| Title | : | Castle Rackrent (Hackett Classics) |
| Author | : | |
| Rating | : | |
| ISBN | : | 087220877X |
| ISBN-10 | : | 9780872208773 |
| Language | : | English |
| Format Type | : | Paperback |
| Number of Pages | : | 87 |
| Publication | : | First published January 1, 1800 |
Castle Rackrent (Hackett Classics) Reviews
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This enjoyable one volume novel--brief as a medium-sized novella--was published in 1800, but is set in the years from the middle of the 18th century to the establishment of the Irish constitution of 1782. It gives us a satirical view of four generations of the Rackrent family, each an example of the irresponsible Irish gentry. Parsimonious or profligate in his habits, amiable or arrogant in his demeanor, each Lord Rackrent impoverishes his peasants and abuses his wealth, leading to the destruction of the Rackrent fortune and the mortaging--and eventual loss--of the Rackrent estates.
The tale is told in the voice of Thady Quirk, an old house servant, who, while loyally praising or excusing each former master, observes so precisely and narrates so colorfully the history of the family that he makes each Lord of Rackrent look very bad indeed.
This narrative--arguably not only the first historical novel but also the first novel of any sort featuring an unreliable narrator---taught Austen something about irony and gave Scott a great model for his lengthier, more ponderous books (including revelatory monologues by comic servants in ethnic dialect and the use of an imposing apparatus of notes and appendices to explain the little-known singularities of a minority culture).
Unlike many historically important works, Castle Rackrent is entertaining, and well worth the short amount of time it will take you to read it. -
There's a curious reference to Castle Rackrent in The Great Gatsby. Nick invites his cousin Daisy over for tea, instructing her not to bring her husband. The plan is to privately re-introduce her to Gatsby. When Daisy greets Nick, she says "'Are you in love with me?...or why did I have to come alone?'" to which Nick responds, "'That's the secret of Castle Rackrent.'"
It seems Fitzgerald assumed his 1920s audience would be familiar with Maria Edgeworth's novel, originally published over a century earlier in 1800. Daisy, at least, doesn't ask what the heck Nick is talking about. Then again, perhaps the allusion was meant to be unusual, inspiring readers to pick up the old classic to find out for themselves. That’s what happened to me.
Despite its Gothic-sounding title, Castle Rackrent is a rather ordinary novel. Traces of melodrama are subdued and largely rooted in realism. The characters are flawed but not cartoonish. And that seems to be why it was so wildly popular. It is an Irish family saga, featuring wealthy characters, poor characters, poor characters who become wealthy and wealthy characters who become poor. I could go on, but in 1897, notable author J. Fitzgerald Molloy described it best. Here's what he wrote when he reviewed the novel for a "Women Writers of the Victorian Era" segment in the Hartford Courant:
[Castle Rackrent] dealt with Irish life, and pictured it with relentless faithfulness...In these pages the Irishman was shown to be neither the clown nor the buffoon he was represented in fiction and on the stage. Maria Edgeworth depicted him as she saw him, not concealing his faults nor exaggerating his virtues, but setting both down. The knowledge of the scenes described, the human nature her characters displayed, were striking. They who read laughed and cried almost in the same breath, as indeed may those who read today, for her stories have that touch of genius which makes their interest evergreen.
Indeed, the novel's "evergreen" charm continues to be its day-in-the-life education of what it was like to be Irish at the turn of the nineteenth century. I was surprised to see how many everyday phrases rooted in Irish life continue to thrive. Many stereotypes are re-affirmed and debunked through the course of the novel. Yes, there's even several mentions of the all-important potato.
As for why it shows up in Gatsby, I'm still mystified. As is the literary community it seems. There are some arguing that Castle Rackrent's ending is a mystery, so Nick is just saying their meeting is as unexplainable as that. But I didn't find the ending strange at all. It lacks a final "point" perhaps, but it is not unsatisfactory or particularly elusive.
Others have suggested the reference is meant to draw structural comparisons, since Nick and Thady (the narrator of Castle Rackrent) are both less socially significant than the characters they write about.
Then there are even theories that the reference is meant to be a nod to feminism, since Maria Edgeworth was a rare example of a successful female author at this point in history.
None of these explanations are particularly satisfying to me. Not that I have anything better to offer. The only alternative theory crossing my mind is that both Castle Rackrent and The Great Gatsby show characters who are frivolous with their money and quickly gain and lose wealth. Perhaps Fitzgerald found some cross-inspiration in that?
