|
COPYRIGHT 2001 Rice University
Most modern readers of Jonathan Swift's greatest poem encounter a text that eighteenth-century readers would never have known. When we read a modem edition of Verses on the Death of Dr. Swift, we generally find a single version, entirely printed, containing no lacunae, and with footnotes either reduced in size or relegated to the back of the book. The visual and material qualities of eighteenth-century texts often differ from modern ones, but in the case of the Verses those differences are not only in degree but in kind. In the eighteenth century there were two dramatically conflicting versions of the poem, the more authoritative of which contained footnotes printed as large as the poem's lines, as well as numerous gaps sometimes filled in by hand. Thus, the early texts of this poem survive in a bewildering array of print, manuscript, and blank space. [1]
Having gathered evidence from over twenty eighteenth-century editions of the Verses and thirty-two annotated copies, I want to use this research to redirect the study of the poem. [2] By drawing on the often disparate fields of literary criticism, textual criticism, and the history of the book, I point to a climate in which textual variability was sometimes accepted and in which some readers actively shared and compared manuscripts and printed texts. In this context, my title "Reading the Material Text" has four different meanings. First, I read these documents to understand the poem's complex textual transmission, the traditional purview of textual editors. Second, I argue that Swift is primarily responsible for the unusual appearance of George Faulkner's early editions, and therefore the material text of these editions forms an integral part of Swift's intentions. Third, influenced by recent developments in textual criticism, I suggest that criticism of the poem should involve reading its material text. Fo urth, I show how the annotated copies help us understand the various ways in which eighteenth-century readers responded to the work. [3]
I
Tracing the textual transmission of Swift's Verses is especially difficult because it involves not only manuscript and printed evidence, but also their intricate interaction. Significant portions of the poem's notes exist only as manuscript additions copied onto printed texts. These documents pose a number of challenging problems, such as determining who copied the manuscript material, when, and from what source. The problems are even more vexing in that no authorial manuscript survives and that, as far as we know, Swift remained silent on these textual issues. Thus, we lack a complete base text from which to compare the other versions, and in addition, no two of the thirty-two known annotated copies are exactly alike. The singular, standardized text of modem editions masks a variability that was historically integral to the work's existence and that may have been authorially intended or at least sanctioned.
Careful inspection of these documents and other kinds of evidence provides a probable sketch of this particular work's circulation, which passed through all the possible media of transmission. Though Swift apparently composed the poem proper toward the end of 1731 and the notes later that spring, he chose not to commit the work to print for at least four years. After a period of oral circulation, amusingly recounted by Laetitia Pilkington, Swift had the Jacobite poet William King arrange print publication in London. Before doing so, however, King shared the manuscript with a select circle of Swift's friends, including at least Alexander Pope and John Boyle, earl of Orrery. Drastically edited and stripped of its notes by this group, the Verses was first published by Charles Bathurst in London in January 1739. Soon thereafter, George Faulkner, Swift's trusted Dublin bookseller, published a much longer version, containing the notes and many blank spaces that signified missing material. This material was then wr itten onto some Faulkner copies, though the ultimate sources remain obscure. The poem continued to have a complex existence even after 1739, appearing, appropriately enough, after Swift's death in The Dublin Courant and in various forms in numerous collected editions of his works. [4]
The complex intersection between print and script, as well as the textual variability that became so central to the work's subsequent existence, begins with Bathurst's edition. In that text, six lines depicting Queen Caroline's cruelty toward Swift were deleted and replaced with asterisks (fig. 1). Not surprisingly, this material was judged too controversial to be printed, but as King notes in a letter to Swift, "that incident is pretty well known, and care has been taken that almost every reader may be able to supply the blanks." [5] Exactly what King means by "care" is unclear; readers do not have enough context to supply precisely the missing words though they may be able to infer the general point. King probably means that these lines were shared orally or in manuscript, and, in fact, ten known copies of Bathurst's edition contain these lines in manuscript. These six lines were almost certainly recorded during a period shortly after the Bathurst edition's publication, for they differ from later printed v ersions, and thus do not seem to derive from any printed edition. These copies contain no other kinds of annotation, despite the circulation of Swift's manuscript around England, passing among King, Pope, Orrery, and possibly others. The absence of further annotation suggests that, at this time, this early manuscript did not circulate beyond this select circle. [6]
The variations among these ten copies' annotations point to the absence of a single authoritative version of these lines. The first manuscript line in figure 1 reads: "He's dead you say, why let him rot." Other copies variously supply the line as: "Well if he's dead then let him rot," or "As he is gone, so let him rot." [7] The other variations are similar in that they do not alter the overall sense of the lines, though they point to multiple manuscripts floating around, oral circulation, or a combination of both. In general, these annotations reveal readers' interests in ascertaining these lines, and the multiple asterisks probably helped convey a sense of controversy to those ignorant of the specific contents.
Shortly after Bathurst's edition appeared and before Faulkner's edition was published, manuscripts of the Verses began to circulate, though the evidence for this activity remains indirect. On 30 January 1739, King writes to Martha Whiteway, Swift's cousin, and apologetically refers to the edited Bathurst text while also stating that "It may not be amiss to tell you, that one Gaily, or Gaillie, since this poem was printed, offered it to sale to a bookseller at Temple-bar; and I am now told that there are two or three copies more in London. Gaillie pretends that he is just come from Ireland, and that he had directions to publish the poem here; so that perhaps the whole may at last appear, whether he will or not." [8] Nothing else is known about this mysterious figure Gaillie, but the letter suggests that he had some kind of manuscript which he was attempting to publish and that copies began to circulate. Unless King is baldly lying, this manuscript is not the same one that he had carried to London and shared w ith the others. King's statement that "perhaps the whole may at last appear" shows his suspicion that Gaillie's text is complete, or at least more complete than the text edited by himself and published by Bathurst.
No manuscript copies survive, though I think that eight annotated Faulkner copies provide evidence of their existence. Significantly, these copies contain manuscript material in places where there are no blanks to be filled. Enough repetition occurs across a small number of copies to suggest that readers are correcting or supplementing their Faulkner copies from manuscripts. Most of these changes occur in the notes, none of which Bathurst printed. For example, Faulkner's text describes Frances Charteris as "a most infamous, vile Scoundrel," whereas four annotated copies replace "vile" with "Scotch," "Scots," or "impudent Scotch" (see, for instance, fig. 2). [9] (For Swift, the epithets were synonymous, though some of his readers may not have shared the prejudice.)
Similarly, figure 3 shows changes to the notes on William Pulteney and Henry St. John, first viscount Bolingbroke. Here the reader has circled the printed words rather than crossed them out, suggesting a greater toleration for variants. The bottom of the page records a printed variant: "became his Mortal Enemy" for "opposed his Measures." In fact, the former phrase appears m an early state of this page, which this reader must have seen. The other variants do not appear in print, however: the insertion of "ill" before "Administration," "to expose his Corruptions," and "perfidiously."
As these variants appear in other copies, they suggest three probable stages of textual revision in which the anti-Walpole rhetoric is gradually softened, possibly by Faulkner. The handwritten variants in figure 3 reflect the pre-Faulkner text at its harshest: Pulteney, described as "detesting his [Walpole's] ill Administration, became his Mortal Enemy, and joyned with my Lord
Bolingbroke to expose his Corruptions." The early printed state of this page omits "ill" and states that Pulteney wanted "to expose him" with no mention of "corruptions." The printed text in figure...
Read the full article for free courtesy of your local library.
|