Richardson's Work Research Articles

The New Realism of Literary Generalization in Richardson's Clarissa

Abstract: Since the eighteenth century, writers have positioned maxims—pithy statements of general truth—as antithetical to realist fiction. According to these accounts, a work is "realist" if it produces in a reader an internal sense of it being true to reality. General and common maxims are, by contrast, unreal because they "leave no impression on the mind." Working alongside and against these accounts of the maxim-realism antithesis, this essay uncovers an alternative realism advanced through literary generalization in Samuel Richardson's Clarissa . "Literary generalization" is an umbrella term I use for a number of related forms that run through Richardson's work: newly formulated maxims; the literary fragments comprising the tenth "mad paper"; and literary quotations from "real" works that fictional characters use to predict effects within the fictional world. I argue that this realism of literary generalization involves the reader in the composition of a common world composed of unpredictable associations. This world is composed of human and nonhuman entities, defined by shifting inequities, and is unredeemable through an individual's cultivation of meaning within. This is a very different realism than the still influential formal realism of the early novel that Ian Watt introduced many decades ago. Although the alternative realism I find in Clarissa is not "new," I mark it as such to signal the essay's engagement with several versions of what has been called the "new materialism."

Finding Infinite Imagination within the Clay Man: Merlin and Reuben in William Blake's Jerusalem

ABSTRACT Merlin and Reuben are two minor characters in William Blake's Jerusalem: The Emanation of the Giant Albion (1804-c. 1820) upon which little has been written. Merlin represents the immortal imagination, reiterating the Welsh wizard of Arthurian mythology as a Romantic figure. Reuben, eldest son of Jacob and Leah from the Book of Genesis, is to Blake the clay man, the human as matter, imbibed with instinct and urge yet lacking higher cognitive capacity. Taking these two characters of Blake's as a Romantic conceptualisation of limited embodied imagination, I ask the question: How do Merlin and Reuben contribute to Blake's concept of embodiment? The aim is to clarify this mythopoetic instance of Romantic embodiment and then to examine its contemporary relevance by considering Richard C. Sha's and Alan Richardson's recent work on physiology and the Romantic imagination. The implications of Blake's concept of embodied imagination will be discussed in this context.

Who cares about the stream of consciousness? On Dorothy Richardson's Pilgrimage

AbstractThis article brings the concept of care into the discussion of the literary representation of the stream of consciousness in Dorothy Richardson's thirteen‐volume novel sequence Pilgrimage. I begin by looking at recent theorizations of care by Joan C. Tronto and Berenice Fisher, by Maria Puig de la Bellacasa, and by Sandra Laugier. I show confluences between this work and May Sinclair's famous essay on Richardson—in which the term “stream of consciousness” was first applied to a literary text. I then explore three interrelated forms of care that are central to Richardson's work. Subsequently, I isolate a particular strand in Pilgrimage in which Richardson's protagonist, Miriam Henderson, consistently conceives of her own consciousness in terms of care. I reflect in conclusion on the broader ramifications that care might have for considerations of the stream of consciousness in relation to the modernist novel.

The Giver of Stars by Jojo Moyes, and: The Book Woman of Troublesome Creek by Kim Michele Richardson