In any case, though the Gatsby allusion remains a mystery to me, I'm glad Fitzgerald included it because otherwise I doubt I would have stumbled across this obscure classic. In the end, I don't think it holds up as an enthralling read, but--at only a hundred pages--it's an easily digestible way to gain Irish history in entertainment form. -
This is a short novel but it seems long like a visit to the dentist might only last 15 minutes but subjectively it lasts for three days.
I read this so you don’t have to. It’s a comic monologue by an ancient servant to the Irish Rackrent family. He has tunnel vision, all he is interested in is his master and his master’s money, i.e. lack of it. There is no plot, it’s just this guy got drunk, that guy got drunk, and this guy got drunk. Then this guy gambled all his money away. Then that guy married a lady for her money but she didn’t have any. Then they all got drunk.
Some things this longwinded bore says are quite funny, in a quite funny kind of way.
The introduction says “Castle Rackrent may well be one of the most famous unread novels in English”. I think you may have got the reason why by now. -
This is a little novel that deserves to be well known.
It is the every day story of the decline and fall of a noble Irish house into poverty through drinking, extravagant living and a wild passion for loosing cases at law as told from the point of view of a loyal old retainer. A man so loyal that he interprets all that behaviour as demonstrating the admirable grandeur of the family, none of that penny pinching miserliness of others, noble extravagance whether they can afford it or not is the way to be.
Best of all it is based on events that actually occurred drawn from Edgeworth's time in Ireland, including locking up wives until they handed over their valuables to their ungallant husbands, getting elected to Parliament to escape debtors the old retainer's horror of the new Lord's Jewish wife - a union he justifies to himself as neccessary for the money she brought with her, and going to law in a fine old style to keep the bog as part of the heavily indebted estate. Edgeworth naturally delights in the particular uses-ages of 18th century Irish -English such as kilt (ie killed in standard English, rather than the Scotch garment) for injured rather than the standard English meaning of the word .
Too short to miss,it offers a vision of the more colourful side of the world of Jane Austen -
Castle Rackrent, by Maria Edgeworth, published in 1800.
Who is Maria Edgeworth you may ask, well, she was an English/Irish writer during late 18th century and early 19th century. She was a contemporary of Jane Austen, Ann Radcliffe, and Sir Walter Scott, among others. I mention these three because they acknowledge being influenced by Edgeworth's writing. She wrote several novels and many works that were politically and socially motivated by Irish politics and social class inequality.
Castle Rackrent is a satire on Irish landlords, the abuse of their tenants, and the mismanagement of their estates. It is the story of four generations of the Rackrent family, as told by "Old Thady", a loyal male servant who witnessed the actions of all four Lords and eventually the downfall and loss of the estate. -
Nata in Inghilterra ma vissuta dai quindici anni in poi in Irlanda dove la famiglia possedeva una proprietà, Mary Edgeworth [1767-1848] scrisse diversi romanzi di successo tra cui questo “Il Castello di Rackrent” pubblicato nel 1800.
Di facile e piacevole lettura questo romanzo, di appena percettibile denuncia sociale, narra le disavventure degli ultimi aristocratici proprietari del castello Rackrent e dei terreni annessi nessuno dei quali lascia un’impronta qualitativamente positiva al punto che l’ultimo, Sir Condy, è costretto a svendere la proprietà a causa degli enormi debiti disinvoltamente contratti in una vita condotta nel segno dell’ozio e del bere e del totale disinteresse nel curare gli aspetti economici e produttivi della proprietà. -
Published in 1800 at a time when a novel’s characters and places were given names which, whilst being silly, were memorable and a helpful prompt to dozing readers like me. You know exactly who and what they are about. Thus: Rackrent, Stopgap, Skinflint, Moneygawl….Here Maria Edgeworth portrays the Irish Protestant Ascendancy, of which she herself was a part. I read that she wrote as its/their Apologist. Really! To read this is to become further aware of the inevitability of the “Irish Troubles”.
Loyal Catholic subservience to these awful creatures, human in their failings like all of us, could only last so long. Some of this reads like very early Tom Sharpe. The Emerald Isle surely deserved better.
