I
have done a little more sleuthing, and am pleased to report that, upon closer examination,
there is even more significant textual evidence hiding in plain sight, which
still further bolsters my claims that Cassandra and Henry Austen, in writing
about recently deceased sister Jane, were both deliberately alluding to Othello and to other related stories of
murder of a close relative in a variety of ways, and that each of them hid
behind a mask of Christian piety as they did so.
If
you haven’t read my prior posts, here they are..
…they
set the stage for what I add, below:
First,
I realized what had been nipping at the edge of my awareness the past several
days, i.e., that Henry Austen has had a clever good time inserting three metonyms in that single sentence! “The
hand” is a metonym for Jane Austen, “the pen” for the act of writing novels,
and “the grave” for death. And, similarly, Cassandra has used two metonyms in
her dramatic sentence, “the hand” as metonym, in benign interpretation, for
God, or, in dark interpretation, for the human murderer of Jane Austen, and
“the blow” for the act of murder, not necessarily by literally striking a blow.
Just
a rhetorical coincidence? Read on….
Mackenzie,
in that sentence from Julia de Roubigne that
Henry Austen alluded to, also used
three metonyms: “the hand” for the mother writing the letter, “the heart” for the
mother’s feelings, and “the grave” for death.
Again,
coincidence? Read on further, recognizing in particular how remarkable it is that
both Cassandra and Henry, apparently independently and six months apart, both
use the metonym of “the hand” in describing the recently deceased Jane Austen.
Next,
when we look at CEA’s loaded sentence, it becomes clear that CEA did not merely
allude to the seventh line in the following passage in Othello…
Soft you; a word or two before you
go.
I have done the state some service, and they know't.
No more of that. I pray you, IN YOUR LETTERS,
When you shall these unlucky deeds relate,
Speak of me as I am; nothing extenuate,
Nor set down aught in malice: then must you speak
Of ONE THAT LOVED NOT WISELY BUT TOO WELL;
Of one not easily jealous, but being wrought
Perplex'd in the extreme; of one whose HAND,
Like the base Indian, THREW A PEARL AWAY
RICHER THAN ALL HIS TRIBE….
I have done the state some service, and they know't.
No more of that. I pray you, IN YOUR LETTERS,
When you shall these unlucky deeds relate,
Speak of me as I am; nothing extenuate,
Nor set down aught in malice: then must you speak
Of ONE THAT LOVED NOT WISELY BUT TOO WELL;
Of one not easily jealous, but being wrought
Perplex'd in the extreme; of one whose HAND,
Like the base Indian, THREW A PEARL AWAY
RICHER THAN ALL HIS TRIBE….
….Stabs himself
…we see
that she also alluded strikingly to the metonym of “hand” deployed in
the symbol set forth in lines 9 to 11 lines as well!
And, what’s
more, CEA must have been aware that Jane Austen had herself deployed that very
same metonym on “hand” as was used in
those same lines 9-11 in Othello in….(could it be more perfect?) Northanger
Abbey, Chapter 23! Or to be more exact, it was JA who, 200 years after
publication of Othello, clearly alluded to that very same speech by Othello,
as follows:
“The
new building was not only new, but declared itself to be so; intended only for
offices, and enclosed behind by stable-yards, no uniformity of architecture had
been thought necessary. Catherine could have raved at THE HAND which had SWEPT
AWAY what must have been BEYOND THE VALUE OF ALL THE REST, for the purposes of
mere domestic economy…”
The thematic
parallel leaps out at you in this narration describing Catherine’s astonished scorn
upon observing General Tilney’s utter disregard for Gothic architectural aesthetics.
In both Othello and in NA, the metonym of “the hand” is
followed by a verb which refers to that hand discarding something of value
beyond all other possessions. This close tracking is, again, outside the realm
of coincidence.
And
of course NA was published in the
same volume as Henry’s Biographical
Notice, and only months after CEA wrote her letter to Fanny—and, of further course, the central mystery of Northanger Abbey, from the point of view
of the heroine, Catherine Morland, is….whether General Tilney has emulated
Othello and murdered his wife! Look at this famous passage in Chapter 25, which
is distinctly resonant of the poisoning Othello sees “the justice” of…..
“But
in the central part of England there was surely some security for the existence
even of A WIFE not beloved, in the laws of the land, and the manners of the
age. MURDER was not tolerated, servants were not SLAVES, and neither POISON nor
sleeping potions to be procured, like rhubarb, from every druggist. Among the
Alps and Pyrenees, perhaps, there were no mixed characters. There, such as were
not as SPOTLESS as an ANGEL might have the dispositions of a FIENDS.”
…and
now consider first that Venice is an exotic Continental location not that far
from the Alps, and then consider the multiple significant echoes that the above
passage in NA registers vis a vis the
following speeches in Othello:
First,
this one by Othello right after he murders Desdemona:
OTHELLO:
“Now, how dost thou look now? O ill-starr'd wench!
Pale as thy smock! when we shall meet at compt,
This look of thine will hurl my soul from HEAVEN,
And FIENDS will snatch at it. Cold, cold, my girl!
Even like thy chastity. O cursed SLAVE!”
Pale as thy smock! when we shall meet at compt,
This look of thine will hurl my soul from HEAVEN,
And FIENDS will snatch at it. Cold, cold, my girl!
Even like thy chastity. O cursed SLAVE!”