Reviewed by: The Giver of Stars by Jojo Moyes, and: The Book Woman of Troublesome Creek by Kim Michele Richardson Donna M. Crow (bio) Jojo Moyes. The Giver of Stars New York, N.Y.: Pamela Dorman Books, 2019. 400 pages. Hardcover. $28.00. Kim Michele Richardson. The Book Woman of Troublesome Creek. Naperville, Ill.: Sourcebooks 2019. 320 pages. Hardcover. $25.99. Jojo Moyes. The Giver of Stars New York, N.Y.: Pamela Dorman Books, 2019. 400 pages. Hardcover. $28.00. Kim Michele Richardson. The Book Woman of Troublesome Creek. Naperville, Ill.: Sourcebooks 2019. 320 pages. Hardcover. $25.99. The Pack Horse Library Project was a Works Progress Administration program that paid (mostly) women with no other means of support $28.00 per month to deliver books to remote areas in the Appalachian Mountains between 1935 [End Page 110] and 1943. Riding horseback (or mule) these women delivered more than books. They brought hope, human contact, education, and mental escape. Buried in history, relatively little has been written about them. In 2017 Smithsonian Magazine highlighted the horse-riding librarians as the Depression Era's first mobile library. In 2018, NPR's Morning Edition produced an episode entitled "The Pack Horse Librarians of Eastern Kentucky." And in 2019, two new Kentucky-based novels were published: The Book Woman of Troublesome Creek by Kim Michele Richardson, released in May; and The Giver of Stars by Jojo Moyes, published in October. Finally, the literary world seems to be catching up. Richardson's The Book Woman of Troublesome Creek is told first-person through the eyes and voice of nineteen-year-old Cussy Mary Carter. Nicknamed "Bluet" for her cerulean skin, she is one of the rare "blue people of Kentucky" carrying a genetic trait for methemoglobinemia. Townsfolk, even Cussy's fellow librarians, see her as the "other", sanctioning a thread of racism that drives the storyline. Pushed deep into the mountains to avoid prejudice, Cussy uses isolation to learn self-sufficiency. Her vernacular is thick and betrays her intelligence, allowing her cleverness to be overlooked in favor of condescension and judgment. Cussy's burdens are loaded from the beginning, with a concerned father whose misaligned attitudes on gender force her into an arranged marriage to an insensitive opportunist many years her senior. She is used, traumatized, and [End Page 111] impregnated by her husband and then accosted by his cousin, a self-proclaimed preacher, who justifies his own evil behavior via the misguided religious notion that her skin color makes her a sinner. Cussy's inner spark and desire for independence, her care and attention to her patrons on the library route, the unlikely friendships she forges, keep us rooting for her as she drudges forward and overcomes obstacles. Written in close third-person, Moyes's The Giver of Stars weaves in a braided narrative the voices of several women who become a team of librarians, relying on one another for support. Two main characters, Margery and Alice, an unlikely pair, drive the plot as they forge a bond against all odds. Margery is a self-made hardscrabble native whose deceased father was a bootlegger and outlaw which is enough to brand her a scorned woman. With that distinction, she seems freer than most to do what she likes, albeit discreetly. Alice, a demure English woman, is new to America, having married the son of a rich coal baron. Her expectations of luxury and freedom are dashed after he moves her to a small rural community near the mines where she finds just as many, if not more, limitations. Through the individual and collective relationships of the team of librarians, readers experience a force of woman power and the truth that it really does take a village. Unfortunately, once Moyes's novel was set to be released, rumors began to flow that portions of her story may have been "borrowed" from Richardson's work. This suspicion, reported by Buzzfeed, was alleged by an advanced reader/blogger who'd [End Page 112] previewed Moyes's book in April, then alerted Richardson—before either book was released. Richardson, a talented but lesser-known author, was understandably alarmed when Variety announced the bestselling British author's The...

Austrian and Post-Marshallian Economics: The Bridging Work of George Richardson

Austrian and post-Marshallian economics share a number of concerns, such as a basic subjecticist stance and an emphasis on the importance of inquiry into the disequilibrium market process. This paper details similarities and differences between these two bodies of thought, and argue that a closer liaison is possible. George Richardson's work is presented as a possible bridge, since his work incorporates both Austrian and post-Marshallian elements. The paper ends by sketching a combined Austrian and post-Marshallian approach to the firm.

How to Live, What to Do: Thirteen Ways of Looking at Wallace Stevens by Joan Richardson

Reviewed by: How to Live, What to Do: Thirteen Ways of Looking at Wallace Stevens by Joan Richardson Richard Deming How to Live, What to Do: Thirteen Ways of Looking at Wallace Stevens. By Joan Richardson. Iowa City: University of Iowa Press, 2018. More than thirty years have passed since Joan Richardson published her magisterial two-volume biography of Wallace Stevens, which has come to be foundational reading for any serious study of the poet. For a philosophically inclined writer such as Stevens, who resisted the personal and kept his private life guarded even from his closest of friends, a biography might seem beside the point, and yet Richardson's work remains replete with so many generative insights that it continues to deepen our collective understanding of Stevens and the intellectual context of his literary practice. The strength of Richardson's biography lies in the fact that within the frame of her scholarship the events and details of Stevens's life do not simply offer solutions for spotting and decoding tricky private allusions or providing historical explanations to thorny and contentious aesthetic claims made within the texts, but rather they provide a fecund context for tracking Stevens's own thinking about poetry as manifesting a relationship to a whole wide world that ever exceeds our ken. Richardson has always taken seriously the sense that the stuff of Stevens's life was, after all, a "radiant and productive atmosphere" for his thinking, for his art (CPP 678). One sometimes wonders in the lapse of time after a biography appears—especially an extensive, even definitive critical biography—how the biographer's sense of the subject might continue to evolve and develop. It is then fascinating to see Richardson return once more to a sustained engagement with Stevens because, after all this time, she is not the same reader as she was in the 1980s, having produced admirable monographs on natural history, science, and American philosophy in Pragmatism and American Experience (Cambridge UP, 2014) and A Natural History of Pragmatism (Cambridge UP, 2007). Indeed, Richardson brings this whole range of intellectual histories and diverse methodologies to bear on her newest book, How to Live, What to Do: Thirteen Ways of Looking at Wallace Stevens. Characteristically erudite and probing, Richardson offers a searching set of thirteen meditations or "transcendental etudes" that bring to light a constellation of sympathetically resonant yet disparate elements—from quantum physics to prayer, from cognitive science to photography—all provoked, that is to say, "called forth," by Stevens's poems and his Adagia. In order to read Stevens in ways that expand and enlarge the possibilities of a critical imagination, Richardson follows threads and pursues intuitions rather than narrowing to a single thesis. In short, the more frames of reference one brings to Stevens's poems and his prose, Richardson seems to argue, the more particles and particulars of potential meaning one finds there. The title How to Live, What to Do may borrow from Stevens's poem, but we see quickly that the stakes are in earnest, for Richardson employs the allusion [End Page 268] in order to situate the moral value of Stevens's "August Imagination" (CPP 471). Poetry, we might say, is a way of learning to live within language. Richardson twice cites Harold Bloom's recent insistence in The Daemon Knows: Literary Greatness and the American Sublime that "Stevens has helped me to live my life" (402), a claim with which she clearly identifies. In fact, Richardson's approach to the poems could be described as Midrashic, especially in light of her contention, "Reading [Stevens's] poems, we learn the same habit of close attention, intense concentration, demanded by prayer; his body of work a breviary, a primer in practicing a 'constant sacrament of praise' for mere being" (18–19). Lest this be seen as primarily a theological argument, Richardson also asks, "What is or how is it to be in spacetime, knowing that we are simultaneously suspended in, bombarded by, and penetrated through by fields of energy we can never see or feel?" (26). Stevens's aesthetics, she argues, offers "a response to this monumental shift in conceptualizing our cosmic situation" that came about with...