I now need a blast of Stiff Little Fingers, starting with “Alternative Ulster”, I think! -
“…the manners depicted in the following pages are not those of the present age: the race of the Rackrents has long since been extinct in Ireland; and the drunken Sir Patrick, the litigious Sir Murtagh, the fighting Sir Kit, and the slovenly Sir Condy, are characters which could no more be met with at present in Ireland …”
I only finished this because it was so short. It’s a bit difficult to read, both due to style and the fact there is more introduction and preface and glossary and footnotes than there is story. And what story is there doesn’t amount to much: four generations of heirs, for varying and not very exciting reasons, have trouble hanging on to their estate.
Maybe if I knew more Irish history I would have appreciated the satire. I tried doing some homework, which is almost always necessary for me when reading something from the 18th century, and that turned out to be the high point of this experience for me. I didn’t know that before the Relief Act of 1782, Irish Catholics couldn’t run for parliament or practice law or even inherit land unless they converted to the Church of England. I also looked up some information about Fairy Mounts, which was a lot of fun, and next time I will read a story about them.
But the book is an important milestone: supposedly the first historical novel, an early use of an unreliable narrator, and purported to do for Ireland what Sir Walter Scott did for Scotland, though I don’t really get what this did for Ireland.
What was interesting to me was this early female voice. It’s told from the point of view of Thady, long-time steward of the Rackrent family, but you can hear the writer’s voice come through in the way the female characters are portrayed: causing all kinds of trouble by being so unreasonable as to want to keep their own jewelry or disliking the way their new spouse and home reek of alcohol. And the very fact that it’s told by a servant might have been something a male writer couldn’t have pulled off as well back then.
But all-in-all, I’m afraid I can’t recommend this one. -
Cited as an early satirical work and one of the first English historical novels, Castle Rackrent is the story of the Rackrents, formerly the O'Shaughlins, a family of land-holding Anglo-Irish aristocrats who sink into dissolution and ruin over the course of four generations. The narrator, "Old Thady" or "Honest Thady," is the Rackrents' steward. Offering occasionally obsequious, occasionally wry commentary, never directly insulting the family he's served for his entire life but making it pretty clear that some of them are wastes of space, Thady is also supposedly an early example of an unreliable narrator.
As a work of satire, Castle Rackrent isn't that funny, though the Rackrents are certainly comical figures. Thady describes one Rackrent heir after the next: the generous but spendthrift Sir Patrick O'Shaughlin, the litigious Sir Murtagh Rackrent, the cruel Sir Kit Rackrent, who abuses his Jewish wife and locks her in her bedroom for seven years, and the last of the Rackrents, Sir Condy, who ends up selling the estate to the narrator's son, Jason. It emerges as a single long stream of narration, interspersed with Thady's highly vernacular commentary, telling the history of Castle Rackrent until at last it falls into the hands of their long-time Irish steward's son.
Politically, this book was apparently something of a hot potato, being published just prior to the 1800 Act of Union that supposedly united Ireland with Britain. Edgeworth was ostensibly describing the Irish people for her English readers. From the Author's Preface:
For the information of the IGNORANT English reader, a few notes have been subjoined by the editor, and he had it once in contemplation to translate the language of Thady into plain English; but Thady's idiom is incapable of translation, and, besides, the authenticity of his story would have been more exposed to doubt if it were not told in his own characteristic manner. Several years ago he related to the editor the history of the Rackrent family, and it was with some difficulty that he was persuaded to have it committed to writing; however, his feelings for 'THE HONOUR OF THE FAMILY,' as he expressed himself, prevailed over his habitual laziness, and he at length completed the narrative which is now laid before the public.
As she puts it, the Irish were more alien to the English than the people of continental Europe. Her description of the Irish is sympathetic yet slightly condescending; betwixt the lines one sees the sharp criticism of English overlordship, and how mismanagement by profligate and irresponsible, mostly absentee, landlords has driven the Irish to poverty and pathos.
That said, it's a very early work. The novel form was still being refined. Edgeworth writes with a certain amount of humor and depth, but I saw little of the wit or understanding of story found in Jane Austen's much better novels, which came a few years later. This would be of interest to people with a historical interest in Anglo-Irish relations, and Edgeworth casts neither the English nor the Irish as heroes or villains; they're just two groups of people thrown together into a historical stew; the bloody outcome persisting for generations was probably not foreseeable by the author, even if she shows an awareness of what sort of calamity is already being perpetrated. 2 stars for entertainment value, 3 stars for its historical value and place in literary history. -
Edgeworth’s satire inspired the oeuvre of Walter Scott—this unappealing fact aside, it is an excellent lampoon in the Swiftian tradition and something of a progenitor to the popular technique of frametales, found books ‘edited’ by the authors, and unreliable narrators. The rambling narrator Thady Quirk tells of the Rackrent clan and their various adventures in the age of Irish revolt over landlordism. More impressively, this book boasts three levels of foot- and endnotes, making the book read more like a historical or legal document, which adds to the fun of the book in a way only Foster Wallace or Flann achieve with their tangents. For students of the Irish novel and the history of satire in fiction.
