B IRGIT N EUMANN ‘Travels for the Heart’: Practices of Mobility, Concepts of Movement and Constructions of Individuality in Sentimental Travelogues 1. Travel and Sentimentality in 18 th -Century British Culture In 1768, the Monthly Review announced that “Sentimental Travels seem now to be coming into vogue; and, indeed, we shall rejoice to see a final period put to those dull details of post-stages, and churches, and picture-catalogues, with which books of travels heretofore chiefly abounded.” 1 The exploration of affecting human experiences, the powers and limits of sympathy, rather than the enumeration of “dull” tourist sites lies at the heart of the sentimental travelogue. In the sentimental travelogue, practices of mobility gave rise not only to observations of foreign customs and to comparative debates of domestic affairs at home - the typical concern of previous travelogues. 2 Rather, mobility also became a catalyst for the indulgence in sentiment, for the examination of the ever-changing inner states of the subject and, more importantly, for self-reflexive engagements with mobility. Centring around the notion of ‘transport,’ sentimental travelogues are frequently predicated on the close connection between motion and emotion. 3 Moreover, while many previous 18 th -century travellers knew from systematic preparatory reading what they would find on the beaten tracks of Europe, the sentimental traveller was interested in first-hand experiences of the foreign, in transgression, the unknown and various forms of digression. Sentimental travel was therefore intricately bound up with the assertion of individuality, the flaunting of originality and, more specifically, with the formation of middle-class masculinity. In turn, travelling abroad opened up a space onto which the precarious concepts of sensibility and its manifold intersections with the domestically powerful categories of class, gender and national identification could be mapped. 4 1 Monthly Review 39 (1768): 434. My article sets out to explore the complex intersections between mobility, sentimentality and gendered identity in 18 th -century sentimental 2 Katherine Turner, British Travel Writers in Europe 1750-1800. Authorship, Gender, and National Identity (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2001), 51f. 3 James Chandler, “The Languages of Sentiment,” Textual Practice 22.1 (2008): 22. 4 Turner 52. B IRGIT N EUMANN 156 travelogues. Practices of mobility, I argue, are central to the range and the limits of human agency, entailing and, indeed, producing ideologically charged notions of gender, nation and class. The focus of my paper is on the European travelogue. Considering that the 18 th century was an age of global exploration, one could in fact argue that these travelogues were quite restricted in their spatial scope. 5 Imperial explorations and the travel literature they spawned were certainly crucial to English people’s concepts of space and concomitant notions of nation and Britishness. 6 European travelogues, by contrast, could hardly offer their readership the thrill of the new; by the middle of the century Europe was well-travelled and the noteworthy places to be visited by every serious Grand tourist have been described all too often. 7 Yet, perhaps exactly because of the limited geographical scope, the predictable itineraries and the repetitive spatial structure, European travelogues offered manifold opportunities for explorations of the self and for self-conscious engagements with mobility. Indeed, while much of 18 th -century literature concerned with global exploration was deeply steeped in Enlightenment empiricism, the European travelogue evolved into a site for writers to explore the expressive and personalized potentials of autodiegesis: 8 “In this branch of the genre,” Katherine Turner points out, “narrative ingenuity, even authorial oddity, become crucial components of the text’s interest.” 9 Arguably, this interest in narrative ingenuity is especially manifest in the sentimental travelogue because the indulgence in feeling, the display of originality and even the flaunting of eccentricity are typical elements of the genre. It is significant that this emphasis upon individuality and the increasing interiority of experience also affected practices of mobility. The sentimental traveller strategically leaves the beaten tracks of Europe, looking for places where he can cultivate his individuality and parade his sensibility. 