‘Marriage had bastilled me for life’: Propertied Women as Property in the Legal Fictions of Richardson, Wollstonecraft and Collins

AbstractWhen a woman married during the eighteenth century, according to Blackstone's Commentaries on the Laws of England (1765–69), her autonomous identity was removed, and she was immediately classed as one with her husband. This consolidation into the husband's own identity means that she is automatically classed as his property, as to incorporate and consolidate implies a taking over of ownership of the item being transferred – and thus, of course, a complete lack of self‐governance over mind, body and actions on behalf of the woman. This leads to the perception that the woman has been transformed from a human into a mere thing, while still retaining human function. It is this mid‐existence of the eighteenth and nineteenth century woman and her entrapment somewhere between human and thing that raises a key question. Is it possible for such a legal phenomenon to own property (thus, another thing) itself without repercussions – essentially, if the propertied woman was herself property? This ‘work in progress’ paper examines the extent to which this may be true, and if so, how it affected her identity as an independent human being in a patriarchal legal system over a specific time period by studying several themes of what are arguably legal fictions. The gendered inheritance of Samuel Richardson's work and the obstacles this incurs due to the female's lack of legal recognition in the eighteenth century are referred to, and explorations are made into the questions about inheritance, identity and what constitutes as property raised by the French Revolution of the 1790s, and the representations of this in Gothic and revolutionary literature, specifically Wollstonecraft's Maria (). Moreover, I consider the effects of the Gothic upon the development of sensation fiction, positing the latter as a direct descendant rather than subscribing to the notion of them being related but rigidly disparate, with sensation fiction suddenly emerging in the mid‐nineteenth century (Hughes ; Thomas ; Herbert ). Within these two genres, the entity of the married woman is well‐established but, I argue, warrants further examination of its representations of the legal entity of woman in her occupation of the domestic sphere as a wife and the social sphere as a single, propertied, legally existing woman in Wilkie Collins's The Woman in White (1860‐61).

A Copperhead in Quincy Goes to Washington: Senator William A. Richardson

STALWART ILLINOIS DEMOCRAT WILLIAM A. RICHARDSON was no stranger to political maneuvering during a military engagement. Writing from the war front in Mexico, 1847, Richardson described how a neighboring American squadron had all of their horses stolen by Mexican soldiers. He then abruptly changed the subject discussed the need to arrange a meeting to appoint delegates, get your friends to work, Richardson advised, and all will be well.1 His station in this war was fundamentally different than the situation he would face thirteen years later. Richardson his fellow Democrats had a choice to make when Lincoln issued his Proclamation of War: Would they stand united with the administration to quash the rebellion, continue the partisan struggle, or even utilize the chaos of war to gain political leverage?The winners of the political debates surrounding the Civil War are well documented. Lincoln, the Radical Republicans, even pro-war Democrats receive a great deal of historical attention. This article will investigate those who opposed the war openly challenged the Lincoln administration. These Peace Democrats, or Copperheads, operated throughout the North, including Lincolns home state. William A. Richardson (Image 1) was a leading figure of the Democratic Party in Illinois. He was a political servant to Stephen A. Douglas during Douglass lifetime as well as a proponent Douglass political philosophy. But while Douglas was supportive of Lincoln at the onset of the war, Richardson gradually evolved an opposite stance. He personally attacked Lincoln in public speeches worked with fellow Illinois Democrats to challenge federal laws. His role in national local politics will be the primary concern of this article. Through an examination of Richardson within the larger milieu of Copperheadism, a clearer picture of both Richardsons politics as well as the nature of the peace movement will be discerned. Since the 1960s, the leading Copperhead historian was Frank Klement. Klement's research supported the idea that the Republicans, out of political malignancy, exaggerated the danger of Peace Democrats for politcal advantage.2 More recent interpretations, however, have highlighted the menacing disruption the group caused. The Copperheads, under this lens, nearly commandeered the Democratic Party endangered the outcome of the war.3Like many other Peace Democrats, William Richardson has received scant attention from historians. Jerome Thavenet's 1967 thesis took a redeeming, slightly hagiographical, view of Richardsons political career.4 A few Illinois journal articles delve into facets of his life; Robert Holt's 1933 political biography of Richardson compared him to his mentor, Douglas, emphasizes lost opportunities Richardson had in making his mark on the national stage.5 Robert Howard's article focused on Richardson's work prior to the war, but also stressed Richardson's failures as a statesman.6 In more broad treatments of the Peace Movement, Richardson is often overlooked in favor of more flamboyant Copperheads, such as Clement Vallandigham. When Richardson is mentioned, he is often mischaracterized or quickly glanced over. The purpose of this article, then, is to situate Richardson within the context of the larger Peace Movement, noting confluences divergences in their trajectories to illuminate a more accurate characterization of Richardson, his role in national politics, the Peace Movement in Illinois. An analysis of Richardson's career illustrates that he was an influential figure in a powerful opposition movement that nearly succeeded in challenging state laws drafted to expedite the war effort in Illinois. Richardson, however, was not conspiratorial or traitorous. The Civil War presented questions problems the nation had not yet faced Richardson looked backwards instead of forwards to answer those problems. He was a romantic conservative who never fully grasped the gravity of the Civil War. …

