The Land of Lost Content: Children and Childhood in Nineteenth-Century French Literature , and: Moral Instruction and Fiction for Children 1749-1820 (review)

Diderot's Jacques le Fataliste et son Maître: Ex-Centricity and the "Novel"Marie-Hélène Chabut Critical studies of all kinds have consistently failed to define Diderot's work and Jacques le Fataliste in particular. In recent years, the failure of a unifying discourse on Diderot has become, and rightly so, an indicator of his success as an artist and creator. Many readings ??Jacques see it as no more than a dogmatic "meta" discourse, which questions the existence of "novel" as a literary genre1 or which challenges the philosophical concept of narrative mimesis.2 In this essay I intend to show that Jacques cannot be reduced to a mere commentary on institutionalized conventions. In order to do so I will introduce the term "ex-centric" when speaking of Jacques le Fataliste. I will keep the Latin prefix which designates the idea of being "out of." The interest of this word lies in the complexity of its meanings, mathematical and spatial on the one hand (off-centre), moral and censorious on the other. In the first group of meanings , the word is mostly descriptive; in the second group, it constitutes a generally negative judgment (abnormal, foolish, humorous, irregular, odd, queer, off-balance, and so forth). If we merely consider the etymology of the word, it is very close to Bakhtin's notion of the "centrifugal." According to Bakhtin the dialogic or "centrifugal" force in language is what escapes canonization, what makes every text "new." It is constantly 1 See for example Robert Mauzi, "La parodie romanesque dans Jacques le Fataliste," Diderot Studies, 6 (1964), 89-132. 2 See Thomas Kavanagh, The Vacant Mirror: A Study ofMimesis through Diderot's "Jacques Ie Fataliste," in Studies on Voltaire and the Eighteenth Century, 104 (1973). EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY FICTION, Volume 2, Number 1, October 1989 54 EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY FICTION checked and concealed, however, by the "centripetal" or centralizing force in language. The second force tends to prevail in everyday "correct language " as well as in the genres of the literary canon. It tends to hide the ideological and historical nature of discourse, to unify it, in a word, to "enslave" it.3 One may notice a major difference, however, between the terms "centrifugal" and "ex-centric": Bakhtin uses a word which sounds neutral, or "scientific," and he gives it a positive connotation. Let us not forget that Bakhtin is not concerned with a particular text but is rather trying to develop a theory of "discursive genres," which explains the choice of such a term. The word "ex-centric," on the contrary, is obviously impregnated with ideology: if an object, text, person, is off-centre, it is excluded from normality, from the canon, literary or otherwise. It is interesting to note that ex-centricity is associated with humour, oddity, and foolishness. Now, like the word "ex-centric" itself, no word or text can have a univocal meaning, although some texts tend to make us believe that their "message" is obvious. I believe that Jacques le Fataliste engages in a systematic exposition of the diversity of voices from which it is built. It reveals itself as intertextual rather than metatextual, or, in Bakhtinian terms, as dialogical. "The dialogic orientation of discourse is a phenomenon that is ... a property oíany discourse. It is the natural orientation of any living discourse .... The word is born in a dialogue as a living rejoinder within it."4 Bakhtin asserts in this way the "dialogic" character of any text, or in other words the fact that meaning never is, never can be, "pure" and settled once and for all. Any discourse is always in a dialogical relationship with the language—or languages—of an other—or others. Hence, "my" discourse does not belong to me. It springs from a complex historical system of conventions that it cannot transcend: "Language , for the individual consciousness, lies on the borderline between oneself and the other" (p. 293). This dialogism "does not assume any external compositional forms of dialogue" (p. 279). It is independent from what we generally call dialogue, which supposes an explicit interaction between an "I" and a "you." In artistic expression, and more precisely in what Bakhtin calls "artistic...

Reviewed by: Rousseau's Émile and Early Children's Literature Robert J. Bator (bio) Sylvia W. Patterson . Rousseau's Émile and Early Children's Literature (Metuchen, New Jersey: Scarecrow Press, 1971). Histories of children's literature usually hop through the eighteenth century in a single chapter. Newbery, Day, Edgeworth and a few others are leapfrogged in an impatient effort to get on to that "golden" nineteenth century. To see Patterson pause to search out some of the rarer stuff from the 1700's is pleasurable. That Patterson, limiting herself to the influence of one philosopher on ten English writers in the last twenty years of the century, can come up with a 177-page book demonstrates how rich the period can be. After lengthy summary of Émile, the author painstakingly scrutinizes for Rousseau's influence twenty-one works from: Anna Barbauld and John Aikin, Thomas Day, Maria Edgeworth, Eleanor Fenn, Dorothy and Mary Jane Kilner, Hannah More, Sarah Trimmer, and Mary Wollstonecraft. Influence is too strong a word. Patterson acknowledges that her intent is to show what Rousseau's ideas were, that major authors knew them, and that some of the ideas crop up in the juvenile works covered. Where direct influence cannot be posited, Patterson wisely suggests that Rousseau's ideas coincide with a given author. Mostly, Patterson demonstrates such parallelism abundantly and credibly. [End Page 238] Thus, when she points out that Rousseau felt the same way that Mary Wollstonecraft did about breast feeding, the reader cannot carp. A few pages later (p. 109) Patterson converts this to "Mary Wollstonecraft follows Rousseau in the idea of the mother nursing her own child." Such overreaching does not clarify but clouds the extent of Rousseau's influence. On Wollstonecraft there is also some omission. Only internal evidence is cited by Patterson to show that Original Stories (1788) exhibits Wollstonecraft's use of Rousseau, yet at least one biographer of Wollstonecraft gives the year and month when she read Émile—and her favorable reaction to it (G. R. Stirling Taylor, Mary Wollstonecraft: a Study in Economics and Romance, London: Martin Secker, 1911, p. 74). In summarizing Émile and in illustrating the central irony of Rousseau's disciples writing any books for children, Patterson is admirable. I would fault only the selective vision. What about some apostles of Rousseau who, though French, had a wide English audience? Maria Edgeworth saw Arnaud Berquin's The Children's Friend (England, 1783) as universally popular. She also translated a work of Madame de Genlis to whom one critic attributes more influence in England than Émile. Even accepting the restriction to English authors, one finds the works chosen with a restricted field of vision. Granted that three works by Lady Eleanor Fenn can epitomize the fourteen or so she wrote, why not include Fables in Monosyllables (c. 1783), which Patterson mentions but does not cite even though it contains the first direct quotation from Rousseau in an English children's book? Why omit that and then hunt for parallels to Émile in her other works? One suspects that Fenn's Fables were not accessible to the author. Only eight of the major works traced by Patterson are used in eighteenth-century versions; of the eight only four are first editions. Such versions are admittedly hard to come by, but later editions are likely to be brutally revised the way even Goody Two-Shoes was butchered by nineteenth-century editors. To focus on major authors is a sound way of explicating Rousseau. It might be difficult to grant even nodding attention to what Percy Muir calls the "monstrous regiment" of anonymous and lesser known female writers of the period. One can dispense with Harriet English or Lucy Peacock, but Lucy Pinchard in The Two Cousins (1794) and H. S.'s Anecdotes of Mary (1795) both contain direct quotations from Rousseau. There may be more among the hack writers. Under minor lapses in biography, the reader should know that the Kilners, Mary Jane and Dorothy, were not sisters, as Patterson has them, but sisters-in-law. The notion of Rousseau's influence on juvenile literature which has often been skeletally treated elsewhere has been fleshed out by Patterson...

