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COPYRIGHT 2007 Modern Humanities Research Association
The marks of elite forms such as the ode or the tragedy are retained when a title is cited. Historians of the book have considered every marginal element of the early modern title-page: typeface and compositors' marks; printers' scrollwork and frontispiece design; authors' names and imprint. When it comes to the self-descriptions of vernacular prose, however, we casually dispose of such tags as 'A grand repoof ...', 'A pious remonstrance ...', 'A quiet rebuke ...'. This essay argues that title-page markers of this kind have generic force, and that we would do well to acknowledge a taxonomy of subgenres not recognized before.
'What are you going to call it?'
She knew that intellectuals always made a great fuss about the titles of their books [...] Had not Victorian Vista, the scathing life of Thomas Carlyle, dropped stone cold last year from the presses because everybody thought it was a boring book of reminiscences, while Odour of Sanctity, a rather dull history of Drainage Reform from 1840 to 1873, had sold like hot cakes because everybody thought it was an attack on Victorian Morality. (1)
What, then, to make of Matthew Sutcliffe's choice of a title fort briefe replie to a certaine odious and slanderous libel, lately published by a seditious Fesuite, calling himselfe N.D. in defence both of publike enemies, and disloyall subjects, and entitled A temperate wardword, to Sir Francis Hastings turbulent Watchword wherein not only the honest, and religious intention, and zeale of that good knight is defended, but also the cause of true catholike religion, and the justice of her Majesties proceedings against popish malcontents and traitors, from divers malitious imputations and slanders cleared, and our adversaries glorious declamation answered, and refuted by O.E. defendant in the challenge, and encounters of N.D. (1600)? In this polemic title, typical of the early modern period, Sutcliffe directs a reader's attention to the form of the text as carefully as to its content: his is a brief reply. He also preserves the form of N.D.'s title (N. Doleman, the pseudonym for Robert Persons, SJ); Persons wrote A temperate ward-word, to the turbulent and seditious wach-word of Sir Francis Hastinges knight who indevoreth to slaunder the whole Catholique cause, & all professors therof, both at home and abrode (1599). Sutcliffe even keeps the formal elements of the title used by Persons's opponent, Sir Francis Hastings, in Hasting' s4 watch-word to all religious, and true hearted English-men (1598). Thus, in Sutcliffe's title a 'briefe replie' answers a 'slanderous libel' which calls itself a 'temperate wardword' to a 'turbulentWatchword', taking successively the form of a 'defence', an answer to a 'declamation', which 'refute[s]' the 'encounters'. A lot of effort has gone into keeping elements we usually drop when quoting the title as Sutcliffe's Replie to Persons'.
This essay asks whether we should treat early modern prose titles quite as cavalierly as we do. Most early modern English polemic tracts have several lines before and after what we regard as the substantive title. These are generally regarded as irrelevant. By contrast, markers of elite forms such as the ode, the tragedy, or the romance are accorded the status of generic indicators in our discussions and so retained when a title is cited. When it comes to the self-descriptions of vernacular prose, however, we casually dispose of such tags as 'A grand reproof of ...', 'A pious remonstrance to ...', 'A quiet rebuke for ...'. Yet should we always go for the bottom line? Does the rhetoric of the title give a description of its meaning? Is there a taxonomy of subgenres not recognized before? Historians of the book have already turned to every marginal element of the early modern title-page. We have looked at the physical evidence of typeface, paper, and compositors' marks. We have thought about the meaning carried by visual elements such as printers' scrollwork or the frontispiece. We have meditated on the information the title-page gives about the publishing history: the printers' and author's names, and licensing information. Now it may be time to fill in the great hole we have left in the centre of the page, and ponder on the title itself.
The issue of whether to cite in full or truncate early modern titles has come to the fore as a result of changes in three areas: in bibliographical practice, in the history of ideas, and in the history of the book. The first change is the widespread use in the last five years of Early English Books Online (EEBO) rather than the Short-Title Catalogue of Books Printed in England, Scotland, & Ireland and of English Books Printed Abroad, 1475-1640 (STC) for searching for texts. The move has made most of us more aware of full titles, partly because we can now do title and keyword online searches and so can be more independent about which words we will search for in a title, and also because now, even if carrying out author searches, the full title comes up. The plain text citations of EEBO have also changed our perspective since the typeface gives equal weight to all words, including what we would normally think of as non-substantive words. By contrast, the STC's citations focus on substantive words. Its original compilers in 1926, A. W. Pollard and G. R. Redgrave, declared that they regarded 'the opening words of every title [... ] as sacred; in the rest of the title abridgement has been drastic and (except for special reasons) without any indication of omission' (2). Admittedly, the policy of its revisers between 1976 and 1991, W. A. Jackson, E S. Ferguson, and Katharine F. Pantzer, was to make transcriptions slightly more expansive 'for the purpose of indicating the contents'. The editors said that they generally regarded the first five words of a title as 'essential'--but, they added, sometimes ellipses are used or 'a bracketed word is substituted for a lengthy phrase, as in "treatise [showing] that" for "treatise wherein is plainly demonstrated that"', while subtitles are largely omitted. (3) The impatient emphasis in a plain demonstration (none too subtly nudging the reader into agreement) becomes a neutral showing.
The second change affecting our citation of titles is an increased interest in early modern lines of information. Historians of argument are currently thinking about how opinion became fact in early modern political debate,. They consider how the seventeenth century's structures of communication could change what was surmised into what was known. Brendan Dooley and Sabrina Baron, for instance, describe the politics of information surrounding the Long Parliament of 1640-53, where printed speeches from the Commons circulated at the same time as sermons, petitions, tracts, diurnals, and manuscript newsletters. Dooley and Baron argue...
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