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An unexpectedly delightful book, one of the first I've read that really captures what I've come to think of as quintessentially British humor, the sort later typified by Wilde and Wodehouse. The pointlessly loyal teller of this tale is one of the best examples of the 'Unreliable Narrator' that I've seen in fiction, and seems to be a prototype for a similarly humorous servant in Collins' 'The Moonstone'. Add in the political and social satire concerning Anglo-Irish relations and you've got quite the solid little novella.
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Misogyny. It is unavoidable in literature of the early 19th century, not to mention later entries and even in contemporary efforts. But the degree to which it is presented and the extent to which it contaminates the narrative does vary from book to book. Few reach the amount of hatred for women across generations as does Castle Rackrent and of those that do, even fewer are penned by an actual woman.
In the Introduction, a woman scholar goes to some length to contrast Edgeworth's 'mannish' style to the more flowery and much better known Jane Austen. And it is quite true that Edgeworth has no patience for incursions into romantic love, dashing beaus who are probably destitute but likely to be plot contrived into wealth by the end of the novel. Edgeworth's concerns are much more realistic in that they revolve around rents, how these are extorted from the peasantry by increasingly more incompetent aristocrats.
Which is fine and dandy but I wonder if under this terminology of 'mannish' style the scholar was not hinting- without, oddly enough, ever admitting to- Edgeworth's profound and unrelenting hatred for women. Much is said about the Rackrent men and how the novel analyses the decay of the family but precious little has been said about the role the women play in this. This review will, therefore, focus on them.
Every single woman in this novel is portrayed as a shrew, which is already terrible, and culminates in their suffering- which is extreme in some cases- being dismissed altogether or treated as the stuff of jokes. In a double whammy, it is a Jewish woman who gets the brunt of this gross prejudice. I do not expect a particularly tactful depiction of Jews in a book published in 1800 but this may very well be one of the absolutely worst cases of criminally racially abusive depictions I have ever countered. It is worth mentioning that centuries had passed since The Merchant of Venice whose portrayal of Jews is, while deeply problematic, considerably more nuanced than the horror that is Rackrent.
I will spoiler tag details of this abuse but I recommend prospective readers to read them anyway in order to have a clear idea of what they are getting themselves into.
One can of course question to what extent Thady's views coincide with the author's. After all, he is one of those silly servants who ends up revealing the truth of the affair even as he does his best to counteract it. The more Thady insists on the dignity of this hopeless family, the more the reader is supposed to see them as precisely that, hopeless.
But the bile against every single woman, even if it is just Thady's, receives no push-back. If this is deliberate and the reader is supposed to see that they are victims in this freak show is not at all clear. If that was the idea, I will say that it failed grossly.
Class, and not gender, seems to be lens through which this one is read. It is well worth mentioning that misogyny in this one is not only applicable to the higher classes. Peasant women are almost absent as characters but one does qualify as an actual character with lines, at the very end, only to also be shown to be every bit as worthless as every other female.
Misogyny is often presented in oblique ways. In Rackrent it is unabashedly endorsed, promoted and offered to the reader as the way of understanding women. -
Siendo esta la primera y más conocida novela de María Edgewoth, viene a posicionarse como una inusual historia de la literatura irlandesa como de ficción, aunque algunos críticos la consideran como la primera novela histórica de la literatura inglesa. A su vez, se le ha colocado en la mira como la primera novela escrita en un dialecto no estándar, la cual la hace pasar por novela provincial o regional, derribado así también como novela de dichos y hechos de la vida de la clase terrateniente protestantes angloirlandeses. Es decir, fue una novela, aunque corta en páginas, pero ha sido valorada por la crítica como la génesis de novelas, un hito importante en la evolución de la novela.