10 5 Turner 21. Moreover, he is not so much interested in sites but in the experience of mobility and the surprises of the unknown. In this respect, the new concepts of mobility propelled by sentimental travels do indeed reflect larger cultural changes of an increasingly modern society, in which mobility is experienced as neither necessary nor arbitrary, but as an open process. To understand 6 Kathleen Wilson, “Introduction: Histories, Empires, Modernities,” A New Imperial History, ed. Kathleen Wilson (Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2004), 10. 7 James Buzard, “The Grand Tour and After (1660-1840),” The Cambridge Companion to Travel Writing, eds. Peter Hulme and Tim Young (Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2002), 37- 52. 8 Turner 21. 9 Turner 24. 10 Turner 92. ‘Travels for the Heart’ 157 more fully what is at stake here, I will briefly contextualize the emergence of the sentimental travelogue within 18 th -century British travel literature. If during the first half of the 18 th century, travels to Europe were largely an aristocratic practice and shaped by the ideological assumptions of the classical Grand Tour, during the second half travellers of the middle class explored Europe in increasing numbers. 11 Often, these travels to the Continent followed an established itinerary and were thus structured as a sequence of noteworthy places, which could give order to experience and organize movement. 12 As is well known, many of these travelogues were notorious for their patriotic and xenophobic inclinations. Just think, for instance, of Tobias Smollett’s Travels through France and Italy, in which the stereotypical construction of the French other becomes a powerful means for defining British national character. There was a larger social context and resonance to these patterns of mobility, namely social forces that determined which sights must be seen. The very act of visiting these attractions functioned as a confirmation of a range of social, economic and aesthetic values that, by and large, reinforced the dominant assumptions of the upper class. 13 Like many of his contemporaries, Smollett’s persona seizes almost every opportunity to denigrate the French, among which he believes to have observed “the same spirit of idleness and dissipation […] among every class of people.” 14 In particular, the nature and effects of French tyranny in relation to British liberty and prosperity are a persistent theme of the Travels. Smollett’s persona might indeed be one of many who, as Jeremy Black points out, could return to Britain as “better-informed xenophobes.” 15 To be sure, mobility can promote a heightened tolerance of cultural difference and entail openness to unfamiliar cultures; 16 What Smollett’s and other travelogues of the age show is that travel literature was far from being “straightforwardly about ‘abroad.’” yet, in the 18 th -century, travelling abroad, in particular male and middle-class travelling, was frequently a patriotic endeavour that helped fashion British national identity against the background of what was constructed as typically foreign. 17 11 Turner 55. As a matter of fact, for many authors travel literature provided first and foremost an opportunity to participate in political debates about the internal workings of British 12 Jeremy Black, The British and the Grand Tour (London: Croom Helm, 1985), 4-33. 13 Birgit Neumann, Die Rhetorik der Nation in britischer Literatur und anderen Medien des 18. Jahrhunderts (Trier, WVT, 2009), 130-141. 14 Tobias Smollett, Travels through France and Italy, 1766, ed. Frank Felsenstein (Oxford: Oxford UP, 1979), 49. 15 Black 186. 16 Stephen Greenblatt, “Cultural Mobility: An Introduction,” Cultural Mobility: A Manifesto, eds. Stephen Greenblatt et al. (Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2010), 6. 17 Turner, 10. B IRGIT N EUMANN 158 society - in particular the classand gender-based struggle for political rights in the emerging British nation. 18 Claiming more and more insistently to exemplify ideal notions of Britishness, middle-class writers frequently exploited the genre of travel writing to engage in some of the most hotly debated public issues at a time of constant political change. In her excellent study British Travel Writers in Europe 1750-1800, Katherine Turner has shown that middle-class formulations of nationalist xenophobia were not least a means of challenging the allegedly un-patriotic cosmopolitanism of the British aristocracy and thus for boosting middle-class claims to political supremacy: aristocratic travellers were consistently stigmatized as “effeminate,” while the middle-class traveller was eager to throw into high relief his “manly Britishness.” 