparable to those of l s d e l t s

rejected English sui tor , Lord Warburton. The engagement of Mary Trent

t o Doleford makes a happy ending for Cousin Cinderella as Isabel 's t o

Warburton could not fo r The Portrai t of a Lady. An explanation for

the discrepancy may l i e i n Doleford's rather reluctant and qualified

, performance of his ar is tocra t ic role. He !s a New Man as warburton is not,

and as such he i s a f i t t i n g mate for+ a woman from the New World.

Sara Jeannette Duncan, Cousin. Cinderella: A Canadian Girl i n London

(New York: Grosset and Dunlap, lgO8), p. 76.

Stephen Leacock, My Discovery of England (London: Bodley Head, 1922). -

pp. 19-20.

Frun a1 1 these mock-caparisons , however, one substantial aspect of

the text emerges -- one which distinguishes i t from Duncan's analysis of

4 60

# differences and simi lar i ties. Whereas Duncan finds the distinctions

between Canadians and Americans sharply revealed by trans-Atlantic

travel, Leacock's comparison-maki ng sets Canadf an and U.S. travel1 ers

as interchangeable i n opposition to the English.

Stephen Leacock, My Discovery of the West (Toronto: Thomas A1 len,

1937), pp. 4-5. Subsequent references are to this edition and will

appear i n the text.

Pursuing a train of inconsistencies i n Grove's various accounts of

himself, Douglas Spettigue pub1 i s hed Frewick P h i 1 i p Grove in 1969, a"

"Frederick Philip Grove: A Report from Europen (Queen's Quarterly 78)

i n 1971, "The Grove Enigma Resolved" (Queen's Quarterly 79) i n 1972,

and FPG: The European Years i n 1973. References to Spettigue's findings I

are to those reported i n this las t publfcation.

Frederick Phil i p ~rovf?, In Search of Myself (Toronto: McClel land

and Stewart, 1974), p. 155. Subsequent references are to this edition

and w i 11 appear t n the* text.

In FPG: The European Years. Spettigue makes a shrewd obser ation - = I

on this process: he suggests that Desmond Pacey's consul tation of the

manuscript of In Search of &self and his publfcation of pseudo-Information

from i t i n Frederick P h i l i p Grove (1945) added to the documentary weight

of In Search of Wself when i t appeared the following year. 'L

lo Frederick P h i l i p Grove, A Search for America (Toronto: McClelland . ,

and Stewart, 19711, p. 21. Subsequent reference; are to this edition and

w i t ? appear f n the text.-

l1 A1 though the Oedipal configurations of In Search of Nself are

at least 'a sketchy out1 ine. Grove's f nfantile attachment to a splendldly

powerful mother, who favours hfm above a l l other offsprfng, i s threatened.

only by the ho$tile 'attitude of a malevolent father (who, a t one po in t ,

suspends his terrified tno-year o l d son from a gymnastic apparatus and

then walks away, leaving hls screamf ng offsprf ng to hang there -he1 plessly).

The estrangement of the mother from the father makes the son his mather's

corisort, w h i 1 e? the father's care1 ess management of the estate obl f terates

the son's birthright of privf'lege and wealth. In effect, the father i s

blamed for the dgclass; cl~umstances which lead to the son's, migration, ,

his life-long loss of caste and social station, and his failure to f i n d

an audience for hls ar t .

l2 Grove's unfitness for ordinary economic roles i n Canada i s dmcn-

strated by the fact that he was unable t o secure even a posltion as a

1 ighthouse-kgeper or lock-warden - (see In Search of Myself, p. 4 2 7 ) .

Richardson's schemes for preferment were stmi larly frustrated.

l3 See, for example, even Carlston Stanley's review artfcle on Pacey's

book, " ~ r e d e r i c k ~ ~ h i l i ~ trove" (Dalhuusle Revlew, 26 L19461, pp. 434-41) i n

which he retails the must 1mi nous details of Grove's inventions. Twenty-

five years later an ar t icle on "Grove and Existentialism" (Canadian Llter-

ature, 43 b9701, pp. 67-76) by Frank Birbalsingh dutifully opens w i t h the - smle old stuff. Grove's fmposture, however, must have i t s greatest success

D

I n H. 0. tlol t fday's "F&e~+ck Pht l i p Gmve: An Impression" (Canadfan pp pp -- - -- - - - - - - -- -