Quantum simulation of thermionic emission from diamond films

Recent advances in wide-band gap thermionic materials have brought to question the applicability of well accepted theories for thermionic emission from metallic surfaces. The authors developed a nonequilibrium Green's function (NEGF) self-consistent model based on quantum mechanics to investigate thermionic emission from nitrogen-incorporated diamond cathodes. The model allows us to relax several assumptions typical of Richardson's equation. The NEGF method is a self-consistent Schrödinger–Poisson formalism where the transport is calculated from an effective mass description and Fermi-Dirac statistics. The predictions were validated against experimental measurements from nitrogen-incorporated diamond cathodes. The model captures key emission characteristics such as the onset temperature of emission and the emission from low or negative electron-affinity materials. The results indicate that Richardson's equation overestimates emission for many cases, especially in low electron affinity materials. In addition, the model allowed them to estimate the heat flux at the cathode using the spectral emission as opposed to the mean velocity approximation, which under-predicts the cooling potential. Finally, they developed a relation between Richardson's constant, work function, and electron affinity to aid in identifying a range of Richardson's parameters applicable to experimental characterization of materials.

Stream and Destination: Husserl, Subjectivity, and Dorothy Richardson’s Pilgrimage

About fifty years ago, Shiv Kumar and Shirley Rose engaged in arcalie and seemingly inconsequential debate over whether Dorothy Richardson's flowing narrative style could be described in terms of Henri Bergson's notion of flux--life evolv[ing] before our eyes as continuous creation of unforeseeable form (Bergson, Creative 30).(1) Examining mental processes of Richardson's protagonist Miriam Henderson, Kumar was struck by the indeterminate and primordial flow of her stream of sensory impressions (495). He argued in 1959 that Pilgrimage was faithful rendering in fluid medium of Bergsonian concept of becoming (499).A decade later, Rose countered that whereas Bergson asserts fluidity and alteration of apprehensible reality, Dorothy Richardson argues for its and changelessness (371), citing Richardson's own rejection of stream-of-consciousness metaphor (she called it a muddle-headed phrase [qtd. in Rose 370], one isolated by its perfect imbecility [367]), as well as Richardson's declaration that while life did seem to exhibit a sort of streamline, itself sits stiller than tree (368).(2) I would argue that this exchange rests on false opposition. Kumar and Rose imply that ever-changing movement and stable self-knowing are mutually exclusive, while Richardson's massive project (Pilgrimage consists of twelve volumes published between 1915 and 1938, as well as thirteenth, unfinished volume that appeared posthumously in 1967) elaborates they are not. But before proposing alternate reading, perhaps it is necessary to address more basic question: Why should such obscure point matter? As Martha Nussbaum points out, formal characteristics of texts are bound up with their authors' conceptions of how human beings should live (144); literature cannot help but be philosophical. And Richardson's work expressly situates itself in reference to multiple philosophical influences--including, as Deborah Parsons Longworth has demonstrated, William Stanley Jevons's logical empiricism, Herbert Spencer's evolutionism, John McTaggart's idealism, and Ralph Waldo Emerson's transcendentalism. Thus, it is hardly surprising that critics tend to read Pilgrimage through lens of philosophy. Jean Radford has proposed that Richardson's investigation of subjectivity and signification make her precursor to Kristeva, Irigaray and Cixous (Dorothy 109-15), and more recently has invoked Edmund Husserl's description of intentionality of to argue that Pilgrimage's analysis of subjectivity is not egoic, but rather an extended exercise in impersonal method (Impersonality 88). Longworth contends that Miriam's Emerson-inspired intuitive-empirical vision of reality demonstrates lived resolution of Idealist/New Realist deadlock that gripped Britain as Bertrand Russell's New Realism challenged and gradually replaced John McTaggart's idealist metaphysics. She suggests that William James's radical empiricism, eradicating distinction between mind and matter by attending strictly to experience, provides best philosophical lens through which. to understand Richardson's work. What all these claims have in common is assumption that Pilgrimage, no less than any philosophical text, makes argument about nature of reality. I agree that Pilgrimage can and should be approached in this light, yet it seems to me that none of above readings account for richness of Miriam's both/and consciousness. Rose's focus on stability and changelessness (371) minimizes flowing features of Richardson's text. Kumar's insistence on flux disregards stable witnessing presence at heart of work. Radford's use of Husserl's intentionality to stress that Miriam's consciousness is always of something (Impersonality 90) similarly overlooks Miriam's awareness of pure presence apart from contents of her consciousness. …