Eighteenth-Century Prefigurements Robert Bator (bio) John Locke and Children's Books in Eighteenth-Century England, by Samuel F. Pickering, Jr.Knoxville: University of Tennessee Press, 1981. In the mid-1780s, the Critical Review found children's books "scarcely objects of criticism" but urged that they be "perused . . . with some care." Two centuries later, the Georgian storybook is still scarcely an object of criticism. While there have been some recent dissertations and several articles, books on the subject would include only Florence V. Barry's A Century of Children's Books (1922, rpt. 1968), Sylvia W. Patterson's Rousseau's "Émile" and Early Children's Literature (1971), and now Samuel F. Pickering, Jr.'s John Locke and Children's Books in Eighteenth-Century England. Children's literature historians have examined the eighteenth century when, in Harvey Darton's words, juvenile literature really opens up, but often with one eye on the upcoming century. For example, Darton found in Dorothy Kilner's Life and Perambulation of a Mouse a pre-Alice fantasy framework. The eighteenth-century book becomes mere prefigurement to be lamented and disposed of before one gets to the more fanciful creations of the following century. What eighteenth-century writers were about, not what they prefigured, is the focus of Pickering's book. It shows the two men who were mainly responsible for what amusement was sanctioned at all in children's books—both named John, one a physician-philosopher and the other a small-town printer who married his boss's widow and moved to London. John Locke's Some Thoughts Concerning Education (1693), as Pickering shows, urged that nothing be overlooked that would form children's minds. Finding little beyond Aesop, primers, and psalters, Locke suggested that pleasant books suited to a child's capacity be made available. Within a generation, Isaac Watts's Divine Songs (1715) became the book of poetry for English children, popular for [End Page 175] more than a century. Watts, Pickering explains, followed Locke's denial of innate ideas and consequent fervor for forming the impressionable child, and, although not always heeding Locke's caution against "being unreasonably forward" in religious education, softened somewhat the Puritan compulsion to literally scare the hell out of children. Forty years after Locke's death, when British parents had long taken in Locke's educational theory, as Pickering shows, John Newbery published his first juvenile, A Little Pretty Pocket-Book. Its preface to parents is an extensive paraphrase from the pediatric sections of Some Thoughts Concerning Education. Here is the kind of book "the great Mr. Locke" would approve, Newbery seems to be saying. And Newbery was, as Locke urged, making sure that children were "cozen'd into a Knowledge of the Letters" by encasing his sixpenny publication with shiny paper covers and by associating task work such as learning the alphabet with children's games like hopscotch. Pickering plays a bit of literary hopscotch himself in taking the reader from Locke to Watts to Newbery. While Newbery is lauded for using gilt flowery Dutch boards, Thomas Boreman's books—which were sold a few years earlier—were bound, we are told in an appendix, "like Newbery's books." I agree with Pickering that Newbery's books were "shiningly superior" to Boreman's Gigantick Histories, but Newbery capitalized on a feature employed by earlier publishers, a point emphasized by the title of the appendix, "John Newbery's Predecessors." Pickering is on target in labeling the Gigantick Histories pedestrian tour-books, but Boreman did republish a miscellany with Mary Cooper, another Newbery predecessor tucked away in the same appendix. Her preface to A Child's New Play-Thing also leaned heavily on Locke. To be told that Boreman's or Cooper's books resembled the typical Newbery book can confuse. There was no typical Newbery book when Mary Cooper published A Child's New Play-Thing, which was, as Pickering notes, in its second edition in 1743. Admittedly, Pickering is not employing a strict chronology. Yet while it is valid to view Boreman and Cooper over the shoulder of John Newbery, given the fact that literature historians such as Darton did not include Boreman at all, [End...