Literature, 3 n96q, p p . i f -22) . The author, who ltved for a time M t h

the Groves a t Simcoe, presents e y e 4 tness corroboration of Grove's fantasies,

flnding him "a patricfan by nature as well as by bfrth," one who "as an

- affluent youth ... had mved w i t h ease i n the great c i t ies of Europe," and

i

S O on.

l4 Frederick P h i 1 i p Grove, Over Prairie Trails (Toronto: McClel land

and Stewart, 1970), p. xf i i - . V Subsequent references are t o this edition

and will appear in the t e x t .

l5 Frederick Philip Grove, The T u r n o f the Year (Toronto: Mamillan,

1929), p. 21. Subsequent references are t o this edition and will appear

i n the text.

l6 See > ~ p e t t l ~ u e , FPG: The European Years, pp. 161-68.

i,

SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY '

C a r e t t i , Joseph. A Journey from London t o Genoa. London, 1770; r p t . New York: Praeger , 1970.

Bartram Will iam. Travels throuah North and South Carol ina . Georaia. East and West F l o r i d a , &c. i n john and Nilliarn Bartram's h e r i c ; , ed. Helen Gere Cruickshank. Herr York: Sevin-Adair, 1957.

Beckford, Will iam. Dreams, Waking Thoughts and I n c i d e n t s , ed. Robert 3 . Gemmet. Rutherford , %. J . : Fair1 eigh Dickinson Univ. P r e s s , 1971 .

Boswell , James. Grand Tour : Germany and Swi tzer land, ed . Frederick A. P o t t l e . New York: McGraw-Hill , 1953.

. Journal o f a . Tour t o t h e Hebrides. Oxford : Clarendon, 1964.

Broo key Frances. The H i s t o r y of Emily Mntague. Toronto : PcCl el land and S tewar t , 1961 .

Eurrage, Henry S . , ed. Early English and French Voyages, Chief ly from Haklwyt, 1534-1608. 1906; rpt. New York: Barnes and Noble, 1959.

Byrd, William. The Prose Works of William Byrd o f Westover, ed. Louis B . Wright. Cambridge: Be1 knap, 1966. *

Carver, Jonathan. The Journal s of jonathan Carver and Re1 a t e d Documents, 1766-1 770, ed. John Parker . (Minnesota) : Minnesota H i s t o r i c a l Socie ty P r e s s , 1976. ->

. Travels throuqh t h e I n t e r i o r P a r t s of North America i n t h e Years 1766, 1767, and 1768. 3rd ed. (London) 1 /81; r p t . Minneapo'lis, Minnesota: Ross and Haines, 1956.

C l a e n s , Samuel . The Innocents Abroad o r t h e New P i lg r ims ' Progress. N e w Y~rk : S i g n e t , 1966.

, Li fe on t h e F i s s i s s i p p i . New York: Bantam, 1976.

. Hark Twain's L e t t e r s from Hawaii, ed. A. Grove Day. Honolulu: C f ~ f w , s f + h e i i + e s , L21.

-. Crevecoeur, S t . Jean de . L e t t e r s from an h e r i c a n Farmer. New York:

%.oubleday, n .d .

. Sketches c f Eighteenth Century h e r i c a , ed. Henri L . Bourdin, ?,aiph 7 , G a b r i e l , S f a n i e j T . 2 i l7 i ams . N e w Haven: Yale Univ. P r e s s , 1925.

Duncan, Sara Jeannet te . Cousin Cinderel l a : A Canadian Girl i n London. New York: Grosset and Dunlap;-1 908.

Dunlop, William. T i g e r e r Canada. or onto : McClel land and Stewart , 1967.

Gal t , John. Bog1 e Corbet. Toronto: McCl el land and S tewar t , 1977.

Grove, Frederick Ph i l i p . In Search of Myself. Toronto: McClelland and Stewart , 1974.

. Over P r a i r i e T r a i l s . Toronto: McClelland and Stewart , 1970.

. A Search f o r America. Toronto: McCl el 1 and and Stewart , 1971 .

. The Turn of t h e Year. Toronto: Macmillan, 1929.

Hakluyt, ~ i k h a r d , ed. Divers Voyages touching t h e Discovery of America and t h e Is lands Adjacent. [ ~ o n d o i ] : Hakluyt Socie ty , n.d.; r p t . New York: Franklin, n.d.

Hal ibur ton , Thomas Chandler. The Clockmaker: Or t h e Sayings and Doings o f I Samuel S l i ck of S l i c k v i l l e . 70 onto: IYlcClelland and Stewart , 1958.