19 Because the category of effeminacy was also employed in the imperial context to denigrate non-European others, the European travelogue was instrumental to the imperial projects of the age, ultimately producing the “domestic subject” 20 Around 1770, British travel literature underwent a change: the typically xenophobic accounts of foreign commercial and political culture were complemented and challenged by accounts that explore intercultural encounters and gauge the more personalized realms of manners and morals. The focus was now on morals, the status of women, social institutions, poverty and social inequality, and, of course, on the exploration of inner feelings. of British cosmopolitanism. 21 This shift was congruent with the increasing cultural importance of sensibility and its complex relations to aristocratic and middle-class concepts of virtue, social privilege and moral worth. 22 Broadly speaking, the sentimental travelogue narrows the focus from the objects and sites of the traveller’s observations to the subjective experience of Significantly, the sentimental mode of travelling and the refocusing of theme gave rise to new concepts and patterns of mobility, which also opened up new possibilities for individual and national identification. 18 Turner 10. 19 Turner 19. See also Hunt who stresses: “Middling moralists obsessively identified traits that were alleged to be aristocratic (luxury, interest in things French, lack of application, moral laxity) with softness and effeminacy. Conversely they identified any and all values alleged to be non-aristocratic (plain speaking, usefulness, perseverance in the face of adversity, rationality, systematic pursuit of virtue) with masculinity.” Margaret Hunt, The Middling Sort. Commerce, Gender, and the Family in England, 1680-1780 (Berkeley, Los Angeles, London: U of California P, 1996), 71. 20 Mary Louise Pratt, Imperial Eyes. Travel Writing and Transculturation (London: Routledge, 1992), 4. 21 Turner 29. 22 Robert Markley, “Sentimentality as Performance: Shaftesbury, Sterne and the Theatrics of Virtue,” The New Eighteenth Century. Theory - Politics - English Literature, eds. Felicity Nussbaum and Laura Brown (New York: Methuen, 1987), 212. ‘Travels for the Heart’ 159 travel and mobility. 23 It registers multiple forms of mental and territorial space, of motion and emotion, which cannot be kept apart. In contrast to many earlier 18 th -century travellers, who knew from extensive reading which sites to visit on their continental travels, 24 the sentimental traveller valued unexpected sights and delighted in digressions and sidetracks. The sequence of sights that structured previous travels to the continent is thus transformed into a loose series of personalized encounters and subjective impressions. 25 The sentimental traveller thus embodies a way of moving that is dynamic, non-linear, but not undirected. And while many of the early travellers relied on classical tropes to describe their experiences on foreign soil, the new emphasis on first-hand experience produces more introspective, emotional, playful and self-reflexive forms of travel writing. The exploration of the outside world gradually recedes behind the exploration of the feelings and “the motions of the body.” 26 The sentimental traveller narrates in more and more detail the processes of perception, reflection and discursivisation of experience, which in turn creates and confirms his sense of self. Sentimental travel is therefore also about “the surprise of movement, the sense of not quite knowing where the journey will end or even where it began.” 27 According to this view, travel entails not only the crossing of geographical boundaries but also the crossing of the boundaries of the self, the transgression of limits that invite various forms of destabilization and displacement. The sentimental hero, therefore, writes not only the world, “but also himself from the perspective of the moving individual.” 28 It is not necessary here to give another summary of the discourse of sensibility. Let me just pinpoint some aspects that are pertinent to the analysis of sentimental travelogues. Sensibility, the affective display of benevolence and Reacting against fixed social assumptions, these new practices of mobility destabilized more traditional concepts of identity and authority, replacing stasis and telos with relationality, difference, flexibility and provisionality. 