Reviewed by: Children's Literature Collections: Approaches to Research ed. by Keith O'Sullivan and Pádraic Whyte Minjie Chen (bio) Children's Literature Collections: Approaches to Research. Edited by Keith O'Sullivan and Pádraic Whyte. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2017. Children's Literature Collections: Approaches to Research is a valuable addition to scholarship on the origin and development of Irish children's literature. The twelve essays in the volume grew out of the National Collection of Children's Books (NCCB) project, which culminated in an online union catalog and database of over 250,000 children's books from five libraries in Dublin, dating from the sixteenth century up to 2014. The book's title is suggestive of methodological contributions, but the real focus and strength of this essay collection is that it builds an understanding of the history of children's texts, reading, and education upon a rich heritage of primary materials held in Dublin. The disjuncture between the aspiration of the title words and the essence of the volume is betrayed by the latitude of "approach," used in the introduction section to variously refer to method (how) and foci of inquiry (what) of the studies. The collection engages with children's literature through the lenses of history, education, and literature. A major part of the book traces the origin and evolution of Irish children's literature, highlighting early texts, key publishers, and significant authors and works from the end of the seventeenth century through the twentieth. Máire Kennedy captures evidence of Irish children as readers and target consumers of instructional and educational books during the eighteenth century. She discusses children's exposure to hornbooks and chapbooks; notes the rise of illustrated books; demonstrates her skillful use of a variety of sources such as booksellers' advertisements, publishers' ledgers and subscription lists, guides and advice on reading, and adults' accounts of childhood reading; and helps us imagine young people's access to and interaction with books as child-oriented literature gradually increased. Anne Markey's study is bracketed by two dates: 1696, when the earliest Irish-published textbook specifically aimed at young readers was issued (as discovered by the NCCB bibliographical project), and 1810, the year before the foundation of the Kildare Place Society in Dublin. Kennedy's findings notwithstanding, Markey points out the paucity of children's books in early eighteenth-century Ireland. Using British children's literature as a benchmark, she describes the Irish children's book market as dominated by instructional texts as well as by imported, translated, and reprinted works from England and France. She identifies key publishers and pioneer writers whose works, though modest in quantity, marked the birth of indigenous Irish children's literature and made important contributions to the development of English children's literature. Aileen Douglas's analysis focuses on the works of Maria Edgeworth, the most influential Irish children's author to have emerged by the end of the eighteenth century. Douglas sheds light on the dual nature [End Page 496] of Edgeworth's didacticism and argues that her Early Lessons series presents an innovative literary representation of children's selfhood. In her role as novelist/educationalist, Edgeworth not only imparts factual information and moral teachings but also demonstrates how child protagonists are able to learn and to improve through the process of "gradual instruction," a manifestation of her educational principles. Susan M. Parkes picks up in 1811 where Markey leaves off; she devotes her essay to the significant role of the Kildare Place Society (KPS) in producing widely disseminated reading materials for Irish children and in promoting mass education. Parkes attributes the success of the Society, which admired the Quakers, to the neutrality of its publications in terms of Irish identity and religious persuasion. Several major authors and canonical works from the nineteenth century onward receive close reading, paratextual analysis, and sociopolitical critiques in this volume, yielding insightful (re)interpretations. Ciara Ní Bhroin studies Fairy Legends and Traditions of the South of Ireland, the first collection of oral tales to have been published in Britain or Ireland. She examines how the collection underwent drastic transformations against the backdrop of cultural and political shifts in Ireland, beginning as an...

In The Mis-Education of the Negro (1933), Carter G. Woodson asserts that there would be no lynching if it did not start in the schoolroom (2). By suggesting the formative influence of children's culture on social relations, Woodson highlights an idea that courses through the body of ethnic American children's literature. Whether writing in the nineteenth, twentieth, or twenty-first centuries, authors infuse texts with the hope that through childhood, that potent period in an individual's development, sensibilities can be transformed. Children's literature allows readers a means to reconceptualize their relationship to ethnic and national identities. Telling stories to a young audience becomes the conduit for social and political revolution. For some readers of MELUS, this volume may be their first introduction to the vital field of ethnic children's literature. Most interesting for scholars will be the field's special contextual and theoretical issues. A primary factor that distinguishes ethnic children's literature from adult literature is its complexly layered audience, for children's literature reaches various adult mediators as well as child readers. Publishers, librarians, schoolteachers, and parents read and evaluate children's texts in anticipation of a young audience, which is also multiply constituted. Ethnic children's literature becomes a particularly intense site of ideological and political contest, for various groups of adults struggle over which versions of ethnic identity will become institutionalized in school, home, and library settings; groups and individuals often advance specific reading and purchasing guidelines. Extending the tiers of adult mediation are the multiple prizes and awards which help shape marketplace demand and expectations for ethnic children's literature. (1) In addition to the Caldecott and Newbery Awards, prizes specific to ethnic texts are becoming determinative, including the Pura Belpre Award given by the American Library Association (ALA), the Americas Award for Children's and Young Adult Literature sponsored by the Consortium of Latin American Studies Programs (CLASP), the ALA's Coretta Scott King Award, the Wordcraft Circle Award, the Carter G. Woodson Book Award, and the Tomas Rivera Mexican American Children's Book Award, among others. Institutions in their various forms--parents' groups, school systems, library associations, publishers--are powerful forces shaping the contours and content of ethnic children's texts. Julia Mickenberg's essay and the interviews here with Christopher Paul Curtis and Nicolas Kanellos acknowledge the complex ideological exchanges that preface the publication of any ethnic children's text. Because works often narrate and explain details of a traumatic past, like the internment of Japanese Americans or the enslavement of African Americans, to an audience innocent of historical knowledge, the stakes are high: adult mediators recognize the gravity of their role as gatekeepers to history and arbiters of ethnic identity. Scholars of ethnic literature will therefore find much complexity in the ways writers construct history and negotiate the demands of various audiences. In addition to adult mediators and young readers, ethnic children's literature is often targeted both to insider and outsider groups. If part of its agenda is didactic in advancing revivified versions of history and identity, texts often consciously address both the ethnic child reader and those in other populations. For children of the ethnicity represented textually, authors encourage resistance to pejorative categorizations by asking the reader to reimagine herself, to identify herself with the texts' cultural models. For a reader from another ethnic group, texts often encourage cross-cultural amity and understanding as a means to dispel prejudice. Early children's literature (perhaps because of the features of the marketplace) appears even more sensitive to the presence of a non-ethnic child audience and seems deeply invested in realignments of social power and in responding to ethnic stereotypes, as Tony Dykema-VanderArk's essay reminds us. …