“Por mi parte, estoy harto de desear nada de este mundo después de todo lo que he visto, pero no diré nada. Sería una tontería enemistarme a mi avanzada edad. Jason no se casó, ni pensó en casarse con Judy, como yo había profetizado, y no lo lamento. ¿Quién lo lamenta? En cuanto a todo lo que he apuntado aquí de memoria y las habladurías sobre la familia, no hay más que verdad en todo, desde el principio hasta al final, de eso pueden estar seguros. ¿Qué sentido tiene mentir acerca de cosas que todo el mundo conocía tan bien como yo?”
La historia que nos cuenta el narrador, que lleva por nombre Thady Quirk, el sirviente de la familia Rackrent, y como bien dice el prólogo, nos lo dice con una lengua difícil de traducir al inglés corriente que si no fuese por: “la autenticidad de su historia hubiese sido puesta en duda de no haber sido narrada en su manera característica” pero aparte de lo difícil de su lengua, fue toda una labor convencerlo para dejar por escrito la historia de la familia Rackrent. El castillo de Rackrent narra la decadencia de la fortuna y ruina final de la familia Rackrent motivado por el mal manejo de su patrimonio de los herederos, los cuales eran unos incompetentes e irresponsables. Todo lo que nos narra el libro son extraídos de hechos reales dado en Irlanda del siglo XVIII, como bien lo afirma la autora.
En resumida, este texto nos trasmite el trasfondo histórico y político de la Irlanda del siglo XVIII, el cual su narrador, Thady Quirk, dejan a las claras las obvias fallas en la vida política y social del momento. Pero independientemente de las fallas que se pueden apreciar política y socialmente, hay ocasión para ver como de la clase pobre, surgen personajes con el deseo de escalar, como es el caso del hijo de Thady Quirk, Jason Quirk: “Jason Quirk, aunque sea mi hijo, debo decir que fue un buen estudiante desde su nacimiento y un chico muy listo” “Viendo que era tan buen oficinista como el mejor de la región, el agente le dejaba las cuentas de los arrendamientos para que las copiara, lo cual hizo Jason, en primer lugar, por el placer de complacer al caballero y, además, se negaba a aceptar pago alguno por su trabajo porque siempre estuvo orgulloso de servir a la familia. Tiempo después quedó en manos de Su Señoría una buena granja que lindaba hacia al Este con la nuestra y mi hijo presentó una oferta. ¿Por qué no podía pedirla él como cualquier otro? Las propuestas fueron enviadas a Bath, al amo, quien sabía de sus tierras menos que un niño antes de nacer, pues tan sólo vino una vez a cazar en ellas antes de marcharse a Inglaterra. Como el valor de las tierras caía cada año, según le informó el agente, Su Señoría respondió en una escueta carta que dejaba todo en sus manos, que las adjudicara en las mejores condiciones al mejor postor y le enviara 200 libras a vuelta de correo. De esta forma el agente me dio una pista y yo hablé en favor de mi hijo e hice saber por toda la región que nadie debía pujar contra nosotros. De manera que su oferta fue la adecuada y él resultó un buen arrendatario.” Otros aspectos que podemos ver es lado religioso en el caso de la esposa Sir Kit, la cual era judía de una gran fortuna, que por su religión quiso marcar territorio prohibiendo el cerdo y las salchichas: “Su luna de miel, al menos su luna de miel irlandesa, aún no había terminado cuando una mañana mi amo me dijo: «Thady, ¡cómprame un cerdo!». Y entonces se dio orden de preparar las salchichas, y en ese momento saltaron a la vista, por primera vez, los problemas de mi señora. Bajó personalmente a la cocina para hablar con la cocinera acerca de las salchichas y expresó su deseo de no verlas nunca más en su mesa. Bien, mi amo las había pedido y mi señora lo sabía.” Otra historia a tomar en cuenta es la muerte de Sir Patrick, a que fue sometido su cuerpo ya muerto:” ¡Feliz el hombre que apenas conseguía ver el coche fúnebre! Pero ¿quién lo hubiera pensado? Justo cuando todo iba tan bien, cuando estaba pasando por su propio pueblo, el muerto fue detenido y secuestrado a causa de sus deudas, maliciándose que la muchedumbre pediría un rescate. El heredero, que asistía al funeral, estaba en contra por temor a las consecuencias al ver que los malvados actuaban bajo el disfraz de la Ley.” -
Dry as all holy hell, but important in terms of early 19C Ireland and the evolution of novelistic conventions.
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Febregency 2023 read.