23 Neumann 144. 24 See the following complaint put forward in the Critical Review: “Every one that goes abroad, now a-days, whether for health, or pleasure, for idleness or business, seems to think themselves called upon by the public, to render it a minute account of their occupations, avocations, observations, and lucubrations, during their pilgrimage. Nay some, I have been informed, have so well prepared themselves for this work, before hand, that they have written half their book ere they set out, in order to save themselves the trouble of lugging the one they had copied from, about with them, from state to stage.” The Critical Review 42 (1776): 196. 25 Manfred Pfister, Laurence Sterne (London: Northcote House, 2001), 82. 26 Pfister 73. 27 Greenblatt 18f. 28 Ingo Berensmeyer and Christoph Ehland, “Patterns of Mobility: Introduction,” Anglistentag 2010 Saarbrücken. Proceedings, eds. Joachim Frenk and Lena Steveker (Trier: WVT, 2011), 292. B IRGIT N EUMANN 160 generosity, developed in the early 18 th century as a series of literary and philosophical formations that describe the ways in which middleand upperclass men can act out their ‘natural’ and, by implication, benign, feelings for the benefit of their fellow creatures. Sensibility is, at least partly, a masculinist set of behaviour and attitudes, which, whether consciously or not, relegates women to the status of victims. 29 At the same time, however, the discourse of sensibility mystifies masculine sensitivity as a positive influence, as an expression of a natural sympathy. Moreover, the ideology of sentiment also relies on relatively conservative and maybe, as Robert Markley claims, even essentialist concepts of class relations. Indeed, it often identifies victims of social inequality with a distinctively “feminine powerlessness.” 30 As such, the ideology of sensibility and the new form of bourgeois subjectivity also reflected a certain anxiety about virtue that was no longer primarily located in the public sphere, but in a newly privatized social context, i.e. in the domestic sphere, where men were largely defined by their emotional responses. 31 In what follows, my project is to trace the interfaces but also tensions that existed between the discourse of sentimentality and practices of travelling. Crucial questions for my analysis are the following: (1) How does the increasing emphasis upon individuality and sentimentality impinge on practices of mobility? (2) And, in turn, how does mobility affect the individuality of the sentimental traveller? (3) How is mobility experienced and how does literature give shape to ‘sentimental’ practices of mobility? (4) And - presuming that the narrative of the self is allied with a narrative of the nation - do sentimental practices of mobility give rise to new concepts of national identification? Laurence Sterne’s A Sentimental Journey, published in 1768, is generally credited with being the first sentimental travelogue. Its enthusiastic reception set off a veritable wave of sentimental trips, not only in England but also on the continent. It is this travelogue that will be at the centre of the following analysis of the interplay between mobility and sentimentality. 2. Laurence Sterne’s A Sentimental Journey - Sentimentality as (Imaginative) Mobility One of Yorick’s numerous expositions on his approach to travel is addressed to a French count, whom the traveller-narrator visits at Versailles. Emphati- 29 Markley 212. 30 Markley 212. 31 Susan Manning, “Sensibility,” The Cambridge Companion to English Literature from 1740 to 1830, eds. Thomas Keymer and John Dee (Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2004), 92f. ‘Travels for the Heart’ 161 cally setting himself off from previous travellers, Yorick assures the count that he has “not come to spy the nakedness of the land” (SJ 115) 32 But I could wish, continued I, to spy the nakedness of their hearts, and through the different disguises of customs, climates, and religion, find out what is good in them, to fashion my own by - and therefore am I come. […] It is for this reason, Monsieur le Compte,” continues Yorick, “that I have not seen the Palais royal - nor the Luxembourg - nor the Façade of the Louvre - nor have attempted to swell the catalogues we have of pictures, statues, and churches (SJ 116). ; nor is he interested in the French works of art. What he is interested in are hearts, particularly female hearts: Women and particularly female hearts, Yorick claims, offer more fascinating sights than the usual tourist attractions. Rather than wasting his time visiting and describing once again what has already been visited and described so often, Yorick seeks personal encounters and affective immediacy. Yorick’s narrative is therefore not so much punctuated by ‘sights’; rather, his travels interiorize external events and spaces. Though travelling through France, Yorick’s “road,” as Virginia Woolf put it, leads “often through his own mind, and his chief adventures are with the emotions of his heart.” 