German Quixotism, or Sentimental Reading: Musäus's Richardson Satires John P. Heins Over the last tiiirty-five years or so, scholars ofeighteenth-century German literature have attempted to expand earlier conceptions ofliterary and cultural value by filling in the picture ofthe print culture ofthat era. Where previously the artistic triumphs ofGoethe and Schiller's Weimar classicism provided the privileged object of interest for most scholars, in more recent decades a fuller variety of literary movements and cultural expressions has been subjected to renewed and more broadly conceived scholarly exploration. In particular, the field ofsentimentalism {Empfindsamkeit) has benefited gready from diis new attention.1 The centrality of this movement to eighteenth-century German literature and thought has been reestablished , particularly in the relation of the movement to questions of genre and thus to the hierarchies ofprint culture, as well as to larger 1 Among book-length studies, see especially Georgjäger, Empfindsamkeit undRoman: Weltgeschichte , Tlteorie und Kritik im 18. undfrühen 19.Jaltrhundert (Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 1969); Gerhard Sauder, Empfindsamkeit,vol. 1 (Stuttgart:Metzler, 1974);WolfgangDoktor,.D¿e.Krií¿* derEmpfindsamkeit (Frankfurt am Main: Lang, 1975); Peter Uwe Hohendahl, Dereuropäisc/ie Roman der Empfindsamkeit (Wiesbaden: Athenaion, 1977); Nikolaus Wegmann, Diskurse der Empfindsamkeit· ZurGeschichteânes Gefühls in derLiteraturdes 18.Jalirhunderts (Stuttgart: Metzler, 1988). I would like to thankAlex and Karen Winter-Nelson for facilitating the first version of this article, and Margaret Gonglewski and Walter Rankin for enabling die final version. EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY FICTION, Volume 16, Number 3, April 2004 420 EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY FICTION questions of literary representation and of the role of the arts in modern societies.2 What a literary representation is, and how one does or should respond to it, are questions central to debates around die sentimental novel, and, not coincidentally, central to quixotism. Since the publication of Cervantes' Don Quixote in the early seventeenth century, the "quixotic problem" experienced awide variety of expressions in European cultures as writers used the quixotic figure to explore die relationship ofliterature to the empirical realm. In the eighteenth century especially, die literary engagementwith quixotism addresses die function ofaesthetic illusion as it satirically or humorously portrays the purported effects ofreading imaginative literature. The quixote is the literal-minded reader who mistakenly believes diat die world portrayed in literature is literally true, and then interprets die empirical world according to die terms and forms supplied by the particular category ofliterary fictions.3 Eighteenth-century Germanlanguage portrayals of this literal-minded reader, the quixote, are generally intended satirically, in contrast to the portrayal of Don Quixote as a heroic and noble dreamer in later periods.4 A particularly significant eighteenth-century German variant of quixotism is, in fact, the satirical portrayal of sentiment; in the German context, we may risk the generalization that quixotism and sentimentalism tend to appear together. Perhaps more than in other national literatures in the eighteenth century, in German literature the quixote is the unwitting victim of sentimental novels.5 The On the relationship ofsentimentalism to the novel genre, in addition toJäger (above) see also Dieter Kimpel, Der Roman der Aufklärung (1670-1774), 2nd ed. (Stuttgart: Metzler, 1977) and Wilhelm Vosskamp, Romantheorie in Deutschland: Von Martin Opitz bisFriedrich von Blanckenburg(Stuttgart: Metzler, 1973). On the emerging stratification ofthe print market, see Helmuth Kiesel and Paul Munch, Gesellschaß und Literatur im 18. Jahrhundert: Voraussetzungen undEntstehungdes literarischen Markts in Deutschland (Munich: Beck, 1977). My definition here differs from other recent definitions because it prioritizes misreading over the naive belief in ideals and the reader's tragi-comic sympathy (Jürgen Jacobs, Don Quijote in derAufklärung [Bielefeld: Aisthesis, 1992]), the idealistic madness and the form of die quest (Ronald Paulson, Don Quixote in England- TlteAestlielics ofLaugliter [Baltimore and London: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1998]), and idiosyncratic reason (Wendy Motooka, The Age ofReasons: Quixotism, Sentimentalism and Political Economy in EigliteenthCentury Britain [London: Roudedge, 1998]). Jacobs, above; Theo In der Smitten, Don Qiixote (der "riclitigc" under der "fabelte") und sieben deutscheLeser (Bern: Lang, 1986). See especiallyJacobs, and Lieselotte Kurth, Die zweite Wirklichkeit: Studien zum Roman des achtzehnten Jahrhunderts (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1969), for informative discussions of eighteenth-century German quixotism, neither of which, however, exhausts die question...

Early children's literature plays a major role in the development of attitudes. This annotated bibliography is a compilation of early children's literature that contains positive portrayals of elders. Selected for the bibliography were books that portray aging as a natural and lifelong process of growing and developing, present similarities between young and old, show young and old enjoying each other and learning from each other, and view older adults as valuable and contributing members of society. The annotated bibliography contains 95 current titles. It also pinpoints 14 favorite books and lists 9 now out-of-print favorites. Includes a literature analysis form for promoting positive attitudes about aging with young children. (NKA) Reproductions supplied by EDRS are the best that can be made from the original document. Growing Up and Growing Older: Books for Young Readers An Annotated Bibliography of Nonageist Literature for Preschool-Primary by Dr. Sandra L. McGuire The author would like to acknowledge The University of Tennessee Professional Development Award program for its support of this project. U.S. DEPARTMENT OF EDUCATION Office of Educational Research and Improvement EDUCATIONAL RESOURCES INFORMATION CENTER (ERIC) This document has been reproduced as CA received from the person or organization Noriginating it. Minor changes have been made to improve reproduction quality. 't7:1 C/) Points of view or opinions stated in this document do not necessarily represent official OERI position or policy. BEST COPY AVAlLABLE 2 PERMISSION TO REPRODUCE AND DISSEMINATE THIS MATERIAL HAS BEEN GRANTED BY TO THE EDUCATIONAL RESOURCES INFORMATION CENTER (ERIC) Growing Up and Growing Older: Books for Young Readers An Annotated Bibliography of Nonageist Literature for Preschool-Primary by Dr. Sandra L. McGuire INTRODUCTION Early children's literature plays a major role in the development of attitudes. This annotated bibliography is a compilation of early children's literature that contains positive portrayals of elders. Books were selected that portray aging as a natural and lifelong process of growing and developing, present similarities between young and old, show young and old enjoying each other and learning from each other, and view older adults as valuable and contributing members of society. Books have not been included that deal extensively with death, dying and disability. These topics are not synonymous with aging. Unfortunately, there are many gaps in children's literature in relation to aging. Elder heroes, role models, workers, leaders, famous older people, planning for old age and similarities beyond young are essentially missing. When elders are portrayed they are most often in the role of a grandparent. Many portrayals of older adults are stereotypic in nature. Many children's books have no older characters in them. To assist in locating and ordering book only books-in-print have been listed. When two book prices are listed, the first price is for the hardbound edition and the second for the paperback edition. Unfortunately, many children's books quickly go out-of-print, and a short booklist of some favorite OOPS (out-of-print stories) is given. We need to work with authors and publishers to keep excellent stories, such as those on the OOPS list, in print. All books should be reviewed for appropriateness prior to use. If the reading level of a book is beyond that of the child you can the story. Having an read the book to the child can be a great experience. Who better to talk about growing up and growing older than an elder. Whether the children read the books themselves, or have the books read to them, the stories can stimulate interesting discussions. Use the books to help children think in terms of lifespan activities and see their elder within.* It is hoped that both adults and children will enjoy the books listed, and that the books will make a significant contribution to promoting positive attitudes about aging with children. Some of the author's favorite in print books are given at the end of the booklist. Aging education units have to accompany the booklist are available through the National Academy for Teaching and Learning About Aging (NATLA) at the University of North Texas (http://www.unt.edu/natla). A form to use for analyzing children's books for ageism is included at the back of the booklist. Please contact the author: Dr. Sandra L. McGuire, Associate Professor, College of Nursing, University of Tennessee, Knoxville, TN 37996, phone: (865) 974-7589 or 966-8832 with questions. *Elder within is a term used by Ken Dychtwald and Joe Fowler in their book Age Wave (1990). New York: Bantam Books.

