Contents:
Group 1: Ideas and Contrasts
Group 2: Ellena a radical figure?
Group 3: Didacticism in The Italian
Group 4: Aspects of the Sublime in the Creation of Terror
Pride (humility), delicacy (indelicacy), good sense (poor judgement) seemed to warn (approve) her against a conduct so humiliating (uplifting) and vexatious (pleasant) in its consequences (intentions), and to exhort (discourage) her to preserve (destroy) her own dignity (unworthiness) by independence (dependence); but the esteem (contempt), the friendship (animosity), the tender affection (cold/harsh indifference), which she had cherished (rejected) for Vivaldi, made her pause (advance), and shrink (swell) with emotions (insensitivity) of little less than horror (delight), from the eternal renunciation (fleeting acceptance), which so dignified (humbled) a choice required.
Monthly Mirror 3 (March, 1797):
Ellena is an excellent composition of female delicacy and innocence, with a manly dignity and firmness.
The Anti-Jacobin Review and Magazine 7 (September, 1800):
The romance of "the Mysteries of Udolpho" hath been long received, as a first-rate production: and its merits have not been too highly appreciated. It was the reputation of this work, which, at length, induced us to honour Mrs. Radcliffe's "Italian," with our attentive perusal:-- so may we be allowed to express ourselves. For we, grave Reviewers, very seldom look into novels or romances for any other purpose, than to discover and point out their moral tendency, and offer to the sex our serious admonitions; which, we fear, are, for the most part, unavailing.
Statement -- Comparing Ellena to Olivia, it is apparent that the former does not possess enough "radical" qualities to deem her as such.
A. Schooling of Allurements -- Radcliffe informs the audience that, following in the tradition of the period, Ellena has received the necessary education befitting a young woman of her position. She is well versed in the arts of singing, handiwork and appreciation of the natural landscape. Her singing was in fact the initial allurement for Vivaldi, thereby instigating his persistent attempts to woo her. Ellena's interest in the landscape is demonstrated numerous times, most clearly during her confinement at San Stefano, e.g., p. 90.
In comparison, while it is likely that Olivia, being a woman of a refined position, was schooled in the arts of allurement, the audience does not perceive these traits dominating in her character during the plot of the story. Having escaped from Schedoni years previously, she has left behind those "womanly" accomplishments in order to preserve her and her daughter's safety.
B. Sensibility -- Referring back to Caleb Williams and the character of Emily, she perhaps personifies the characteristics of sensibility most clearly. And while Ellena does not demonstrate as much emotion, she is still ruled by her feelings of pride. This is seen in her indecision/refusal to marry Vivaldi because she is perceived as being unworthy of his position. "And shall the weakness of a girl . . . subdue the resolution of a man. Shall the view of her transient sufferings unnerve my firm heart, and compel me to renounce the lofty plans . . ." (223). Further, while in the convent, she defies the Abbess in order to have her own way and neither marry nor take the veil. Ellena also suffers from the "damsel in distress" syndrome. Unlike Olivia, who was willing to take action to ensure her survival and later that of Ellena's (97), the girl is content to let her pride be her weapon and suffer her ills passively. In Vivaldi's presence, she is further content to let him direct their plans of escape from San Stefano.
Summary -- While Ellena does possess some meritable qualities that prevent her from developing into a completely stereotypical gothic female, in comparison to the character of Olivia, she is far from being a radical departure from the norm. Olivia, in turn, does represent the emergence of the new woman who is entirely capable of directing her life: "Olivia, from whom she had received so many attentions, whose countenance and manners announced so fair a mind . . ." (97).
It may be said to inspire trust in providence (not explicitly religious, i.e., God, but a notion of Fate, or the spiritual manifesting in conscience), i.e., virtue and vice begetting their respective rewards and punishments.
Examples:
Conclusion -- The Old Testament notion of theodicy (Leibniz) is played through the novel.
Further musings. How do class relations play out in the novel? Our initial reaction was that class relations are reinforced (i.e. Paulo, when offered money and independence prefers to remain a prized servant; Ellena's class "outs").
The 18th century notion of the sublime describes a landscape which heightens spiritual awareness of the artistic form which captures the elevating quality. It is associated with awe inspiring aspects of nature in its most powerful forms: volcanoes, earthquakes, storms, mountains, caves, oceans, reminders of God's power and wrath. Destructive forms, too, display sublimity -- wars, famines, plagues, mysterious phenomena.
Edmund Burke, from A Philosophical Enquiry into the Origins of our Ideas of the Sublime and Beautiful (1757):
Whatever is fitted in any sort to excite the ideas of pain, and danger, that is to say, whateveris in any sort terrible, or is conversant about terrible objects, or operates in a manner analogous to terror, is a source of the sublime; that is, it is productive of the strongest emotions which the mind is capable of feeling" (I, 7)
Sublime characteristics include obscurity, power, duration, vastness, infinity, difficulty and magnificence.
In Ann Radcliffe's 7he Italian, ghostly events occur at night, with shapes, shadows and unseen figures passing eerily on their way to create mayhem and disorder for the hero. The heroine is a delicate creature, but strong in her convictions, who is involved in sublime experiences. Radcliffe creates suspense by implying that supernatural forces are at work and then dismissing the danger through rational explanation.
Edmund Burke, "On Obscurity":
"When we know the full extent of any danger, when we can accustom our eyes to it, a great deal of the apprehension vanishes." (Wu, 3-4)
Obscurity is necessary to make anything seem terrible; the unknown is frightening. Schedoni is more terrible when he acts behind the scenes, manipulating the Marchesa, and Vivaldi does not know exactly who is the cause of his troubles. Early in the novel, while Vivaldi is being tormented, so is the reader. Radcliffe builds suspense with her use of the obscure.
