Satirizing the Gothic in Jane Austen’s Northanger Abbey

In Northanger Abbey, Jane Austen is satirizing the Gothic genre. It is in response to Ann Radcliffe's The Romance of the Forest. The title of Austen's novel itself is very gothic, giving readers an image of a distant and vast abbey (as in Radcliffe's novel), but the story itself is not.

The beginning of Northanger Abbey sets us up for what is to be a satire of the Gothic genre. The novel begins with “No,” almost as a sort of negation. Catherine, as Austen indicates, was never thought to be a “heroine.” Austen is fighting a gender stereotype that is typical of Gothic novels, and is suggesting that maybe Catherine is simply not heroic.

Parents are often absent in gothic novels. For example, Adeline's mother in The Romance of the Forest is absent. In Northanger Abbey, however, both of Catherine’s parents are alive and well. Austen introduces Catherine’s mother, “a woman of useful plain sense….and, what is more remarkable, with a good constitution” (15). Thus, she is healthy and strong, so there is no inclination that she will die.

            The Morland family is described to be very plain “who seldom aimed at wit of any kind,” (64) and if this does not anger Gothic readers, the following description of Catherine might: “She had a thin awkward figure, a sallow skin without colour, dark lank hair, and strong features” (15). Gothic heroines are typically very beautiful, often as a result of their inner goodness. Catherine, however, is “awkward,” has sickly skin, and lifeless hair. She does not fit the image of the Gothic heroine, and Austen may be suggesting that this image is rather unrealistic. And if Catherine’s lack of physical superiority is not enough, Austen relates to us that Catherine is “occasionally stupid” (16). Catherine does not like to play music, and when it came to writing and accounts, “her proficiency in either was not remarkable” (16). Austen introduces a normal, everyday woman, defying the traditional convention of creating the superior Gothic heroine.

            Austen builds up suspense in Northanger Abbey, as is typical of Romantic and Gothic novels. However, she replaces the supernatural with realism. For example, where a manuscript should be, Austen gives us a laundry list instead! Austen is suggesting that the supernatural is not in nature and that novels should return to the domestic. Austen wrote the same novel six times, believing that domestic fiction will offer women new choices if they lack money or lineage.

Austen is critical of Catherine’s reading of Gothic novels. Isabella enters the room while Catherine is reading Mysteries of Udolpho, and Catherine remarks: “I should like to spend my whole life in reading it” (39). Catherine wants to be in the novel and Austen’s nightmare is that women become the fiction and are steered away from reality. Moreover, Catherine’s perspective is so colored by Gothic novels that she can’t even see English landscape: “ ‘I never look at it,’ said Catherine, as they walked along the side of the river, ‘without thinking of the south of France’ ” (102). Therefore, Austen satirizes the Gothic genre, implying that the domestic novel is more benefiting for women.

It has been very interesting to see how authors experimented with the novel in the 18th century. It seems that Jane Austen is insisting that novels stray away from the Romantic or Gothic genre and instead, focus on a more realistic and advantageous genre, the domestic. 

Article Responses: The Rise of the Novel

In “Gendered Cultural Criticism and the Rise of the Novel: The Case of Defoe,” Maximillian E. Novak is voicing his concern with literary scholars who want to remove Defoe from his place in “the rise of the novel.” He indicates that these scholars see no real literary value in Defoe’s Robinson Cruosoe. He continues to defend Robinson Crusoe as a novel that had a large impact throughout Western Europe, and urges critics to reconsider “revising Defoe’s place in the canon” (243). What was most interesting to me was Novak’s discussion of Ian Watt’s exclusion of female authors in his book, The Rise of the Novel. He agrees that Watt took a “male-oriented vision of the novel” (252), but understands this exclusion of female authors indicating, “Watt’s work is rooted in its time” (246). Novak urge critics to reshape the canon by including significant female authors, but not at the expense of prominent male authors, like Defoe. He claims that it is not “sensible” to insist “entirely on the feminine nature of the form” and dismiss “male writers solely on the basis of gender” (252). After our discussions of the canon this semester, and having read Janet Todd’s The Sign of Angellica, I realized how far removed women are from current literary study focusing on the rise of the novel. I thought it necessary to reshape our canon by including prominent female authors; prior to reading Novak’s article, however, I hadn’t thought about how we will approach this. I think he poses a fair concern and is right in urging critics not to exclude male authors in the process of including female authors. Instead of devaluing certain works, it would be best that critics begin to value marginalized female authors and their works.

In “A Question of Beginnings,” Robert B. Alter also discusses Ian Watt’s The Rise of the Novel in terms of its biases. Nonetheless, he indicates the importance of Watt’s work and stresses its influence on eighteenth-century literary scholarship.  Alter makes an interesting observation: “The choice, then, of a particular beginning for the novel will always be in some degree arbitrary, inevitable dictated by the critic’s perception of what the eventual characteristic traits of the genre turn out to be” (215). I agree with this notion; it seems impossible to me for critics to distance themselves from their own biases that tend to make claims on which characteristics best represent the genre itself. According to Alter, Watt’s shortfall is in failing to cover “all the teeming variety and unpredictability of the genre” by deeming “realism” as the main criterion for the novel (216). Nonetheless, Alter ends his article by claiming that The Rise of the Novel is unparalleled “in its identification of the importance for the novel of individual experience” (225).  Alter warns critics against rejecting Watt’s work because of its shortfalls, and instead urges critics to consider what it does offer in terms of scholarship.

On a different note, Deidre Lynch’s “Personal Effects and Sentimental Fictions” was a challenging article that discusses the emotional attachments people have to things in sentimental novels and how keepsakes become “props” intended to invoke feelings and tears in readers. From what I have learned about eighteenth- century morality, luxury and the collection of “things” was associated with the upper class and hence, with vice.  In Lynch’s article, she recognizes “people’s new willingness to….value the luxury of good as a vehicle for the finer feelings” (346). Lynch discusses how keepsakes actually help move the narrative forward, which was a new outlook for me.

I have to say I gained novel insights this week. I am curious about how we can reform the canon to make it more democratic (keeping in mind that we don’t want to reverse the marginalization process by excluding prominent male authors). I am trying to be more open about Ian Watt’s The Rise of the Novel, although his exclusion of female authors troubles me. I am also interested in the association of luxury with finer feelings rather than luxury with vice. I hope we can touch upon some of these topics in class!