Culturing the Child 1690–1914: Essays in Memory of Mitzi Myers. Ed. Donelle Ruwe. Lanham, MD: Children's Literature Association and Scarecrow P, 2005. Mitzi Myers was unquestionably the founding mother of eighteenth-century children's literature criticism, and her untimely death was a great loss to the scholarship of that important period. Myers's readings challenged and routed the ad feminam attacks on women writers for children by Charles Lamb, Samuel Taylor Coleridge, and Charles Dickens, attacks that influenced children's literature criticism and history for many generations afterward. Because of Myers we admire rather than vilify the accomplishments of those redoubtable women who challenged their periods' assumptions about women and children. At the same time she disputed and revised past assessments, Myers inspired contemporary feminist critics to evaluate women writers not only as feminists but also as writers and thinkers, placing them in context and not succumbing to what C. S. Lewis called "chronological snobbery," the "presentist" assumption that we always know better than persons in the past. Myers's work taught us that we should not uncritically repeat past truisms without considering their source; as well, she showed us that no critical theory, however vast its claims, can replace careful reading and consideration of the cultural and historical contexts in which a text was produced. The essays in Culturing the Child 1690–1914 provide a fitting tribute to Mitzi Myers in their variety, their range, and their methodology. Culturing the Child is divided into four parts, each of which highlights a different aspect of Myers's legacy. The first, "Creating the Contexts of Children's Literature," focuses upon the eighteenth-century writers and publishers of children's books who laid the groundwork for later developments in children's literature. Chapter one, an essay by Ruth Bottigheimer on the usually yawn-inducing topic of bibliography, ought to be required reading in any graduate class in children's literature for the valuable overview she gives of what is and is not known about early children's books, publishers, and popularity. [End Page 218] Bottigheimer not only convinces readers of the rewards of more systematic study of books as objects rather than as simple containers of text (retrievable through microfilms and reproductions), she also provides the conceptual tools needed to perform such study. Next, Karen E. Rowe's article relates a useful history of the discourse and debates surrounding the eighteenth-century fairy tale, its production, and its suitability for children. Contemporary histories of children's literature are well versed in the debates between realism and romance; however, discussions about the role of the imagination, morality, and narrative within the fantasy tradition are not so widely known. Rowe's article provides important background on that debate, beginning with Charles Perrault and culminating in Mrs. Trimmer's repudiation of the form. Last in this section, Julia Briggs's enjoyable and illuminating essay on women, children, and reading in the eighteenth century demonstrates the extent to which the educational theories of John Locke and others were being debated in children's and adult literature of the time, from Samuel Richardson's Pamela to John Newbery's Goody Two Shoes and Sarah Fielding's Little Female Academy. This essay, too, will be valuable reading for any student of the eighteenth century interested in adult-child cross-writing, another important thematic strand in Mitzi Myers's critical oeuvre. Part two of Culturing the Child focuses on the "Rational Dames" so central to Myers's criticism. These chapters build upon her foundation and develop new avenues for further study. William McCarthy's fascinating study of the pedagogy behind Anna Barbauld's Lessons for Children helps us to appreciate the loving sensitivity she had for children's educational needs and does a great deal to recuperate her work for further study. Marjean Purinton's essay on Hannah More is informative and historically situated, albeit too prone to finding More's work insufficiently feminist and therefore wanting. M...

The Huge Motley Field of Early British Children's Literature Carolyn Sigler (bio) Mary V. Jackson . Engines of Instruction, Mischief, and Magic: Children's Literature in England from Its Beginning to 1839. Lincoln: UP of Nebraska, 1989. Engines of Instruction, Mischief, and Magic is an ambitious and often impressive survey of the early history of children's literature in England. It took Mary Jackson more than ten years of research, writing, and scholarly detective-work to complete, and its strength lies in its wealth of detail about little-known and rarely discussed types of literature read by children, including early religious works and what Jackson calls the "secular adult forerunners" of children's literature from the fourteenth to the eighteenth centuries. The abundance of detail, however, is also a major weakness in this study, which occasionally lacks focus, slights important writers, and provides hasty, sometimes misleading, summaries of the literature. The real "beginnings" of children's literature for Jackson come in 1744, when John Newbery's publishing firm opened at the sign of the Bible and Crown in London—the first company actively to market a line of books especially designed for children. The first chapter of Engines focuses on this "Birth of the Children's Book Trade" and its impact on the literary marketplace as well as its important cultural role in "disseminating information about the principles and practical advances of the Enlightenment" (11). Jackson argues convincingly that Newbery, who revolutionized the literary marketplace with his innovative line of colorful and diminutive children's books, was indebted as much to religious writers of the previous century as to the secular writers of popular chapbooks, romances, and courtesy books. In the fascinatingly detailed second and third chapters, Jackson backtracks to the thirteenth through the early eighteenth centuries to trace the influences of these religious and secular writers who either wrote for or appealed to a communal audience of adults and children, including Puritan writers such as Nathanial Crouch and [End Page 96] John Bunyan, and secular writers such as Jonathan Swift and Daniel Defoe. Jackson demonstrates persuasively that the Puritan values of education, self-improvement, and industry, overlapping the larger secular concerns of the growing and reform-minded middle class in England, ultimately remained core values in later children's literature of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Jackson's analysis of the development of children's literature as a marketing concept, and the growing power of the children's publishing industry to mediate between authors and audience, could be one of the strengths of this study; indeed, an exclusive investigation of "the various conditions and events, beliefs and ideas, that lay behind book trade developments" in children's literature would make a fascinating and important contribution to the field (x). The usefulness of this discussion is diminished, however, by a failure to recognize and clarify the important distinctions among children's literature, children's books, and the children's publishing industry—which Jackson often confuses and uses interchangeably. The tracing of literary publishing and marketing for children constitutes but one of the several major objectives of this survey, which Jackson describes in her preface as an attempt both to encompass and surpass previous histories of the period, including Harvey Darton's Children's Books in England, Mary Thwaite's From Primer to Pleasure in Reading and Samuel Pickering's John Locke and Children's Books in Eighteenth-Century England. Engines proposes to give the reader "a clear picture of the inner consistencies in children's books, and between them and their religious, philosophical, sociopolitical, and trade conditions and esthetic and literary contexts," thus promising to historicize five hundred years of sociological background, economic factors, political and religious influences, biography, and literary developments in approximately two hundred fifty well-illustrated pages. In seeking "to account fully for this huge motley of a field," Engines disregards questions being raised by New Historical, Marxist, and feminist critics about the very problematic nature of writing literary or any other sort of history and fails to acknowledge, or even to be aware of, its own traditional New Critical perspective (ix). And, although Jackson acknowledges her indebtedness to earlier studies such as Darton's, Thwaite's...