Auditory Narrative in the Modernist Novel: Prosody, Music, and the Subversion of Vision in Dorothy Richardson'sPilgrimage

This article interrogates the auditory narrative of Dorothy Richardson's multivolume work, Pilgrimage. By drawing on her film column in Close Up, where she champions the silent film with musical accompaniment over the talkie, Frattarola explicates the significance that Richardson places on music and the prosody of speech in her fiction. Often in Pilgrimage, vision and language are depicted as alienating and judgmental, while music and vocal prosody foster connectivity and intimacy. Though audition is not free of prejudice in Pilgrimage, and indeed it is integral to the subjective stream of consciousness, Richardson brings music and voice to the forefront of her narrative to subvert the dominance of vision and language, which she associates with masculinity. Ultimately, Miriam Henderson's pilgrimage to become a writer is fulfilled with her discovery of an “inner eye” that—like prosody, music, and silence—allows her to experience a multivalent way of remembering, knowing, and being.

Clarissa' s Painter: Portraiture, Illustration, and Representation in the Novels of Samuel Richardson (review)

Reviewed by: Clarissa's Painter: Portraiture, Illustration, and Representation in the Novels of Samuel Richardson Janet Aikins Yount Shepherd, Lynn . Clarissa's Painter: Portraiture, Illustration, and Representation in the Novels of Samuel Richardson. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2009. x + 271 pp. $120 cloth. Lynn Shepherd opens her book with the poetic tribute that Urania Johnson, daughter of Aaron Hill, paid to "the celebrated 'author of Clarissa.'" Its "most striking" feature, she says, is "Johnson's insistence that Richardson's texts operate upon the reader as 'Paintive Art'—as 'active Pictures' that are 'Turgid with speaking life, and thinking Woe'" (1). Shepherd builds upon this idea, offering an alternative to the accepted notion that Richardson achieved, in the words of Mark Kinkead-Weekes, "the equivalent in the novel to the experience of drama" (1-2). She argues instead that his fiction is a "manifestation of that 'broadly based surge of interest in the relationships between verbal and visual means of communication that first becomes noticeable, particularly in England, during the 1740s,'" thus joining other critics who have "revisited" the "visual elements" (2-3) of Richardsonian narrative. Shepherd argues in her first chapter that between the end of seventeenth century and the time of Jane Austen, portraiture "undergoes a tectonic shift...from aristocratic to bourgeois, from full-size to small-scale, from dynastic to domestic" (34). Among the portrait templates she lists are pre-nuptial paintings of young women, typically commissioned by fathers as vehicles for displaying their marriageable daughters, thus metaphorically reflecting patriarchal power. Paintings of married couples were either "pendant," a pair of separate portraits of husband and wife, or "promenade" portraits showing couples walking through a landscape. Shepherd also analyzes the iconography of portrait medals, explaining that viewers studied them in systematically arranged collections. Finally, the "conversation piece," she explains, is a family group portrait displaying interrelations among its members through a carefully composed visual narrative, "the icon of a new ideology of the family" (36). Shepherd thus teaches the reader how to "read" eighteenth-century portraiture so that she can refer to its templates in her analysis of Pamela (chapter 3), Clarissa (chapter 4), and Sir Charles Grandison (chapter 5). [End Page 489] She introduces her thesis by observing that Henry Fielding's novels possess a "two-dimensional quality," so that "we experience [his] scenes as 'flat,' from a single perspective" (6), as is true in the early scenes of Pamela. In Clarissa and Sir Charles Grandison, however, we experience a "rich three-dimensionality" because in these novels, as in portions of Pamela II (volumes 3 and 4 of that novel), "the representational conventions of portraiture function as a kind of spacial form in the text" (9). Shepherd attributes this change in Richardson's approach to two related episodes in his life. First, "he sat for his own portrait for the first time in 1741 or 1742." Second, "this direct experience of the practice of portraiture almost certainly coincided with Richardson's preparatory work for the lavishly illustrated sixth edition of Pamela" (9), in collaboration with his portraitist Francis Hayman and the book illustrator Hubert François Gravelot. Shepherd returns to this point in chapter 2: "Richardson's First Portrait: The Hayman Conversation Piece." Although only seven pages long, this is the linchpin in her two-part argument, linking her analysis of the history of portraiture with her discussion of Richardson's "Paintive Art." Here she enters into conversation with my own essay about the Hayman portrait of Richardson, in which, as I suggest, the author holds a volume of Pamela. My contention is that "Hayman's painting of the Richardson family 'renders visible' the processes of Hayman's own thought and creative procedures as an artist as well as the dynamic intermediality in and through which Richardson's collaboration with Hayman in illustrating the sixth edition of Pamela in 1742 shaped certain aspects of Richardson's own evolving epistolary method" (467). Shepherd seconds this idea, presenting her own full-scale argument about the development of Richardson's compositional strategies. She also illuminates Richardson's debt to other artists, notably the portraitist Joseph Highmore, who also painted illustrations of Pamela. She turns to this novel in the next...