\

>, . The Old Judge: Or Li fe i n a Colony. Toronto: Clarke, Irwin, '\. 1 968.

Harmon, Daniel. S ix teen Years in the Indian Country: The Journal of Daniel Williams Harmon 1800-1816, e d r ~ . Kaye Lamb. Toronto: Vacmillan, 1957.

Hearne, Samuel . A Journey from Prince of Ma1 e s ' s Fort i n Hudson's Bay t o t h e Northern Ocean, 1769-1//0 - - 1 / / 2 , - ed. Richard Glover, Toronto : Macmillan, 1958.

Henry, Alexander. Travels and Adventures i n Canada and t h e Indian Te r r i t o r i e s between t h e Years 1760 and 1776. New York, 1809; r p t . Ann Arbor: Univ. Microfilms, 1966.

Howel 1 s , Will iam Dean. A Chance Acquaintance. Boston: Houghton # i f f 1 i n , 1873.

I t a l i a n Journeys .> London: -,

---. Heinemann, f 901.

. Their Ueddi ng Journey, Cambridge: Riverside, 18%.

. Venetian L i fe , London: Constable, i967.

:rvi ng , Washington. k t e s !$hi1 e a r ing Sketch Book kc . 1877, ed. Stanley T. Uilliams. Hew Haven: Yale, 7 , ' -

. The S k e t c h Book of Geoffrey Crayon, Gent. New York: Dodd, Read, 1954.

rr

. A Tour on t h e P r a i r i e s , ed. John Francis McDermott. Norman: Univ. of,Oklahoma P r e s s , 1956.

i I . The Western Journals of Washington I r v i n g , ed. John Francis

McDermott. Norman: Univ. o f Oklahoma Press , 1944.

James, Henry. The Pmerican Scene. New York: Horizon P r e s s , 1967.

. The Art of Travel , ed. Morton Zabel . New York: Doubleday, 1 958.

Jameson, Anna Brownelf. Winter S tud ies and Summer Rambles- i n Canada. Toronto: McClelland and S tewar t , 1965.

Johnson, Samuel. A Journey t o t h e Western I s l ands of Scot land. New Haven: Yale, 1971.

Knight, Sara Kemble. The Journal of Madam Knight, ed. Malcolm Frieberg. Boston: Godine, 1972.

Leacock, Stephen. Yy Discovery o f England. London: Bod1 ey Head, 1922.

. fty Discovery of t h e West. Toronto: Thomas A1 l e n , 1937.

Handevi l le , S i r John. Mandevi l le ' s T rave l s , ed. Malcolm L e t t s . London: Ha kl uyt Soc ie ty , 1 953.

H e l v i l l e , Herman. tknoo: A Nar ra t ive o f Adventures i n t h e South Seas. New York: Dent, 1921. . . .

. Redburn: His F i r s t Voyaqe, ed. Harrison Hayford e t a1. Evanston: fiorthwestern-Hewberry , 1969.

. Ty-pee: A Peep a t Polyneasian L i fe , ed. Harrison Hayford e t a1 . Evanston: Northwestern-Newberry , 1968.

. White- J a c k e t : Or, t h e Horld i n a Man-of-Nar, ed. Harrison Fayford e t a1. Evanston: Northwestern-Newberry , 1970.

Ycodie, Susanna. L i fe i n t h e Clear ings . Toronto : riacrnil l a n , '1 976.

. Roughing I t i n t h e Bush. Toronto: McClelland and S t e w a r t , 1962.

l i cha rdson , John, Eight Years i n Canada. New York: Johnson R p t . , 1967.

. Tecumseh and Richardson: The Story o f a Tr ip t o Halpole I s l a n d , ed . A . H . 1 1 . Colquhoun. Toronto: 3 n t a r i o Book Company, 1424.

5.;-coo, El izabe th ~ o s t i u - a . M a r y , 4. Mary Quayle I n n i s . Toronto: Y a m i l l a n , 1965.

es Smol le t , Tobias. Travels through France and I t a l y . Fontwell , Sussex:

Centaur, 1969.

S t e r n e , Laurence. A sentimental Journey throuqh ~ r a n c e and I t a l y . Harrnondsworth: Penguin, 1967. -

Thoreau, Henry David. Cape Cod. Boston: Rivers ide , 1906.

