When reviewing a book from a previous age, like this one, I generally try to judge it according to the standards of the time in which it appeared. So that ideally I'd be looking at "Clarissa" and putting myself in the mindset of a person accustomed to the idea presented here; that it's expected to require an adult child to marry the person I chose for them, whether they liked that person or not. Sorry, folks – this time I failed. I can't stand these people.
Part of the problem, I think, is that Clarissa Harlowe herself is close to perfect. She's beautiful, intelligent, humble, charitable, creative – everything. This leaves her opposition, both in and out of her family, with nothing to be but demonic, or as near as makes no difference. Her father is riddled with gout and tells her in no uncertain terms that “I mean to be obeyed.” Her mother decided long ago that she would not oppose her husband in anything, in an attempt to keep peace in the house; all that really does, of course, is leave him with no curb on his demands. Clarissa's older brother is nothing but bad temper, and her older sister is defined mostly by her envy of Clarissa's good qualities and reputation.
Mr. Solmes, the man that the family wants Clarissa to marry, has few if any good qualities other than attentiveness to his business and desire for Clarissa herself, to such an extent that he seems willing, even eager, to take his entire estate away from his family members in a vain effort to make Clarissa think well of him. As for Mr. Lovelace, the man that Clarissa's family wants to keep her away from at all costs, he is handsome, rich, charming, and utterly loathsome. He hates Clarissa's family about as much as they hate him – her sister because he was courting her until he laid eyes on Clarissa, and her brother because he came close to fighting a duel with Lovelace for no very discernible reason.
Clarissa has one dear friend named Anna Howe, who is beautiful and virtuous but hot-headed. Other than that, for much of its tremendous 1500-page (!) length this is a conflict between pure virtue and pure evil, which makes for a pretty clear moral lesson (Samuel Richardson's professed purpose for his fictions), but not a particularly good story.
As I said, the Harlowes insist upon Clarissa marrying Solmes, largely because he's from a family with connections to the nobility and they are eager for the social advancement. When she declines, they assume she's about to insist on marrying Lovelace, and all but imprison her in the house until she gives in. Lovelace not only takes advantage of this, he tricks her into running off with him in order to avoid her family's evident intention to stick her in front of a pastor with Solmes, whether she likes it or not.
Lovelace is what is politely referred to as a “rake”. He has spent his young manhood seducing young women, and thus “ruining” them. He finds Clarissa irresistible, and is completely confused by her refusal to succumb, despite separating her from her family and friends and putting her in a house that turns out to be a brothel. This is not his last lie, or his first.
Eventually, not only for his pleasure but also to prove that no woman is truly virtuous, he manages to drug and rape her, figuring that she will then fall for him like every other woman has done in similar circumstances. Doesn't work. So he finally realizes that she is indeed virtuous, falls in love with her, and uses this “love” to try to influence her to marry him. That doesn't work either, but his response to her refusal is a continuous insistence that “she WILL be mine.” Folks, I've read a lot of romantic stories in my day, featuring some pretty nasty villains, but Lovelace may be the most unconscionable of them all.
Not all that complicated of a tale, but 1500 pages? I believe this is close to the longest single-volume novel published in English. There are those who consider it a masterpiece, and I doubt I'm qualified to disagree. However, what with the unchanging character of the people, the repetition of the plot points, and the tremendous length (I'm a fast reader, but it took me nearly nine months to finish), I can confidently assert that it's not very enjoyable.
As I said, I can't say I read this thing as it was intended to be read. Part of the reason it took me so long may be that it's an epistolary novel, composed of letters sent from one character to another over the course of about a year – I found myself reading one letter at a time, mostly, and as long as some of them are, they are still far shorter than regular-length chapters would be. In any case, this is possibly the first book I disliked because I didn't like the characters. Take that as you will. It's technically good – well-constructed, emotionally involving in spots, pretty realistic. Nevertheless, I'm so glad I don't live with this bunch, and I'm doubly glad I don't have to read this any more.
Benshlomo says, as he has said before; Honestly, the things I do for you people...
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