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Fall 2006
Volume 06, Number 1

Newsletter on Feminism and Philosophy

Book Reviews

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Jane Austen and the Enlightenment

Peter Knox-Shaw (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004). 275 pages. $75.00. ISBN: 0521843464

Reviewed by Monica Shores
George Washington University, mshores@gwu.edu

To love an author passionately is, in many ways, to regard her much as one would a family member. There is a tenderness and an intimacy that develops when one temporarily enters the mind of another human being, particularly when that human being is as articulate as Jane Austen. It is with this peculiar and engaging dynamic that Peter Knox-Shaw undertakes the project of recasting Jane Austen as a conscientious and receptive woman of her time, instead of an "arch party-pooper" who longs to return to a time when the Enlightenment had not corrupted Europe with its socially disruptive ideas (3). As a scholar, he is understandably put off by an incorrect reading of her work simply because it is not academically sound. However, as a lover of Austen’s work, he appears more affronted by the trend of criticism, which does her a great disservice personally. The Austen as "nostalgic reactionary" movement does both (i).

Knox-Shaw directs his critical energy primarily against Marilyn Butler, who holds tremendous influence as a contemporary critic. Butler has shaped the current thought of Austen as a woman of "preconceived and inflexible" ideas, and Knox-Shaw wastes no time in outlining the skeptical tradition, housed within the Enlightenment, of which he believes Austen was a part (4). David Hume and Adam Smith are referenced early in this process, and later prove to be critical figures in Austen’s congealing morality, as illustrated in her novels. Other formidable figures are touched upon: William Cowper, William Godwin, Erasmus Darwin. It is increasingly apparent that Knox-Shaw has a tremendous amount of material to contend with. Yet, oddly, it is in this same chapter, "Auspices," that the book engages an odd diversion from which it never quite recovers.

The book jacket boasts that Knox-Shaw utilizes "archival and other neglected sources," which is certainly an appealing piece of scholarly bait, but these texts ultimately prove to have more anecdotal appeal than revelations as to definite partisan or religious positions of Austen’s, largely because they are not works of her own. Jane becomes very much an afterthought during this portion, where Knox-Shaw turns his attention to James Austen’s poems and plays instead, written while he, the oldest brother, and Jane were still living in the same household. It becomes easy to recognize how much ink is devoted to this endeavor when it is compared to the rest of the book; the single largest section concerned with James spans twenty pages, which is equal in length to the chapter on Jane’s Northanger Abbey and almost twice the length of the book’s final chapter.

When presented in this scope, the analysis of James’s work, which surfaces frequently throughout the entire text, becomes tedious and a distraction from Jane’s own pieces instead of a supplement. Even Knox-Shaw himself makes this diminished relevance explicit, usually when he seems to lack a fluid transition back into a discussion of his original Austen’s work. For instance, after dedicating four pages to writer Adam Ferguson and how his essay influenced James’s circle of friends, Knox-Shaw mentions, "Ferguson may or may not have been among the many historians whom (Jane) read" (67). Yet he is unable to resist including the information, perhaps because of his familial allegiance to Austen’s work and, by extension, her family’s. These types of vague conclusions stand in stark contrast to the rest of the book’s more concrete and well-supported assertions. Using her brother’s work to assist in outlining the most influential literary works of the time is an admirable idea, but in practice it is unable to sustain the momentum and import of the rest of the book. Familiarity by association is plausible, although not particularly compelling, and influence as opposed to exposure would be the only basis strong enough to warrant the amount of time given to those related to or simply acquainted with Jane and the work they produce.

Knox-Shaw’s writing dramatically comes to life when he allows himself to delve directly into Jane Austen’s texts with the mission of poking holes in the Anti-Jacobian interpretations, and he does so deftly, with great confidence and enthusiasm. When he integrates points and ideas of the Enlightenment directly with analysis of Austen’s work instead of refracting these ideas through her brother James, his assertions take on great authority. It is in these moments that the real work of the book is done, namely, discrediting Butler as the designated figurehead of the most tenacious "Austen as reactionary" school of thought. On several occasions, Knox-Shaw refutes Butler, to devastating effect, with Austen’s own text, such as when he pits Butler’s assertion of "the sprightly heroine who renounces her independence of mind in order to conform to a received view of the world" to the final page of Pride and Prejudice, which identifies the newly married Elizabeth Bennet as so "lively" when talking with her husband that she induces "astonishment bordering on alarm" in her sister-in-law (95).

Furthermore, Knox-Shaw casts an entirely different light on what has been interpreted as Austen’s unforgiving nature when it comes to her characters’ indiscretions: "Austen writes about shame unblinkingly, exposing…its power of involving the innocent. She shows that shame…is a rudimentary social force, albeit one that cries out for humane meditation" (99). Within this reading, a socially disruptive action and the negative consequences it invites is a cycle not indicative of Austen’s personal sense of justice but, rather, her sense of duty in presenting a realistic social climate. Her insistence that "fictive actions should tally with repeated observations from real life" was so fierce that she "altogether avoided scenes in which men confer together in the absence of women" (22).

Though the book purports to be intimately connected enough with philosophy to have it mentioned under its first Library of Congress categorization, in truth it is at various turns a British history, a biography, and a literary analysis, but never a philosophical work. Knox-Shaw calls upon philosophers only in service of establishing the intellectual climate of the Enlightenment, but an audience of philosophers will undoubtedly find some enjoyment in the crediting of Smith and Hume to Austen’s "two-tiered system of morality," which allows her to salvage "social benefits from a range of human energies that had been sunk under the label of vice" (253).

Ultimately, Knox-Shaw’s ideas are inarguably well-explicated and convincing, and yet struggle to be experienced as the dominant discourse of the book. His textual analysis and commentary on Austen’s work are simply overshadowed by the massive amount of historical background and references within references that bracket every discovery. While this historical density will certainly be of great appeal to some, it is perhaps not in the best interest of his stated thesis that an overabundance of information is provided, particularly when it is not immediately relevant to Austen’s work. Jane Austen and the Enlightenment is thoroughly researched and impressively woven together, although these facets might have been more readily appreciable had the book been titled The Enlightenment and Jane Austen.

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