. The Maine Moods, ed. Joseph J . Moldenhauer. Pr ince ton: Pr ince ton Univ. P r e s s , 1972.

. A Week on the Concord and Rerrimack Rivers . 1906; r p t . Boston: Houghton M i f f l i n , n.d.

. A Yankee in Canada. Montreal : Harvest House, 1961.

T r a i t 1 , Cathar ine Pa r r . The Backwoods o f Canada. Toronto: McCl e l l and and S tewar t , 1966. ,

Tro l lope , Frances. Domestic Manners o f t h e Americans, ed. Donald Smalley. N e w York: Knopf, 1949.

N r i g h t , Louis B . , ed. The El izabethans ' America: A Col lec t ion o f Early Reports by Engl ishmen on t h e New World. Cambridge: Harvard Univ. P r e s s , 1965.

L i s t o f Secondary ltlorks Cited

Anderson, Charles R . M e l v i l l e i n t h e South Seas . N e w York: Columbia , Univ. P r e s s , 1939.

. " M e l v i l l e ' s South Sea Romance." Eigo Se inen , 1125 ( l 9 6 9 ) , 478-82, 364-68.

Beazley, Raymond. The Dawn of Hodern Geography. - 1897; r p t . New York: P e t e r Smith, 1949.

Bennet t , Josephine !daters. The Rediscovery o f S i r John Fandevi l 1 e . 1954; r p t . New York: MLA, 1971.

~ i r b a l s i n c j h , Frank. "Grove and E x i s t e n t i a l i s m . " Canadian L i t e r a t u r e , 43 ( l97O) , 67-76,

Branch, Katson G . , ed. B e l v i l l e : The C r i t i c a l Her i t age . London: Routledge and Kegan Paul , 1974.

Bui t enhu i s , P e t e r . The Grasping Imag ina t ion : The American Wr i t i ngs o f Henry James. Toronto: Univ. o f Toronto P r e s s , 1970.

3u rde , Edgar J. "Mark Twain: The Wr i t e r a s P i l o t . " PMLA, 93 (1978) , 878-892.

Cunl i f f e , Marcus. "Cr6vecoeur R e v i s i t e d . " Journa l o f American S t u d i e s , 9 , N O . 2 ( l 9 7 5 ) , 129-44.

Cur ley , Thomas M. Samuel Johnson and t h e Age of T rave l . Athens: Univ. o f Georgia P r e s s , 1976,

F r a n t z , R . W . The Engl i sh T r a v e l l e r and t h e Kovement o f I d e a s , 1660-1732. 1334; r p t . New York: Octagon, 1968.

Gibson, Will iam H. The Art o f Mark Twain. New York: Oxford Univ. P r e s s , 1976.

'4211, Joan. " P e l v i l l e ' s Use o f I n t e r p o l a t i o n s . " The Un ive r s i t y Review, 33 [19Gi), 50-59,

f a l l , William F, "The Cnntiming ReLeiance nf Henry James' The American Scene . " C r i t i c i s m , 1 3 , Ho. 2 (1371), 151-65.

'- loll i day , H.3 , " F r e d e r i c k P h i l i p Grove: An Impress ion ." Canadian L i t e r a t u r e , 3 {I 9601, 17-22,

Kirk, Rudolf and Clara. William Dean Howells. N e w York: Grosset and Dunlop, 1962.

Newton, Arthur Percival . Travel and Travel 1 e r s i n t h e Tliddl e Ages. 1925; rpt. New York: Barnes and Noble, 1968.

Page, Evelyn. American Genesis: Pre-Colonial Writings in t h e North. Boston : Gambit, 1973.

Parker, Hershel. "Evidence f o r 'La t e I n se r t i ons ' in Me lv i l l e ' s Iiorks." Studies i n t h e Novel, 7 (1975), 407-24.

S i e b e r t , Donald T. "William Byrd's His tor ies o f t he Line: The Fashioning of a Hero." American L i t e r a t u r e , 47, No. 4 (1976), 535-51.

Smi t h y David. "Hi1 1 iam Byrd Surveys America ." Early American L i t e r a tu r e , 11 , No. 3 (1976), 296-310.

Spe t t i gue , Douglas. FPG: The European Years.

Stanley, Carleton. "Frederick P h i l i p Grove." Dalhousie Review, 26 (1 946), 434-41 .

Whitherington, Paul. "The Art of Melvil l e t s Typee." Arizona Quarterly, 26 ( l97O), 136-50.