American Roguery in Three Acts

This blog discusses the nineteenth-century narratives of Ann Carson, Henry Tufts, and Stephen Burroughs, a few of America's most creative criminals. These posts were written as a response to readings from each text as part of my class in Early American Literature called Counterfeiting in Early America, a graduate English class taught by Dan Williams in the fall of 2010 at Texas Christian University in Fort Worth, Texas.

Monday, November 16, 2009

"My firm impression of Mrs. Carson's natural character was, that she would have been a virtuous, good, tame, gentle, affectionate domestic woman, (consequently not a heroine) had she been permitted to choose a husband for herself" (144). (I love this passage, but because I have already discussed women's roles and rights in other blogs, I will move on. I just wanted to share!)

After reading the portion of text written by Mary Clarke, I am perhaps more convinced of my conception of the character Ann Carson formed in my mind by reading her narrative. I am quite aware of Carson's self-fashioning methods and how her ultimate manifestation of her creation occurs in the text. However, I expected the voice of Mary Clarke and Ann Carson to be much more similar or sympathizing. Also surprising, Clarke contradicts herself several times in her portion of the narrative. She first agrees to write the book for Carson only if her authorship is kept a secret. On page 148, Clarke says "one of my stipulations with Mrs. Carson was, that I should not be known in the business--naturally expecting to receive my money for the writing, and that the business would terminate there" (148). Yet several pages later (p. 160), Clarke claims "I wrote the work and am not ashamed of the matter." I speculate several factors contributed to this change of heart. First, Carson first tries to get the book published by Mr. D with the understanding the book would eventually be published with Carson as the assumed author, as Clarke "did not wish to be known in it" (150). Furthermore, several members of the banditti attempt to pay off Carson with quite a sum of money and a offer of relocation to "either New York, Boston, Baltimore or any of the other southern cities, and establish us in a genteel boarding house" (152). Not until this scene does Clarke truly assert her involvement with "the book." She tells the rogues to lay off: "Not quite so fast...I am now her partner in the work, and it shall not be suppressed" (153). Clarke begins to realize the publication of Carson's narrative could make her famous. Famous and Rich. At least, that's what I'm reading here. And I think that is why she puts up with so much of Carson's deviant behavior. Clarke herself is not a rebel, but she is a writer and knows that in Ann Carson she has some really good material.
Clarke's narrative gives a great deal of insight on the ins and outs of 19th century publication. In this case, the publication woes can explain away many of the inconsistent or just plain wacky use of literary devices. For example, Clarke sometimes provides introduction to passages (200) in which she directly addresses the reader. Also, (and of course, now I can't find a page number) after Clarke spends a significant portion of the text describing one event, she will return to "where we left Ann" alone and despairing in some cell or at the brink of doom in some other scrape. But these elements of Clarke's style are not really consistent. So, this reminds me that spelling, grammar, and a great number of other conventions were not yet set in stone in the early 19th century. Also, we did not have graduates of Ivy League English departments running the publishing companies. Rather, these people somehow just fell into the profession, one way or another. Still, none of these considerations can quite explain the wackiness occuring on page 204 and continuing until for several pages. Okay, I get most of the Shakespeare, cliches, characters and the general idea of most of the references, but Why, Clarke, Why? This passage was so inexplicably annoying to me, I had to skip through most of it.

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