33 As many scholars have convincingly argued, Sterne’s sentimentalization of travel is at least partly designed to counter the general xenophobia of many earlier travelogues, such as Smollett’s Travels. Smollett appears in Sterne’s Journey under the soubriquet of the “learned S MELFUNGUS ” (SJ 39), an infamous caricature, together with another, quite bad-humoured traveller, namely “Mundungus” (SJ 41), most likely Samuel Sharp, the author of Letters from Italy (1766). From the very beginning, Yorick’s redefinition of travelling, the attempt to position himself as a ‘sentimental traveller,’ goes hand in hand with a revision of previous practices of mobility, specifically the practice of travelling “straight on” (SJ 41). According to Yorick, xenophobic travellers, such as Smelfungus, simply keep to the beaten track of the Grand Tour, “looking neither to his right hand or his left, lest Love or Pity should seduce him out of his road” (SJ 41). Studying all the sights with eyes “discoloured and distorted” by “the spleen and jaundice” (SJ 39), the xenophobic traveller even carps at the Pantheon and the Venus de Medicis. Predictably, all such a traveller can come up with is “the account of his miserable feelings” and of sights all too well-known. Yorick, however, is a traveller of a different kind, “altogether of a different cast from any of [his] fore-runners” (SJ 16), as he 32 Laurence Sterne, A Sentimental Journey through France and Italy and Continuation of the Bramine’s Journal, 1768, eds. Melvyn New and W.G. Day (Indianapolis: Hackett, 2006). In the following A Sentimental Journey will be abbreviated to SJ and references will be given directly in the text. 33 Virginia Woolf, “The Sentimental Journey,” The Common Reader: Second Series (London: Hogarth, 1932), 36. B IRGIT N EUMANN 162 proudly puts it. Not so much the world, but the capacity of the world to stir his sensations and affect his body motivates his travels: “I declare,” proclaims Yorick, “that was I in a desart, I would find out wherewith in it to call forth my affections” (SJ 39). Rather than aiming at the neutrality of the detached and isolated observer, which was the ideal promoted by the Royal Society and realized in many earlier 18 th -century travelogues, 34 Yorick seeks interaction, “affective response,” 35 From the very beginning, A Sentimental Journey satirically questions the conventional understanding of travel as being designed to gather useful knowledge, thereby also taking issue with aristocratic concepts of travel, their emphasis upon classical learning and concomitant notions of male authority and gentlemanly superiority. In classical travelogues, most famously in Addison’s Remarks on Several Parts of Italy (1705), the mastery of the foreign culture, i.e. its appropriation and incorporation into classical learning, emerged as a crucial precondition of cultivated manliness. The adaptation of “the twofold position of classical author and modern observer” reciprocity and immediate pleasure. Mobility, in the sentimental travelogue, thus becomes multidimensional, functioning as a catalyst of the exploration of highly personalized and interactional spaces. 36 offered the traveller occasion to appropriate the objects of his sight and recontextualise them within a narrative of the self that was closely linked to a narrative of the British nation. 37 Although Yorick also encodes masculinity in the language of the subject, 38 I am of opinion, That a man would act as wisely, if he could prevail upon himself to live contented without foreign knowledge or foreign improvements, especially if he lives in a country that has no absolute want of either - and indeed, much grief of heart has it oft and many a time cost me, when I have observed how many a foul step the inquisitive Traveller has measured to see sights and look into discoveries; all which, as Sancho Pança said to Don Quixote, they might have seen dryshod at home. […] - Where then, my dear countrymen, are you going - (SJ 17). he programmatically challenges the identity-forming capacities of classical learning. In contemplating the chances of obtaining “useful knowledge and real improvements” (SJ 16) from travel, he declares: 34 Jonathan Crary, Techniques of the Observer: On Vision and Modernity in the Nineteenth Century (Cambridge, MA: MIT Press, 1990), 38. 