Transatlantic Insurrections: British Culture and Formation of American Literature, 1730-1860. By Paul Giles. (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2001. Pp. 262. Cloth, $55.00; paper, $19.95.) At precisely time when theories of romantic irony were being developed, writes Paul Giles, was coming to appear to Europe as a kind of cracked or crazy mirror, wherein Old World witnessed strangely distorted representations of itself (149). The author is playing off transatlantic wanderings and prose of Washington Irving as he commits these thoughts, but statement extends to overall theme of Transatlantic Insurrections: boundaries of literary geography need to be redrawn, and what is traditionally seen as a republican, or romantic, or consciousness can always stand to be reevaluated. America and Great Britain unsettled each other for a century at least, beginning well before Revolution, as prominent writers on both sides of Atlantic reveal. Alexander Pope is, in this sense, prototype; he embraces contraries instead of dividing moral simply into light and dark, good and evil. Benjamin Franklin and Thomas Jefferson enjoyed Pope's writing; marginalized and misunderstood Massachusetts Loyalist Mather Byles perhaps could not have pursued disjunction between Puritan cosmology and Enlightenment rationalism in his punning and poetry without Pope; in their attempts at an American epic poem, Philip Freneau and Joel Barlow could not resist Pope's verbal inversions and antagonistic literary style. Pope was uncredited progenitor, then, of a fractured and fractious world view, appreciated by Jefferson in his reading of Laurence Sterne, and subsequently, tantalizingly, twisted by many others. If this sounds like a language foreign to most historians of early republic, it is. But if Giles, like most literary critics, does not clarify history empirically, he possesses an original intellectual style of argot that provokes a reconsideration of any consensus historical profession might arrive at with respect to such variable terms as orthodoxy or reactionary or democracy. Historians who settle too easily on divisions between Federalist and Republican ideologies are ignoring iconoclasm and comic sensibility that flew beneath radar of pamphlets and newspapers. The very real, deeply-felt instability in early American political culture suggests that a detour in reading existing record may be in order. Giles dissects John Trumbull's subversive M'Fingal for its chaos and carnival. Yet Trumbull is one of Connecticut Wits, literary acolytes of sober High Federalism. Here is a perfect example of inheritors of Pope, who see what isn't there: in the rule of topsyturvys (57), all abide by a government that is anarchy, where neither loyalist nor patriot can find a firm place to stand. Behind politeness and gentility of Federalist diatribe lies a ferocious spirit of mockery. Though Giles does not exactly say so, inversions spirit of frenzied world created by Charles Brockden Brown fit neatly here. The morbid gothic of late 1790s that seems to come on so suddenly amid pedagogical calls for social order on one hand and Sternean fellow feeling on other, in fact has a rich heritage. Even Samuel Richardson, erstwhile father of pervasive, moralistic, sentimental novel, is in Giles's persuasive analysis inventor of a chameleonic universe where antithetical commingle. …
Read full abstract