And then,
how about these two passages about the spotted handkerchief which spells
Desdemona’s doom:
IAGO:
Nay,
but be wise: yet we see nothing done;
She may be honest yet. Tell me but this,
Have you not sometimes seen a handkerchief
SPOTTED with strawberries in your wife's hand?
She may be honest yet. Tell me but this,
Have you not sometimes seen a handkerchief
SPOTTED with strawberries in your wife's hand?
…
'Tis he:--O brave Iago, honest
and just,
That hast such noble sense of thy friend's wrong!
Thou teachest me. Minion, your dear lies dead,
And your unblest fate hies: strumpet, I come.
Forth of my heart those charms, thine eyes, are blotted;
Thy bed, lust-stain'd, shall with lust's blood be SPOTTED.
That hast such noble sense of thy friend's wrong!
Thou teachest me. Minion, your dear lies dead,
And your unblest fate hies: strumpet, I come.
Forth of my heart those charms, thine eyes, are blotted;
Thy bed, lust-stain'd, shall with lust's blood be SPOTTED.
OTHELLO
She's,
like a liar, gone to burning hell:
'Twas I that kill'd her.
'Twas I that kill'd her.
And
speaking of the ill-fated spotted handkerchief in Othello, I’ve got two more goodies for you that relate to it.
First, I
found yet another veiled allusion by Cassandra in that passage written
to Fanny! Look at the following conversation which takes place between Iago and
Othello after Iago succeeds with his handkerchief ploy, in convincing Othello
of Desdemona’s infidelity, and not long before Othello actually murders
Desdemona:
OTHELLO
Get me some poison, Iago;
this night: I'll not expostulate with her, lest her body
and beauty
unprovide my mind again: this night, Iago.
unprovide my mind again: this night, Iago.
“The justice of it [meaning,
poisoning Desdemona] pleases” Othello.
Isn’t this creepily similar to
Cassandra’s acknowledging “the justice of the blow”???
So, in a short and thematically
congruent interval late in Shakespeare’s play, all associated with the murder
of Desdemona by Othello, we have a cluster of words which are strongly echoed
by Cassandra in a single paragraph which
has as its subject the premature death of Jane Austen!
I cannot emphasize the tiny
probability that this could have occurred randomly, it means that Cassandra
clearly meant to invoke this specific passage in Othello, and you just have to ask, “WHY?”
And by
the way, Othello defends the justice of murdering Desdemona as having justice,
and, I just noticed now, he actually wants to poison Desdemona at first,
bringing a further correspondence to Julia de Roubigne and to Hamlet,
in the form of murder. So Henry Austen is similarly seen to be playing in the
same metaphorical sandbox as sister Cassandra, and it looks as if they have
worked in coordination in this regard.
But I
have one final “pearl” for you which I’ve been very careful not to “throw away”,
which somehow ties all of the above up in an amazing bow, which I hinted at in
my Subject Line!
The
one word which unifies Cassandra’s and Henry’s veiled allusions is their
metonymic usage of “the hand”, and
perhaps you’ve already realized that the word “hand” is a key part of the word “handkerchief”! And wouldn’t you know, it turns out that Shakespeare
was totally on this, and JA knew it, i.e., that it is Desdemona’s hand, as well as her handkerchief, which
constitute Ground Zero for Othello’s jealous rage.
It would
take way too long to summarize here, but for those who wish to read a wonderful
sussing out of the thematic significance of the hand and handkerchief imagery
which permeates Othello, you will find it in “Demonic Ventriloquism and
Venetian Skepticism in Othello” by Blair Morris, SEL Studies in English
Literature 1500-1900, Vol. 53, #2, Spr. 2013. Suffice to say that Morris makes
an extraordinarily persuasive case for the significance of “the hand” in Othello (even though, amazingly, he does not take
note, as others have, previously, that “demon” is in the middle of “Desdemona”).
And given
that extraordinary emphasis on “hand” in Othello, it tells us that not
only did Jane Austen, literary scholar that she was, recognize that emphasis,
she emulated it, and then her sister and brother emulated it again after she
died, for whatever secret purpose they had.
In
closing, for what it’s
worth, I was also curious to see if any other Austen commentator was ever as
disturbed as I am by what CEA wrote in her letter, and while I didn’t find any
such thing, I did note that one, EM Forster, was at least willing to express sarcastic
disapproval of Cassandra in a piece that ran in the 1932 Times Literary
Supplement:
“ ‘I
have lost such a Sister, such a friend as never can have been surpassed — she
was the sun of my life, the gilder of every pleasure, the soother of every
sorrow, I had not a thought concealed from her, and it is as if I had lost a
part of myself.’ We like these words of
Cassandra's, and we had better read the words that follow, WHICH WE MAY NOT
LIKE SO WELL: — ‘I loved her only
too well, not better than she deserved, but I am conscious that my affection
for her made me sometimes unjust to & negligent of others, & I can
acknowledge, more than as a general principle, the justice of the hand that
struck the blow.’ In that union of
TENDERNESS AND SANCTIMONIOUSNESS, let us leave her for a moment to rest….”
If
only that were the worst of what
Cassandra wrote, but, for all the reasons I wrote above, and in my previous two
posts, I believe what Cassandra did was the furthest thing from mere
sanctimoniousness.
Cheers,
ARNIE
@JaneAustenCode
on Twitter
No comments:
Post a Comment