35 Peter de Bolla, “The Visibility of Visuality,” Vision in Context, eds. Teresa Brennan and Martin Jay (London: Routledge, 1996), 69. 36 Susanne Scholz, “The Rites of Gentlemen: Englishness, Masculinity and the Grand Tour,” Anglistentag 2001. Proceedings, eds. Dieter Katovsky et al. (Trier: WVT, 2001), 331. 37 Scholz 331. 38 Penelope Wilson, “Classical Poetry and the Eighteenth-Century Reader,” Books and their Readers in Eighteenth-Century England, ed. Isabel Rivers (Leicester: Leicester UP, 1982), 71. ‘Travels for the Heart’ 163 This final question is addressed to two Englishmen who have approached the carriage to find out why it had been thrown into motion. As a matter of fact, the carriage had been thrown in motion because of Yorick’s agitation upon writing his preface. Apparently, in the sentimental travelogue, mobility and movement do not merely concern the distances traversed by travellers; rather, quite literally, they refer to the capacity of being moved. If Yorick’s journey can still be classified as a Bildungsreise, its aim is indeed not the accumulation of facts but a sentimental education. 39 Time and again, A Sentimental Journey capitalizes on the close connection between motion and emotion and, taking up Adam Smith’s (1759; Theory of Moral Sentiments) account of imaginative sympathy, figures “the practice of sympathy as a kind of imaginative mobility.” Hence, he explains to the Count de B****: “’tis a quiet journey of the heart in pursuit of N ATURE , and those affections which arise out of her, which make us love each other - and the world, better than we do” (SJ 117). 40 In line with Smith’s understanding of feeling as being founded on mobility, A Sentimental Journey stages “a paradoxical play between, on the one hand, the virtual representation of sentiments occasioned by actual travel and, on the other, the actual exercise of virtual travel in sentiment.” 41 As James Chandler has shown, much of the allure of the sentimental travelogue lies in the way Sterne fuses the themes of travel and affection. 42 Central to this entanglement is the figure of the vehicle, which relates to both the realm of transportation and the experience of communication. In this respect, it is crucial to note just how closely Yorick’s sentimental adventures and the ensuing emotional economy are interconnected with the chosen means of transportation, arguably a mobile space in its own right. 43 Contrary to most travellers, Yorick did not take his own carriage to Europe 44 39 Pfister 81. but looks for an appropriate vehicle in France. From the beginning Yorick seeks a vehicle that is in “tolerable harmony with [his] feelings” (SJ 40 Chandler 26. 41 Chandler 26. 42 It is in this context that Yorick’s famous paean to sensibility can best be understood: “Dear sensibility! source inexhausted of all that’s precious in our joys, or costly in our sorrows! […] external fountain of our feelings! - ‘tis here I trace thee - and this is thy divinity which stirs within me - not that, in some sad and sickening moments, ‘my soul shrinks back upon herself, and startles at destruction’ - mere pomp of words! - but that I feel some generous joys and generous cares beyond myself - all comes from thee, great - great Sensorium of the world! , which vibrates, if a hair of our heads falls upon the ground” (SJ 162-63). The passage is a description of what it means to be moved by sentimentality and how this in-between state relates to the capacity of moving beyond ourselves. Cf. Chandler 25. 43 Danielle Bobker, “Carriages, Conversation, and A Sentimental Journey,” Studies in Eighteenth-Century Culture 35 (2006): 248. 44 Black 51. B IRGIT N EUMANN 164 12). Barely arrived in Calais, Yorick spots a somewhat run-down chaise, a Desobligeant (literally meaning ‘antisocial’), which “hit[s his] fancy at first sight” (SJ 12). Following the footsteps of “many a peripatetic philosopher” (SJ 13), he gets into this single-seater vehicle and starts to compose his preface. The preface he then writes in the stationary vehicle is dry and pseudoscientific, largely driven by taxonomic principles. 