Reviewed by: Constructing the Canon of Children’s Literature: Beyond Library Walls and Ivory Towers Marla J. Ehlers (bio) Anne Lundin . Constructing the Canon of Children’s Literature: Beyond Library Walls and Ivory Towers. New York: Routledge, 2004. Charge any group of children's librarians or children's literature scholars with creating a definitive canon of children's literature, and before a single text makes the cut both groups will be discussing passionately (rather, arguing vehemently) over the canon's principles and parameters, even whether a canon should be formed at all. Anne Lundin demonstrates in her history Constructing the Canon of Children's Literature: Beyond Library Walls and Ivory Towers that such discussion is not new to either field but is core to each discipline's formation as a profession. Lundin achieves this through unearthing the early histories of both children's librarianship and children's literature studies, revealing that each profession similarly strove for validation by means of a thoughtfully constructed canon. The result is a text which affirms the two disciplines while offering in a single volume a valuable overview of their beginnings and the origins of their respective canons of children's literature. Lundin, both scholar and librarian, is uniquely positioned to bridge these two fields and serve as interpreter of their parallel histories. With enthusiasm and admiration for the pioneers in children's librarianship and children's literature studies, Lundin traces their efforts to establish lists of "Best Books" and describes the debt each field owes the other, albeit most unknowingly. She concludes her slim history with an exploration [End Page 147] of the role readers play in creating official canons as well as their own personal paracanons. As Romanticism bloomed in late nineteenth-century America, children's librarians established tentative roots in the newly created field of professional librarianship. With a number of powerfully motivated women brimming with near missionary zeal for bringing the right book to the right child at the right time, children's librarians were unique among their colleagues: they were more than simple caretakers, collecting materials for their users; they assumed the role of "a self-determined cultural authority within the garden walls of children's literature" (2). Matriarchs such as Caroline Hewins and Anne Carroll Moore worked with editors, authors, and publishers such as Horace Scudder, Mary Mapes Dodge, Bertha Mahony Miller, Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch, Walter de la Mare, Paul Hazard, and others as advocates for children's literature at all its stages, from writing to editing to publishing to ultimately placing it in the hands of readers. From the beginning, selection guides, suggested gift book lists, and reviews formed the fruit of early librarians' efforts, delineating the literature's initial canon. Through her chapter "Best Books: The Librarian," Lundin introduces her scholarly colleagues to the formative influences in this golden age of children's literature. Extensively researched, this section offers an accessible history for non-librarians while providing those in the field with a comprehensive overview of the crucial role their predecessors played in establishing both the profession and the literature they cultivated. In particular, the passages on Anne Carroll Moore and her efforts in conjunction with other advocates present a concise yet clear picture of this legendary figure, valuable to students and scholars of both children's librarianship and children's literature studies. Given this strong beginning as founders and critics of children's literature, how is it that children's librarians ceded the field to scholars? Lundin outlines this transfer in "Best Books: The Scholar." Concurring with historian Anne MacLeod, Lundin posits that children's librarians remained in their carefully cultivated, idealized, walled garden of narrowly defined quality literature, unable to assimilate the growing shifts in literature and culture (54–55). As the relevance of their canon lessened in the mid-twentieth century, librarians began to lose authority over its construction, an authority scholars assumed as they made tentative steps toward establishing the study of children's literature as a serious scholarly pursuit. Much like children's librarians, early children's literature scholars found themselves a poor relation at their profession's banquet. Unaware [End Page 148] of (or perhaps unwilling to acknowledge, Lundin suggests...

Nineteenth-Century Children's Satire and the Ambivalent Reader Alan Richardson (bio) Satire is initially hard to place in the history of children's literature because little or no place has been made for it. Most accounts of the development of British children's literature from its emergence in the middle of the eighteenth century to its "golden age" in the Victorian period describe a happy shift from primarily didactic works to primarily imaginative ones: from reason to fantasy, from instruction to delight, from the moral tale to the fairy tale. According to this frankly progressive model (most recently articulated by Geoffrey Summerfield in his study Fantasy and Reason), children's literature had to be liberated from its early dominance by rationalists and Christian moralists, in order for the wiser age of Victorian fantasy, with its "more open imagination" (Pickering 4), to blossom from the fairy tale revival of the earlier nineteenth century. I have argued elsewhere that this model does not adequately reflect the extent to which fairy tales were (to borrow Jack Zipes's term) "bourgeoisified" (29) in order to become accepted as reading fit for children, a process through which the distinction between didactic and fantastic often breaks down, as in the moral or moralized fairy tale characteristic of the period (Richardson). But this model also obscures—or keeps from becoming articulated—certain latent assumptions underlying both didactic and much fantastic children's literature as well, assumptions rooted in the fundamentally new conception of childhood which emerged along with (and helped make possible) the children's publishing industry. It is in analyzing the resistance not to children's fairy tales but to children's satire, a resistance left out of histories of children's literature, that our own cultural assumptions regarding children and their books—which we inherit from eighteenth-century moralists and nineteenth-century fantasists alike—can be called into question. Both the moral tale and the children's fairy tale, for example, share an underlying assumption that the child reader is not to make independent moral evaluations. In the moral tale, a child protagonist may be required to make a moral judgment, but it is always made clear to the child reader (usually through a [End Page 122] controlling parental figure) which course of action is the correct one. And even when the child is not explicitly instructed in the morality of its age and class, the fiction can be seen as taking place in a fundamentally amoral fictional world. That is, in the cases in which literary fairy tales for children do not simply (like more frankly didactic literature) reflect the social morality of the day—as Wilhelm Grimm assured readers of the revised Kinder- und Hausmärchen they would (Tatar 217)—they can be seen as essentially irrelevant to discussions of social morality altogether. This is the brunt of Coleridge's famous response to the complaint of Anna Barbauld (a relatively enlightened didactic writer for children herself) that the Rime of the Ancient Mariner "had no moral": "It ought to have had no more moral than the Arabian Night's tale of the merchant's sitting down to eat dates by the side of a well, and throwing the shells aside, and lo! a genie starts up, and says he must kill the aforesaid merchant because one of the dates had, it seems, put out the eye of the genie's son" (405). Whether, like Nicholas Tucker, we view the world of fairy tales as a "morally-charged universe" (76) or, like Coleridge, as a morally empty space where questions of value become meaningless, the fairy tale exacts no more complicated an ethical response from the child reader than does the moral tale. Satire, on the other hand, as the "literary genre most implicated in historical and social particulars" (Howes 217), deals almost by definition with the revaluation of social values, and children's satire, unlike children's fantasy, found no early defenders among the Romantics or elsewhere. In fact, advocates of imaginative literature for children could make common ground with didactic writers in attacking satirical works intended for or made available to children. The tacit notion that children should remain morally naive...