Vivaldi's encounters with the mysterious monk:
The monk delivers a warning: "Beware how you visit Altieri!" --associated with danger (pp. 12-13)
He does it again: "Go not to the villa Altieri, lest you meet the fate you ought to dread." (p. 15)
Vivaldi takes the bait: "We shall see whether this demon in the garb of a monk, will haunt me again at the accustomed place." (p. 18) His friend Bonartno is wary: "Do you really believe that any effort to detain him would be more effectual? He glided past me with a strange facility, it was surely more than human!" (p. 19) The figure lures them along; his behaviour is what one would expect from a spectre, "gliding" and "disappearing into the gloom," moving with "no footstep" heard, only "a rustling, as of garments." (p. 20)
The suspense is heightened as Vivaldi gains more information, but is still mostly unknowing:
"Vivaldi, as he eyed him [Schedoni] with a penetrating glance, now recoiled with involuntary emotion; and it seemed as if a shuddering presentiment of what this monk was preparing for him, had crossed his mind." (p. 35) At this point in the novel, the reader has more information than Vivaldi, so the tension which exists in Vivaldi is less in the reader.
Vivaldi's suspicions give him some relief, and he becomes determined to reveal the monk: "it now occurred to him, and for the first time, that this monk, this mysterious stranger, was no other than Schedoni..." (p. 46) The monk is a mortal enemy, and Vivaldi has no trouble confronting him (pp. 49-51). "The secret adviser, who steals in to the bosom of a family only to poison its repose, the informer -- the base asperser of innocence, stands revealed in one person before me." (p. 51) Schedoni is no longer a supernatural entity, to be feared because he is ethereal and ghostly; Vivaldi knows Schedoni is a man of flesh and blood and does not fear him (or does he?)
There is still some uncertainty surrounding the identity of the mysterious monk. When Vivaldi and Paulo go to the ruins, they see 'something' in the passageway:
"Vivaldi looked onward, and perceived, indistinctly, something as of human form, but motionless and silent. It stood at the dusky extremity of the avenue . . . Its garments, if garments they were, were dark; but its whole figure was so faintly traced to the eye, that it was impossible to ascertain whether this was the monk." (p. 74) The dark figure lures them on, and apparently vanishes, to Vivaldi's astonishment. "...'tis certain, this form can be nothing human!" (p. 75). The being, is an enigma: "...the being who warns me, crosses my path perpetually, yet, with the cunning of a demon, as constantly eludes my grasp, and baffles my pursuit! It is incomprehensible, by what means he glides thus away from my eye, and fades, as if into air, at my approach! He is repeatedly in my presence, yet is never to be found!" (pp. 75-76) Vivaldi and Paulo are locked in the cell by this being; the situation seems hopeless. Radcliffe leaves them there while she continues her narrative with Ellena's troubles. (p. 82) They discover, on our return to them, that the cell door is unlocked. (p. 98)
"Everyone will be sensible of this who considers how greatly night adds to our dread in all cases of danger."
The darkness of night -- not seeing and thus not knowing -- increases dread. Vivaldi's early encounters with the mysterious monk occur at night. But that is typically when a person would be most likely to see a spectre.
"it is necessary that I should go at a particular hour, the hour when the monk has usually appeared." (p. 22)
All the ghostly encounters with the monk figure occur at night. This has become a traditional suspense form -- we have all seen horror movies and read books where the protagonist ventures into a tunnel/cellar/attic/dark place at night, while the audience screams "Don't go there!"
Burke applies his precepts of darkness to government and religion, intimating that those institutions, "founded on the passions of men, principally upon the passion of fear," prefer to keep their constituents "in the dark". He makes the points that heathen temples were dark and druids' ceremonies were performed in the darkest woods, in the shade of the oldest and most spreading oaks.
Radcliffe uses evil monks and nasty nuns in her narrative to scare the hell out of everyone. The Abbess of the monastery of San Stefano is a Chaucerian figure: "a stately lady, apparently occupied with opinions of her own importance, and prepared to receive her guest with rigour and supercilious haughtiness. This Abbess, who was herself a woman of some distinction, believed that of all possible crimes, next to that of sacrilege, offences against persons of rank were least pardonable." (p. 67) Like the Prioress of the "Canterbury Tales," the Abbess is not a godly person, concerned with serving her faith. The presence of the Abbess and the portrayal of the Inquisition in the novel is a criticism of the Roman Catholic faith.
Gothic Architecture, with its towers soaring heavenward and its dark foreboding facades, lends itself to depictions of the sublime in their wild and irregular aspects. Ruins, abbeys and monasteries convey a sense of weighty orthodox Christianity, which, according to Burke, reflects the elements of obscurity.
The place at the beach where Ellena is held captive is, like the convents, of typically Gothic construction; it is also frightening in its wildness and air of dissipation:
The walls, of unhewn marble, were high, and strengthened by bastions; and the edifice had turretted comers, which, with the porch in front, and the sloping roof, were falling fast into numerous symptoms of decay. The whole building, with it's [sic] dark windows and soundless avenues, had an air strikingly forlorn and solitary. A high wall surrounded the small court in which it stood, and probably had once served as a defence to the dwelling; but the gates, which should have closed against intruders, could no longer perform their office; one of the folds had dropped from it's [sic] fastenings, and lay on the ground almost concealed in a deep bed of weeds, and the other creaked on its hinges to every blast, at each swing seeming ready to follow the fate of it's [sic] companion. (p. 210)