45 Seeking to classify different “causes of travelling” (SJ 14), he soon finds himself distinguishing between various types of travellers, thus flimsily switching the terms of comparison. Acknowledging the awkwardness of his preface, he is convinced that “it would have been better […] in a Vis a Vis” (SJ 17). It is clear, then, that the Desobligeant and Vis à Vis not only refer to different coach models but are intricately bound up with questions of sociability, communication and interpersonal experience: while the Desobligeant makes contact with other people nearly impossible, the Vis à Vis, etymologically sharing roots with vision and visage, allows for mutual observation and conversation, for intimate, albeit semi-public interaction with strangers, for temporary and incidental close-up encounters. 46 According to Douglas Patey, face-to-face contact and the sympathy it enables were central to the dynamics of the sentimental that emerged in the second half of the 18 th century. 47 Approximately the next dozen vignettes, some of which take place in the Remise, i.e. the magazine of carriages, are concerned with Yorick’s search for an appropriate vehicle for his journey. If therefore, Yorick’s journey is indeed meant to be a sentimental education, then he will have to leave the spatial confines of the Desobligeant. 48 45 Tanya Radford, “Seeing Feeling and Frustrating Reading in Laurence Sterne’s A Sentimental Journey,” Word and Image in the Long Eighteenth Century: An Interdisciplinary Dialogue, ed. Christina Ionescu (Newcastle: Cambridge Scholars, 2008), 160. Upon his second attempt at finding a vehicle for his journey, Yorick sees “another old tatter’d Desobligeant” (SJ 34). But, having become well aware of his sentimental preoccupations, he now approaches it almost reluctantly, admitting: “[N]otwithstanding it was the exact picture of that which had hit my fancy so much in the coach-yard but an hour before - the very sight of it stirr’d up a disagreeable sensation within me now; and I thought ‘twas a churlish beast into whose heart the idea could first enter, to construct such as machine” (SJ 34). Little wonder that the carriage that Yorick eventually buys is not a Desobligeant, but one that is big enough to seat two persons, a carriage that invites flirtation and close-up contact. Tellingly, this vehicle is the setting of his first flirtation with a French lady, Madame de L***, and seems to be ideally suited to enjoy circu- 46 Bobker 246. 47 Douglas Lane Patey, Probability and Literary Form: Philosophic Theory and Literary Practice in the Augustan Age (Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 1984). 48 Chandler 29. ‘Travels for the Heart’ 165 lating desire and “lust in transit.” 49 Rather than inviting solitary speculation and classification, the second, more sociable carriage offers Yorick a space in which he can indulge in the “erotics of mobile proximity,” 50 permitting him to respond to subtle movements, words and gestures 51 and thus to write the kind of sentimental narrative that is shaped by emotionally alluring sights and stimulating physical encounters. 52 Indeed, coaches in the 18 th century were heavily charged with erotic associations and had a notorious reputation as hotbeds for flirtation. Many male commentators were thrilled by the spectatorial possibilities of the coach and the physical closeness it allowed, envisioning the stage-coach journey as an opportunity for sensational seduction. The German satirist Georg Christoph Lichtenberg saw in English stage-coach journeys first and foremost an occasion for “a dangerous exchange of glances but often also for a scandalous entanglement of legs causing a giggling in both parties and a confusion of souls and thought.” 53 Given the emphasis upon subjectivity, it is not surprising that Yorick chafes at the constraints of established itineraries, which used to structure travels to the continent. The close association of stage-coaches with flirtation is also suggested by “A Sentimental Journey, by a Lady,” a short piece in The Lady’s Magazine from 1770, which graphically depicts a stage-coach journey of “two women and a Frenchman” as a compilation of asterisks. Yorick’s encounter with Madame de L*** evokes these associations, delicately enforcing the reputation of the carriage as a vehicle for lovemaking. 54 The sentimental traveller strategically disrupts seemingly fixed paths. Perspective, perception, digression and coincidence become the crucial trajectories of his experiences abroad, thus also countering the ideal of a disinterested contemplation, which was central to early 18 th century epistemologies and constructions of male authority. 