Lust for Reading and Thirst for Knowledge:Fictive Letters in a Danish Children's Magazine of 1770 Nina Christensen (bio) In the eighteenth century, when it gradually became more common to publish texts for children, writers were faced with fundamental questions: Who is the implied child reader? What characterizes the children you write for? How and what do you write for this new audience? So far, the answer in a Danish context has been that authors wrote for children in order to educate them, and that these children were thought of as imperfect creatures, inferior to adults. Very recently a doctoral thesis by Beth Juncker described the history of Danish children's literature as a development from a didactic and content-based tradition, with roots in the Enlightenment, toward a literary and form-based tradition rooted in Romanticism (Juncker 2006). Among others, Juncker refers to texts by Hans Christian Andersen, which have a poetic language rich with metaphors and texts by others that have an elaborate and "complex" narrative structure (Juncker 278). Juncker reinforces descriptions of eighteenth-century children's literature proposed by Danish children's literature historians such as Inger Simonsen (1944) and Vibeke Stybe (1970). This article suggests a revision of this relatively fixed image of children and of children's literature in relation to Danish children's literature of the second half of the eighteenth century. The object of study is a series of fictional letters written by child characters in The Friend of Youth (Ungdommens Ven), a weekly periodical published for children in 1770. The editor of The Friend of Youth reveals his views on the nature of childhood by demonstrating how he thinks children write and how they should write. He publishes letters he claims to have received from his readers, which he discusses at length. In order to highlight an important and new genre in children's literature during the eighteenth century, this article will analyze these letters and the editor's comments and replies. [End Page 189] Definitions of Children's Literature The education/amusement divide is famously described on the first page of F. J. Darton's history of children's literature: By "children's books" I mean printed works produced ostensibly to give children spontaneous pleasure, and not primarily to teach them, nor solely to make them good, nor to keep them profitably quiet. I shall therefore exclude from this history, as a general rule, all schoolbooks, all purely moral or didactic treatises, all reflective or adult minded descriptions of child-life, and almost all alphabets, primers, and spelling books. (Darton 1) Darton does not explain how he decides whether or not a writer or a publisher intends to give children pleasure or to educate them. Prefaces to publications for children in late eighteenth-century Denmark often explicitly show an intention to combine education and amusement. German research in children's literature has long presented an alternative to the education/entertainment divide. In 1982, the Handbuch zur Kinder- und Jugendliteratur. Von 1750 bis 1800 edited by Theodor Brüggemann and Hans-Heino Ewers was published. It contains an annotated bibliographic listing of a majority of early German children's literature, including long descriptions of single works and a lengthy and thorough introduction to children's literature of the period. In the introduction it is argued that definitions of children's literature must take into account the context and historical period in which the literature was produced. The editors suggest using the descriptive term intentional children's literature as a starting point. From their perspective, children's literature in the period 1750–1800 is to be understood as "texts explicitly directed at children" including "adult literature adapted for children" and finally "texts made by children themselves" if they are addressed to children (Brüggemann 4).1 Whether it was the authors', translators', or editors' intention to address children is often explicitly revealed in the title, subtitle, or pre- or postscripts to the books. The editors also draw attention to the importance of differentiating between the use of "text" and "literature" in relation to eighteenth-century works published for children. They point to the fact that not until the last third of the...