Múltiples lectores implícitos

Este artículo reflexiona sobre el concepto de lector implícito en la ficción narrativa, con referencia especial al concepto originario de Walker Gibson y Wayne Booth, y al reciente trabajo de Brian Richardson sobre la multiplicidad de lectores implícitos. Se muestra cómo los límites difusos del concepto de lector implícito, y la tendencia del mismo a multiplicarse, son fenómenos relacionados con los diferentes usos interaccionales y hermenéuticos de los textos.

Leaving Little to the Imagination: The Mechanics of Didacticism in Two Children's Adaptations of Samuel Richardson's Novels

Leaving Little to the Imagination:The Mechanics of Didacticism in Two Children's Adaptations of Samuel Richardson's Novels Bonnie Latimer (bio) Samuel Richardson wrote of his own fiction that it was calculated to inculcate virtue, "turn[ing] young people into a course of reading different from the pomp and parade of romance-writing, and dismissing the improbable and marvelous, with which novels generally abound" (Selected Letters 41). The result would be a joint engagement of the imagination and the intellect: while enthralling the emotions, he would also foster judgment—in terms of the ability to read fiction, but more importantly, in the capacity to form desirable moral views. As he wrote to another correspondent, Lady Bradshaigh, Richardson attempted to manage his fictions "not unartful[ly]," "so as to make [readers] differ in Opinion as to the Capital Articles, and by Leading one, to espouse one, another, another, Opinion, make them all, if not Authors, Car[v]ers" (Selected Letters 296).1 Reading these two pronouncements, we can uncover a tension between Richardson's statements of didactic purpose. On the one hand, the educative ends of his work seem to necessitate coercion: he intends to "turn" young people into a different "course," leading them to "dismiss" earlier, perhaps cherished, reading pleasures. On the other, he does not wish to manhandle his readers' critical faculties; he wants also to grant imaginative agency to his audience, exciting debate such that they "carve" or independently interrogate the significant moral issues raised by his work. In this more sophisticated model of didacticism, the novel engenders extra-textual conversation, a creative space out of which a multiplicity of conclusions—or even no conclusion—may arise. Richardson's novelistic practice might be read in terms of the disjunction between these two models of didacticism. His work sparked the desired controversy, but this led him to reframe later editions of his novels to narrow [End Page 167] the range of meanings that might be drawn from the text. One need only think of the editorializing footnotes included in the third edition of Clarissa (1751). Equally, the third edition of The History of Sir Charles Grandison (1754) incorporated an "Index Historical and Characteristical," which provides morally pointed recapitulations of the novel's characters and sentiments. Richardson's insertions try to turn carving readers into obedient ones, shutting down the imagination of moral interpretations beyond what the editorial framework suggests. The problems of engaging the imagination in the didactic process did not occur to Richardson only: an issue raised in contemporary criticism of his work is that in offering fictional scenarios susceptible to polyvalent interpretations, his novels lay themselves open to undesirable readings, far from their educative intent. The author of Pamela Censured (1741) sardonically represented the dangers of putting Pamela (1740) into the hands of impressionable young people, who might be more interested in its sexual voyeurism than in its worthy morals. Equally, A Candid Examination of . . . Sir Charles Grandison (1755) found similar faults: "so rich is his Imagination, that he cannot help being perhaps too lively and particular in some Scenes . . . We can hardly avoid being fired with the warm Description" (Candid Examination 24–25). In this reading, Richardson's invention tips over into luxuriance, opening up the possibility of an imaginative engagement more masturbatory than moral. Despite these reservations, however, Richardson's work retained immense cultural authority—not least as an educational tool for children. Abbreviated and illustrated versions and adaptations became standard fare in the late-century nursery.2 John Entick's New Spelling Dictionary included Pamela and Grandison as the culminating items in a list of works that included those of Shakespeare, Boyle, Milton, Locke, Pope, Swift, and Addison (Entick vi). But the issue of their potential to spark subversive readings remained to be grappled with by Richardson's adaptors. The problem of how to afford the moral lesson while not encouraging inappropriate deductions is one that structures many of these later redactions and continuations—and the solutions employed by their authors shed light, I contend, on the didactic practices of mid- and late eighteenth-century children's writing. In this essay, I suggest that a central problem of didactic children's literature from...