Hmm, I don’t know about this novella. Two stars feels too harsh, but I hardly ever rate anything two stars so it’s rather exciting to have tapped it. 😆 I didn’t dislike reading this exactly. But as far as the story itself, I don’t like reading about characters who recklessly spend money and impoverish themselves to the point where there are no candles in the house. I can’t think of any redeeming qualities in the successive owners of Castle Rackrent. Perhaps that’s part of the point. I’m not sure. My understanding of Ireland and its relationship with England circa 1800 is marginal at best, so I’m likely missing a lot of what Edgeworth is trying to do here. Is this satire? Maybe I’m taking it too seriously.
My favorite part of this was the introduction by Anne Thackeray. Maria Edgeworth and her father seem like fascinating, idiosyncratic characters, and I’d like to know about them more than I would like to read more of Edgeworth’s writing.
Compared to Austen’s novels, the two Maria Edgeworth novels I’ve read now seem amateurish. Is this too harsh? Very possibly. This is only my opinion and by no means a learned one. But Austen’s prose, plots, character development, and narrative style seem leagues and bounds more sophisticated than this. There’s really no comparison between the two.
So the two stars may say a lot more about me as a good reader of Edgeworth than it does about Edgeworth. I hope I’ll return to this novella and/or to Edgeworth in general in the future as a more knowledgeable historian and as a better reader. -
In my quest for first time novels by certain authors, Maria Edgeworth was on my list, especially after enjoying Belinda. I had no idea what to expect but I found a truly interesting portrayal of Irish gentry and it reminded me in a sense of Anthony Trollope's Macdermots of Ballycloran, in the sad state of these gentlemen and their positions. Having Irish ancestry, I found this very interesting in culture and custom. Edgeworth had great copy from her father's friends and neighbors. This story is based on a neighbouring estate and Sir Kit's treatment of his wife a almost parallel but also Thomas Day's Sabrina project is mentioned which was copy for Belinda. I did not read this edition but a collection of her works from Delphi. For additional information on this, I copy and pasted with my notes. Thady Quirk tells the story of all the masters of Rackrent that come and go, where he stays the same.
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Very amusing but not enough to help over the fact that it feels pretty thin on plot. Maybe focussing on one member of the Rackrent family would have helped?
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Not exactly a page-turner, but I understand why this made it onto THE LIST.
So, to sum up the novel’s story, there’s this working-class servant type guy in Ireland named Thady Quirk; he’s about eighty years old and is telling the history of the owners of the Rackrent property. The first third or so of the novel is a quick breezing through the stories of three owners, but then what seems to be the ‘good part’ of the story is in the last two-thirds with the story of Sir Condy Rackrent. Each of these four owners so completely mismanages their estate that everything ends up being owned by ______. Bottom line: the book satirizes Irish landowners.
But, here’s the REAL reason I think this story made it onto THE LIST. The book was written and ready for publishing just a few months before the Acts of Union 1800, which united the Kingdom of Great Britain with the Kingdom of Ireland. Shortly before it was published, footnotes and a glossary (written in the voice of an Englishman) were added for political reasons. (Basically, everyone was concerned that someone from Great Britain would read the book and think Irishmen were just as bad as they were made out to be in the book and oppose the imminent Parliamentary Acts.)
And, it was the GLOSSARY that I enjoyed more so than the story itself. Because, it was actually kind of funny to learn some of the old Irish customs and traditions. So, I added an extra star to my rating just for that. -
Readers of Austen and Scott should not miss this one. It's quite short and kinda odd, but funny and fascinating from a historical perspective. (Poor old Thady!) The glossary in itself is a hoot. And the traditional introduction is not to be missed, but can be saved until the end when you'll be curious about this Maria Edgeworth.
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I skipped the lengthy introduction (~25% of this Kindle book!).
I wonder whether Susanna Clarke (author of "Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell") was a fan of this classic because Edgeworth's glossary and Clarke's footnotes were similar in style!
I found many of the anecdotes amusing but the final story about Sir Condy struck me as rather sad. -
Sure, it has some historical value.
But blimey is it not subtle ; I can't stand heavy handed satire.
If drunk aristocrats living in debt in derelict castles is your thing, then go for it, it's an easy and short read ; otherwise, go on your way. -
Family history…
Thady Quirk has lived on the estate of the Rackrent family all his life, and here sets out to tell the story of the four Rackrents who have owned the estate over that period. The introduction in my Oxford World’s Classic edition, by Kathryn J Kirkpatrick, is nearly a third as long as the entire novella, and tells us that “Castle Rackrent has gathered a dazzling array of firsts – the first regional novel, the first socio-historical novel, the first Irish novel, the first Big House novel, the first saga novel.” Whew! But the question is, is it good? And for me the answer is it’s rather underwhelming, not helped in truth by all these accolades and high-flown claims which set expectations too high.