ASECS at 50:Interview with Pierre Saint-Amand Adam Schoene (bio) and Pierre Saint-Amand Pierre Saint-Amand is Benjamin F. Barge Professor of French at Yale University. He received a B.A. from the Université de Montréal, and M.A. and Ph.D. degrees in French from Johns Hopkins University. After completing his Ph.D., he spent a year at Yale, several at Stanford University, and the next three decades at Brown University, where he was Francis Wayland Professor of French and Comparative Literature and Chair of the Department of French Studies, before returning to Yale in 2016. He has also held visiting appointments at Harvard University, the University of Iowa, and on the faculty of the Institute of French Cultural Studies at Dartmouth College. Saint-Amand has research interests in the literature of the eighteenth century, the philosophy of the Enlightenment, the French Revolution, and literary criticism and theory. He is author of Diderot: Le Labyrinthe de la relation (1984); Séduire ou la passion des Lumières (1987) (The Libertine's Progress: Seduction in the Eighteenth-Century French Novel, 1994); Les lois de l'hostilité: La politique à l'âge des Lumières (1992) (The Laws of Hostility: Politics, Violence, and the Enlightenment, 1996); and Paresse des Lumières (2014) (The Pursuit of Laziness: An Idle Interpretation of the Enlightenment, 2011). He has edited two eighteenth-century erotic novels, Thérèse philosophe (2000) and Confession d'une jeune fille (2005). Saint-Amand's work has appeared widely in journals such as Critique, Diderot Studies, Dix-huitième siècle, Eighteenth-Century Fiction, Eighteenth-Century Life, Eighteenth-Century Studies, L'Esprit Créateur, MLN, Modern Language Studies, Romanic Review, Stanford French Review, Studies on Voltaire and the Eighteenth-Century, and Yale French Studies. He is the recipient of fellowships from the Stanford Humanities Center and the John Simon Guggenheim Memorial Foundation, was named the Walter H. Annenberg Professor of the Year, [End Page 563] and was inducted Chevalier dans l'Ordre des Palmes Académiques by the government of France. He has served on the editorial board of Stanford French Review and on committees of the Modern Language Association and ASECS. Adam Schoene: You began your academic pathway as a youth in Haiti, journeyed to Canada to study at the Université de Montréal, then moved to the United States for graduate school at Johns Hopkins University. What were some of the formative moments for you in this international scholarly trajectory, and how did these experiences lead you to eighteenth-century studies? Pierre Saint-Amand: This international trajectory you just recalled confirmed my interest in the study of the eighteenth century. It was in Montreal that I was first exposed to the period via professors who later became my mentors (I think especially of Christie McDonald). When I started studying literature there, I was first interested in the modern period. But I quickly settled in the eighteenth century with a strong desire to become a true specialist. I immersed myself thoroughly in the books of the period, reading largely across genres and domains, literary and philosophical texts. I am grateful for the education I received in Montreal. It was an exciting milieu that prepared me well for graduate studies at Johns Hopkins. I studied in all the periods: early and modern, and benefited from the teaching of a charismatic and contagious philosopher, Pierre Granel, an ebullient specialist of Greek tragedy and of Sophocles, more specifically. The transition to the United States was therefore easy, because I did not really change academic culture; the passage to Hopkins only prolonged and developed what I had started to learn in Canada. I also owe a lot to my professors at Johns Hopkins: René Girard, Michel Serres, Louis Marin. Their seminars became a means to buttress my knowledge of theory. In many ways, the teaching at Hopkins cleared the passage between theory and literature for me, allowing greater focus in what I thought was an original way to approach the Enlightenment, at the time. After being dominated by deconstruction, Hopkins was changing and gesturing toward different models of French theory, I would say alternative paradigms. They included a dissident form of...

Families, like schools - and for many of the same reasons - have been a constant presence in children's literature, but the way they have been represented has changed considerably over time in line with shifts in cultural needs and expectations about both families and children. The following discussion traces these changes by examining the way the nuclear family is introduced in early children's fiction, consolidated and repositioned during the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, falls into disrepute in the mid to late twentieth century, and is tested for obsolescence at the start of the new millennium. Meet the family: families and children in early children's literature Other contributors to this volume discuss parent-child relationships before the eighteenth century, providing glimpses of the way families were organised in the pre-modern period. In Centuries of Childhood (1960), the French historian Philippe Aries describes this as a movement from the communal model, in which the 'family' incorporated networks of dependants who were not always linked by blood, which prevailed from the Middle Ages to the end of the seventeenth century, to the small, intimate nuclear family familiar today.

Reviewed by: 4E Cognition and Eighteenth-Century Fiction: How the Novel Found Its Feet by Karin Kukkonen Jun Feng Karin Kukkonen, 4E Cognition and Eighteenth-Century Fiction: How the Novel Found Its Feet (New York: Oxford Univ. Press, 2019). Pp. 272; 3 halftones. $105.00 cloth. The eighteenth century is a key period in the evolution of the modern European novel, during which it established itself and worked out its key stylistic and narrative traits. In 4E Cognition and Eighteenth-Century Fiction, Karin Kukkonen approaches the question of "how the novel found its feet" in the eighteenth century from the 4E perspective—that is, approaches to cognitive processes that understand them not as purely mental but also as embodied, embedded, extended, and enacted: Thought and feeling are both integral in this account, and profoundly embodied in physical states, movements, gestures, etc. Such cognition is also embedded in social and material contexts. Some proponents even argue that the human mind is extended into the material environment, for example, when we read or write. Indeed, others go further still and suggest that our very perception is enactive and depends on our bodies' movement in a particular environment.2 The book, a judicious exploration into the literary style and narrative strategies of the eighteenth-century novel, offers case studies of four eighteenth-century novelists—Eliza Haywood, Charlotte Lennox, Sarah Fielding, and Frances Burney. The punning subtitle hints at the author's central argument that the novel "found its feet" by "finding its bodies" (2): that is, that eighteenth-century novels developed a new way to configure the embodied dimension of written language, an innovation that engaged readers' minds and bodies and made the novel a prominent cultural technology. Kukkonen considers the perception of eighteenth-century novels as a kind of preparation for the nineteenth-century novel of realism, a view that defines, and values the eighteenth-century novel in relation to what comes after it. This phenomenon, which Kukkonen terms "the curse of realism," assured both the exclusion of eighteenth-century novelists like Eliza Haywood and Charlotte Lennox from "the rise of the novel" and the perception of their fictions as anomalies in the development of the novel form (2). Kukkonen attempts to reevaluate the eighteenth-century novel's contribution to the historical development of modern novels with assumptions from 4E cognition. The overall argument of the book is that the eighteenth-century novel developed a broad repertoire of embodied language that both shaped the practice of reading and assured the novel a place in emergent worlds of entertainment and book learning. Kukkonen notes that although some of the strategies pioneered by the four eighteenth-century novelists that she studies were taken up by the nineteenth-century writers, this adaptation of formal elements from the eighteenth century has nothing to do with realism. The book makes this argument by describing the four writers' configuration of embodied language and cognition and by presenting this configuration as a "lifeworld technology" (2). The first eighteenth-century novelist examined by Kukkonen is Eliza Haywood, whose techniques to evoke the embodied experience of her readers are the focus of Chapter 2. Kukkonen argues that embodied engagement in Haywood's [End Page 128] works does not depend on simple simulation but rather on Haywood's precise management of embodied language and joint attention. The chapter makes use of Michael Tomasello's model of shared intentionality in human communication as it tracks Haywood's strategic use of embodied language, integrating internal, external, and culturally modeled dimensions of embodiment. Kukkonen's attention to Haywood's strategic use of embodied language also includes attention to Epistles for the Ladies (1749–1750), the narrative strategies of which track the mediation of embodied engagement through letters, embedded narratives, and theatrical scenes. In Chapter 3, devoted to Charlotte Lennox, Kukkonen finds a source for Lennox's establishment of diverse repertoires of embodiment in her novels and translations from the French in the language of embodiment developed by Haywood and others. The chapter presents Lennox's immersive mode of narration as a means of combining external and internal perceptions of bodily states, a mode specific to Lennox. Lennox's repertoires of embodiment undergird her development of...