|
Art. 21. The Life of a Lover. In a Series of Letters. By Sophia Lee. Six Volumes. Crown 8vo. 1l. 16s. Robinsons. 1804.
In a very pleasing and rather original Preface, the fair author endeavours to interest the candid and pacify the severe among her readers. She confesses that the present is a production of early youth, and that in offering it to the public many years after it was originally written, she has chosen rather to leave it with the characters of juvenile feeling, than to correct it into something more insipid. We do not quite acquiesce in the propriety of this decision. A novel is, in our opinion, a composition which demands so happy a combination of imagination and judgment, that the circumstances most desirable are, that it should be formed in early life, when the former faculty is lively, and corrected at a later period, when the other has attained maturity.
The celebrity of the two sisters, Harriet and Sophia Lee, is so established by various productions, in this line and that of the Drama*, that the present work was sure to excite attention; which, in fact, it has done, to a very great extent. But though the ingenuity of the writer will be generally confessed, and many passages of great merit occur in her Novel, there will be few who will not, with us, wish that several parts had been altered. The youthful reverie of love at first sight, which forms that basis of the whole plot, being exemplified both in the heroine and her admirer, has little connection with nature. If the passion could be thus caught by mere fascination, the stars would indeed be more in fault, than those who contracted so accidental a disorder. The strange and unnatural marriage of the lady with an old man, and the unnecessarily tragical catastrophe that concludes her history, are all, in our opinion, glaring blemishes; nor is it a small fault, that the story is extended to six volumes. That those volumes are sold [318] at as many shillings each, is perhaps the fault of the publisher, but it is certainly unreasonable.
In a production of such variety and extent, it may perhaps seem too minute to object to particular expressions; yet when we meet with such a description as, 'Lady Henrietta, the youngest, is a dear, wild, auburn babe' (vol. i. p. 68) it is impossible not to feel an impression very like that of nonsense. A fondness for isolated**, and some other fantastical words, also blemishes the style, which otherwise is not without merit. Some friend, in the many years of suspended publication, should have advised the removal of them. But, after all, the narrative is the principal part of the Novel, and this we fear cannot be characterized more exactly than by violent love, and extravagant inconsistency.
* Canterbury Tales, jointly written; the Chapter of Accidents, by Sophia; and the Mysterious Marriage, by Harriet Lee.
** In p. 191, we have tremulation, perfectly a new term. However slightly ladies may think of it, the writing of pure English is indispensably required of those who write for the public. [complete]
Provided by Julie A. Shaffer, November 1999
|