In fact, it is a rather slight novella, taking a humorous look at the Anglo-Irish Protestants who were given land in Ireland in order to subdue the Catholic natives, but then mismanaged it through incompetence or lack of interest. The Rackrent heirs show all the fecklessness of their class, and all the different weaknesses that lead them to gradually lose their fortune and control of their estates. Spendthrifts, gamblers, drunkards – the Rackrents have one thing in common; they do nothing to improve the estate, but expect it to provide enough income to pay for their vices. We see the evils of absentee landlordism and, of course, of rack-renting – demanding extortionate rents from tenants on threat of eviction. And we see the slow downfall of the family, helped along by the manipulations of Thady’s wily son, who rises to be the estate manager and in time to help the Rackrent dynasty come to its end.
It’s written in a form of dialect but clearly aimed at an English readership as much as Irish, so not at all difficult to read. Edgeworth has included what she calls a glossary to explain some terms and traditions which may be unfamiliar to English readers. These take the form of explanatory notes, and are interesting and quite fun, containing some anecdotes to illustrate points she raises in the novella itself.
A mildly entertaining read, then, but I feel its fame is probably mostly for all those “firsts” and for the academic analysis of what the story has to say about the period. As you can probably tell from this lacklustre review, it didn’t inspire me to lavish either praise or scorn – a couple of weeks after reading it, it has faded almost completely away.
www.fictionfanblog.wordpress.com -
Having finished my previous book at the beginning of a long train journey, and being mindful of not spending any more money (and thanking the inventor of the Kindle for letting me carry a virtual library with me everywhere I go), I went for the free and fairly short Castle Rackrent thinking that a quick classic might help the journey to speed by. But, while short, this bored the ass off me, helping make the journey feel like it was three times longer than it was and driving me to play on my phone as often as possible instead.
Told by ‘Honest’ Thady, the house servant, Castle Rackrent tells the story of four generations of its owners, charting the rise and fall of their fortunes as the house falls into the hands of the family before passing back out and into those of Thady’s son. Fawning over each of its lords in the telling of their tales while making clear the various character defects that have caused their downfall – pennypinching, litigious, degenerate, cruel, or just plain dense, each of the lords are utter knobs - Thady’s tale is apparently a satire that shouldn’t be missed, according to those lists of books you should apparently read before you die. I beg to differ.
It probably didn’t help that I’ve had a staggeringly good run of books this year, having enjoyed everything I’ve read so far, as well as having also only just put down a much more entertaining book, but the only list that Castle Rackrent is gracing in my head is that of the most dull and underwhelming books I’ve ever read.
**Also posted at Cannonball Read 9** -
Most people assume that the first historical novel was written by Sir Walter Scott, but this one was penned by Maria Edgeworth while he was still a poet. I don't think this is yet another case of women's work being ignored, as I suspect that most modern readers who make these lists aren't aware that the novel, published in 1800, is actually set roughly fifty years before, before the Irish constitution was established.
So it stands out for being the first historical novel, and one of the first with an unreliable narrator (Laurence Sterne having begun publishing Tristram Shandy around the time this novel was set).
It's Edgeworth's shortest novel, and a lot of people over the years have agreed that it's her best. I think that is entirely due to the narrative voice, a first person elderly Irishman of humble birth named Thady Quirk. He sets out to relate the history of the various owners of Castle Rackrent, the longest history belonging to the one he knew best. He admires them all, though the reader can easily see that they were, at best, a feckless lot, either profligate or miserly, few of them caring much for the people under them.
Some of the incidents are apparently based on real life occurrences (like a wife locked up for decades in a room because she refused to surrender her jewels to her husband), and the book is replete with Irish expressions, customs, and details. It's a short, charming read, ending with delicate poignancy. -
Forse la parte migliore di questo romanzo che racconta 4 generazioni di proprietari del castello del titolo, sono le note che raccontano tradizioni e abitudini irlandesi tra XVII e il XVIII secolo: dalle celebrazioni per un lutto, alle leggende su banche e folletti, fino alle regole contrattuali che legavano latifondisti e contadini.