Foreword to the Special Issue on Computational Heat Transfer

Foreword to the Special Issue on Computational Heat Transfer

Discussion of “Analysis of a Large Database of GCL Internal Shear Strength Results” by Jorge G. Zornberg, John S. McCartney, and Robert H. Swan Jr.

The discusser notes that the authors' work does not link the relationship of peak internal geosynthetic clay liner (GCL) strength with tension peel strength, despite their citing Richardson (1997). The discusser explains that Richardson's work shows very strong response of increasing shear strength with increasing internal strength, occurring at both low and high normal stresses. Moreover, Richardson's conclusion -- that the peel strength must exceed a specific minimum value -- gives further credibility to the significance of the finding.

Worker Displacement in the US/Mexico Border Region: Issues and Challenges (review)

Reviewed by: Worker Displacement in the US/Mexico Border Region: Issues and Challenges Roger White Worker Displacement in the US/Mexico Border Region: Issues and Challenges. Edited by Jose A. Pagan . Cheltenham, UK and Northampton, MA, USA: Edward Elgar, 2004. 127 pp. $58.50 hardback. Worker Displacement in the US/Mexico Border Region provides a holistic examination of the job displacement issue in border communities. Contributions include a discussion of related worker demographics, direct and indirect monetary costs, associated psychological costs, and possible policy prescriptions. Further, and perhaps most importantly, the book deviates from prior works on this issue by considering displacement-related social costs. The result is an interesting, interrelated mixture of descriptive and empirical analyses, case studies, and theoretical modeling that relates to a timely and important issue that is of considerable policy interest. By concentrating on a small geographic area, the authors are able to focus on the workers rather than the data. This personalization of a topic usually treated with sterility is the text's primary contribution. At the outset, Jose A. Pagan introduces the topic of worker displacement and briefly summarizes each chapter's findings. His later chapter is particularly interesting because he estimates direct and indirect job loss by performing an input-output analysis. He identifies a direct loss of 16,881 jobs and associated indirect and induced losses of 11,327 jobs. Cynthia J. Brown and Marie T. Mora lay the groundwork for subsequent chapters by examining differences in earnings and unemployment between the border and non-border regions of Texas. The chapter by Alberto Davila and Andres Rivas uses Displaced Worker Survey (DWS) data to identify underlying reasons for job displacement. Unfortunately, the DWS is not designed for use at the local level, and a paucity of data greatly hinders the analysis and makes the findings questionable. For example, one table indicates all workers aged 20-24 years were employed, male, and either white or Mexican-American. Similarly, all workers aged 55-64 years were said to be employed white males. [End Page 119] Perhaps the most interesting offering is Chad Richardson's documentation of responses from interviews conducted with displaced workers. These responses humanize the issue of job displacement in a way that empirical examination cannot. Elena Bastida's analysis is a wonderful complement to Richardson's work. Her documentation of the non-pecuniary costs of worker displacement—e.g., an astounding 56.8 percent of displaced workers report experiencing depression—offers a compelling argument for expanded adjustment assistance. The final chapters focus on current and potential policy responses. Jose Llanes considers garment workers' human capital attributes, finding that the cost to train these workers is high compared to anticipated benefits. Llanes suggests on-the-job training and long-term wage support as alternative policies. Marco Garza examines a workforce development model implemented in the region and concludes that, to maximize effectiveness, such policy responses need be sufficiently flexible and tailored to specific situations. The book concludes by abruptly heading in a new direction, offering a theoretical model developed by Gokce Soydemir which forecasts employment variations. While interesting its own right, this chapter is surprising given the text's direction to that point. The book reads well and is accessible without a high degree of technical ability. It would be of interest to most researchers focusing on job displacement and would be appropriate even at the advanced undergraduate level. Roger White Franklin and Marshall College Copyright © 2006 the West Virginia University Press, for the United Association for Labor Studies

Colloquium: Exactly solvable Richardson-Gaudin models for many-body quantum systems

The use of exactly solvable Richardson-Gaudin models to describe the physics of systems with strong pair correlations is reviewed. The article begins with a brief discussion of Richardson's early work, which demonstrated the exact solvability of the pure pairing model, and then shows how that work has evolved recently into a much richer class of exactly solvable models. The Richardson solution leads naturally to an exact analogy between these quantum models and classical electrostatic problems in two dimensions. This analogy is then used to demonstrate formally how BCS theory emerges as the large-$N$ limit of the pure pairing Hamiltonian. Several applications to problems of relevance to condensed-matter physics, nuclear physics, and the physics of confined systems are considered. Some of the interesting effects that are discussed in the context of these exactly solvable models include (i) the crossover from superconductivity to a fluctuation-dominated regime in small metallic grains; (ii) the role of the nucleon Pauli principle in suppressing the effects of high-spin bosons in interacting boson models of nuclei, and (iii) the possibility of fragmentation in confined boson systems. Interesting insight is also provided into the origin of the superconducting phase transition both in two-dimensional electronic systems and in atomic nuclei, based on the electrostatic image of the corresponding exactly solvable quantum pairing models.

