Self-Signing in Frances Burney's Evelina

I’m really interested in female authenticity in Frances Burneys Evelina. I want to focus particularly on how Evelina “signs” herself in the epistolary novel.

First, it’s interesting to note that Burney decides to title the novel, Evelina. This awards agency and importance to a female character. We’ve only seen a similar maneuver once this semester with Aphra Behn’s Oroonoko. Oroonoko, however, is not the agent of his own story; Behn is his agent, writing his history for him. In Burney’s novel, however, Evelina’s authorial voice emerges in a society that often ensnares women within its social conventions. This is not to imply that Evelina wholly liberates herself from social convention, but towards the end, as is indicated by the way in which she signs her name, she has assumed some sort of validity of self. I will end this blog post by discussing this maneuver, and the complexity of it.

But I’d like to direct our attention to the opening of the novel. We do not actually meet Evelina at this point. Instead, we read letters written by people who assume to know what is best for Evelina. Mr. Villars insists that Evelina’s parting from him creates “apprehensions and terrors which almost overpower” him (Burney 12). Lady Howard, however, claims that “sequestering” children from the world creates a false image of the world as a paradise to them; they only learn its reality by experiencing it (13). Evelina’s voice is severed from this discussion because she is not in the authority to decide for herself, but remains within paternal control.

Evelina’s first letter (letter VIII) illustrates how she is beginning to explore this idea of self-definition, yet is still confined to authority, specifically male authority. She ends her letter saying, “Your Evelina. I cannot to you sign Anville and what other name may I claim?” indicating her search for female authenticity. Nonetheless, she is still someone else’s Evelina. In the same letter, she portrays her sense of awareness to the idea that female writing is attached to morality when she equates her pen to her thoughts. She says, “my pen – or rather my thoughts” thus indicating that what she writes is an extension of her thoughts, and her thoughts are indicative of her morality (18). This is a concept we also see emerge in Samuel Richardson’s Pamela, where Pamela’s letters become records of her chastity and morality. Thus Evelina's identity is attached to her letters, and this manifests itself in a variety of ways (some instances she signs herself and in others, she refrains from doing so, thus presenting a complication in this concept of identity and letter writing).

I also find it interesting that Evelina is sometimes referred to in the third person. In letter XV, Mr. Villar says, “I had intended to have deferred writing, till I heard of her return to Howard Grove” (45). Although he writes this letter to Evelina, he nonetheless refers to her in the third person. Moreover, in letter XVIII, Mr. Orville says to Evelina, “And does Miss Anville feel no concern at the idea of the many mourners her absence will occasion?” (60). He then says, “I do think, that whoever has once seen Miss Anville, must receive an impression never to be forgotten” (60).  Mr. Villar and Mr. Orville are not directly speaking to Evelina; this concerns me because it seems that by referring to her in the third person, these male characters are distancing her and blurring her relevance to the conversation. Her identity is in the third person. Interestingly enough, in this same letter, Evelina defers from signing her name. Not only is she referred to in the third person, but by the end of the letter, she is not there at all. In “Signing Evelina: Female Self-Inscription in the Discourse of Letters,” Samuel Choi comments on Evelina’s signatures: “Evelina’s strategy of using her signatures – and the deferral of them –“ is “to insert herself into events, dialogues, and social structures from which she was previously excluded” (Choi 260). In deferring her signature, is Evelina drawing awareness to the fact that she is blurred from the dialogue? Is this her way to rebel against social standards of the epistolary form, thus assuming control of her own letter writing?

The last letter presents some complexities. Evelina says, “All is over…the fate of your Evelina is decided” (336). I think “All is over” remains somewhat ambiguous. Choi says, “ ‘All is over’ does lend itself to sad if not sinister undertones- a young, newly-wedded bride’s life described as “over” could easily suggest the sort of marriage ‘trap’ ”(261). What exactly is over? Evelina’s independence? And yet, Evelina’s letter is the last one of the novel. I think Burney gives Evelina authority in this sense; whereas in the beginning Evelina was distanced and discussed by others (similar to the instances of third person narration), in the end, she stands on her own. This is further illustrated in the way she signs her last letter, simply “Evelina” (Burney 337). She is no longer anyone’s Evelina (hence, the absence of “Your”). Her words and her name conclude the novel and stand on their own, as we don’t get a refute/reply from anyone else. Different from her initial exploration of self-definition, Evelina indicates a sense of self-authority when in the end, she simply signs, “Evelina.” 

Choi, Samuel. "Signing Evelina: Female Self-Inscription in the Discourse of Letters." Studies in the Novel 31.3 (1999): 259-78. ProQuest. Web. 5 Nov. 2013.