La trama in sé è un susseguirsi di episodi che vede la maggioranza dei padroni di casa dedicarsi a sperperare il proprio denaro e a fare debiti. Carina, ma niente di più. -
Some books are definitely for certain times, people, contexts, etc. (or various combinations of said variables). This was not for me or my time at this reading. Edgeworth provided a brief yet scattered work in my eyes. Some insights about the relationship between Ireland and England and land ownership, but not much else this time around.
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I'm going to be honest. I read this book because I had too. I'm glad it was short because it was tremendously boring. The old Irish expressions make it difficult for a contemporary reader to understand.
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Really more of a 2.5. I liked the writing, the satire made me laugh, but I kept expecting something to actually happen.
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Free download available at
Project Gutenberg.
Review is pending… -
To say that this work caught me off guard is rather an understatement. One the one side you have the weight of the 1001 Books Before You Die that made it possible for me to not only know of a work published by a women way back in the 1800 blue yonder, but to acquire a copy relatively painlessly in terms of both opportunity and price. On the other is my prior experience with Edgeworth in the form of
Belinda, which was so much frustratingly wasted potential and bigotedly censored prose sprawled over more than 400 pages that I thanked whatever gods there are that Austen admired the writer without aping the writing. So, when came time for another reading challenge involving seeking women authorship anywhere and everywhere and the cusp of the 19th century wasn't proving cooperative in terms of the books I had already added, I sighed, gave thanks for the extreme brevity of this particular work, and lined it up along the sights of my reading trajectory. What I didn't exact was a piece that tells itself but tells it slant to such a degree that I have to thank the politics that colored the time of its composition, for while the "first historical novel" has its moments, it's the introduction, glossary, and footnotes, added last minute so as to not scare off the less staunch imperialists of England, that make this text rather extraordinary. Not so extraordinary that I'm willing to rate it any higher than I do, but when it comes to the canon and the like, while I'm sure there's far more works by women floating in the ether of the turn of the 19th c., I'm glad that this one made it to us in relatively one piece.
Satire, satire, satire. Couple that with the phrase 'unreliable narrator', and you have some of the laziest writing uplifted to the highest of heights the world ever did see. You also have some of the greatest piece of texts to ever grace the senses and souls of that forsaken skullduggery of a spieces known as Homo sapien, which is why I continually find myself hurling myself willy nilly at many an uplifted representative and simply seeing what sticks and what does not. Do I think Edgework succeeded as well as, say,
A Modest Proposal did and will forever do? No, but it is worth noting the commonality of Ireland as subject of the two works. For Ireland was one of the earliest testing grounds for the many headed beast of the English breed of colonialism, and certain folks who were either born and bred there or arrived to find that something was rotten in the state of God Bless the Queen discovered early on that one had to laugh or be forever doomed to cry. And in my case, for whatever reason, Old Thady the narrator proved to be the star that aligned the text with its supplemental material: that introduction that simpered, those footnotes that capered around the unspeakables, and that glossary that knew exactly what misbegotten gore its violently nosy readers were looking for and blandly delivered up everything 18th-century-censorship-worthy in its place. Edgeworth doesn't rise much above the politics of her time, but she does undermine certain complacencies enough to get the average reader thinking, and the whole work is rather ridiculously entertaining without overstaying its welcome that I have to give it more credit than I thought I'd be capable of doing.
Seeing as how I'm a number of years into my dedication to reading women of earlier decades and am in no way tired of the enterprise, I'll likely be returning to Edgeworth rather haphazardly, as I have with a number of other writers whose simple existence during certain periods draws the interest, if rather resignedly at times. Still, reading this piece complicated my previous mental portrait of the author and her writing enough to leave me satisfied with the whole experience, although I won't deny that the whole thing being much shorter than the first time around had been made it that much easier to be content with it all. In any case, I'm not going to recommend this to anyone, what with the uproarious antisemitism slung together with misogyny that forms the heart of certain major parts, but unlike the Wikipedia page for the work, I'm not going to quibble in a baffled manner over the piece proving influential when most readers least expected it. In any case, when the style and the prose and the technique has been done to death by many an imitator and castigated by many a critic, there's a good chance that there will still be settler states in the world cultivating the same dynamics and suicidal impotencies that Edgeworth lampooned (and likely would have lambasted otherwise). Whether writers of those benighted times will look back and draw upon a certain satirical backbone involving an 18th c. English woman writer in Ireland in their own can't-touch-this acrobatics of rhetoric and flair remains to be seen.