John Richardson, saccharometry and the pounds-per-barrel extract: the construction of a quantity

This paper uses the work of John Richardson, an eighteenth-century brewing theorist, to explore the view that physical quantities, though they appear ‘natural’ or ‘given’, are actually contingent entities constructed to serve particular aims. It focuses on the pounds-per-barrel extract, a brewery-specific quantity which, in a reversal of the familiar position, seems self-evidently constructed to the general reader yet came to be accepted as ‘natural’ among its users. Central to Richardson's work in achieving this acceptance was an instrument, the saccharometer, which, by providing measurements of the quantity, legitimated it. Richardson presented both instrument and quantity as tailored to serving the particular needs of his fellow brewers, at the same time emphasizing their separateness from parallel work in distillery assessment, which had made Richardson's innovation possible but now threatened his projected consensus. Richardson's overall project encompassed the direct proportionation of material costs, retail prices and Excise duties to extract values as defined by the saccharometer, which he sought to monopolize. The scheme was not wholly successful, yet Richardson's quantity remained in brewery use into modern times. The end result, I contend, shows how a quantity, by becoming naturalized, may survive the loss of its initial theoretical underpinning.

The Work(s) of Samuel Richardson (review)

366 EIGHTEENTH-CENTURY FICTION 11:3 be her retirement, a place into which he must never intrude. The dining room is designated the only common ground, the only room in which they may meet to discuss ... theirrelationship. It is not surprising, then, that the dining roombecomes the scene ofmost ofthis couple's contentions, and that absence from meals should immediately assume symbolic importance" (p. 72). Frega's best interpretations, like those of a good psychoanalyst, turn on Richardson's wonderful and endless minutiae, and in this she is surely faithful to the demands of the text. Karen Valihora York University Stephanie Fysh. The Work(s) ofSamuel Richardson. Cranbury, NJ: University of Delaware Press, 1998. 156pp. US$29.50. ISBN 0-87413-626-1. By concentrating on the reality and materiality of Richardson's works and thus presenting a revisionist reading of the author, Stephanie Fysh aims in her study at overcoming the dichotomy traditionally set up between Richardson the novelist and Richardson the printer: "This book proposes that we need not follow Richardson's example of separation, but can choose instead his example of bringing together the textual and the technological, the creative and the everyday, realms ofleisure and realms ofwork, fictions and realities" (p. 7). Fysh is idiosyncratic in her approach and choice of subjects: for instance, she puts an emphasis on a lesser-known work such as The Apprentice 's Vade Mecum, on the fan material of Pamela rather than the novel itself, on a small but significant detail such as Paper X of Clarissa, and on the connection between the function of property and copyright law in Sir Charles Grandison. The result is an original and refreshing contribution to scholarship. A chapter on theoretical considerations and an overview of the aspect of technology as intermittently emerging in Richardson studies are followed by four chapters, each of which concentrates on one particular work ofthe English author. Fysh examines The Apprentice 's Vade Mecum as "a physical and symbolic document constructed and mediated by the labor processes and practices involved in its production, and in its turn constructing and mediating those processes and practices " (p. 28) and comes to the conclusion that itrepresents amanual ofconduct and morality and a book in which Richardson, as author and printer, completely controls the text. Her investigation ofthe author's labour practices in his own printing house furthermore draws attention to the fact that Richardson's need for control extended into the strict rule of his apprentices' lives. The paternalism on the part ofthe printer which emerged in his role as master also comes to the fore in the Vade Mecum, which constitutes, in its emphasis on familial relations and the necessity ofmoral conduct, "a prelude to Richardson's canonical work as a novelist" (p. 56). Fysh's subsequent chapter on Pamela deals with the cultural manifestations and uses of that novel, such as anecdotes, a waxworks exhibition, two Vauxhall REVIEWS 367 paintings, and a fan. By "extending the boundaries of the 'text' of Pamela ... reexamining it as a work, as a cultural artifact that includes many material texts and even nontextual artifacts" (p. 58), Fysh's objective is to come to a better understanding of its meaning and to arrive at the social function of its offshoots. Through both her approach to and her interest in this non-literary aspect ofa novel she manages to unearth fascinating new material. In her investigation of Clarissa, Fysh returns to the theme of a printer's control overhis text. She analyses the varying typographicalrenditions ofPaper X and, in a survey of the positions ofrecent literary critics, draws attention to possibly flawed readings. Her main contribution to scholarship in this chapter is the evidence she collects on the considerable control Richardson exerted as his own printer over his work, and thus again emphasizes an aspect hitherto neglected in literary criticism. Taking as a starting point the pamphlet war over the publication of Sir Charles Grandison, Fysh shows that Richardson's last novel "demonstrates an intersection of various meanings and conceptions of 'property' in the mid-eighteenth century: ofliterary and theoretical property; ofthoughts on gardens, estate management , and houses; and of women as property" (p. 100). She...