55 Yorick’s itinerary through France is essentially guided by affection and accordingly, “his movements respond to his being moved.” 56 49 Bobker 252. His indulgence in sentimental feeling disrupts the linear teleology of travel and thus ultimately de-centres prevalent mental topographies of France, topographies that, for British readers, were largely predicated on the established itinerary of the Grand Tour. Though Yorick still follows the trend of Continental travels to move from North to South, he constantly allows himself to leave the beaten tracks and to 50 Bobker 254. 51 Bobker 253. 52 Radford 162. 53 Lichtenberg quoted in Bobker 255. 54 Pfister 81. 55 Scholz 333. 56 Chandler 26. B IRGIT N EUMANN 166 be sidetracked by curiosity, coincidence and desire. 57 He even concedes that “there is a fatality in it - I seldom go to the place I set out for” (SJ 78). The constant digressions disrupt any sense of directed progress, up to the point where Yorick breaks off his travels before actually arriving in Italy - the ultimate destination of his trip. Samuel Johnson once remarked that “[a] man who has not been in Italy, is always conscious of an inferiority, from his not having seen what it is expected a man should see.” 58 That Yorick never makes it to Italy does not do harm to his masculinity; rather, his break with established spatial practices hints at the development of continental travels from a study of conventional sights to a narrative of personal adventure, subjective introspection and dynamic, non-linear movement. According to Manfred Pfister, “Yorick drifts, rather than travels across France” 59 Space, then, is not simply a fixed setting in which to move around; rather, the sentimental traveller creates his own space “in relation to himself by means of his movements.” and so, as Yorick declares, “interests his heart in every thing, and […], having eyes to see, what time and chance are perpetually holding out to him as he journeyeth on his way, misses nothing he can fairly lay his hands on” (SJ 38-39). 60 The sentimental traveller’s gaze therefore has to adapt to a situation quite differently from the classical perspective. Although Yorick, in line with the Enlightenment notion of empirical verification by eye-sight, still embraces the mind’s capacity to turn sight into object, 61 The 18 th century has frequently been characterized as a period “obsessed with questions concerning spectatorial comportment and behaviour.” subject and object of the visual relation are conceived as dynamic and mobile. It has to accommodate abrupt shifts and unexpected changes in the visual field. Thus Yorick can state: “I count little of the many things I see pass at broad noon day, in large and open streets. - Nature is shy, and hates to act before spectators; but in such an unobserved corner, you sometimes see a single short scene of her’s worth all the sentiments of a dozen French plays compounded together” (SJ 148). 62 According to the Royal Society, the traveller is first and foremost a spectator and, as such, should turn his gaze to unresponsive objects. 63 57 Chloe Chard, “Introduction,” Transports: Travel, Pleasure, and Imaginative Geography, 1600-1830, eds. Chloe Chard and Helen Langdon (New Haven: Yale UP, 1996), 15; Pfister 82. Jonathan Crary’s 58 James Boswell, The Life of Samuel Johnson. Vol. 3 (London: Baldwin, 1799), 34. 59 Pfister 82. 60 Berensmeyer and Ehland 292. 61 Scholz 331. 62 de Bolla 74. 63 Christian Huck, “Seeing other People? Travel, Writing and the Senses,” Anglistentag 2008 Tübingen. Proceedings, eds. Lars Eckstein and Christoph Reinfandt (Trier: WVT, 2009), 229. ‘Travels for the Heart’ 167 (1990) analysis of 19 th -century visual culture famously contrasts the subjectivized and embodied vision he deems typical of the age with an earlier ‘scopic regime’ that, much like the camera obscura, strives to passively reflect the visual outside world. Crary associates this earlier visual attitude with “objectivity” and “suppression of subjectivity.” 64 Objective viewing only functions if the embodied subjectivity of the viewer is erased and the movement of deixis in the perceived objects is actively negated. Yet passages such as the one quoted above suggest that, far from being pervasive in the 18 th century, this objective observation was challenged by a form of vision that favoured sensitivity, responsiveness, affective immediacy and expressiveness. 65 Such a “sentimental vision” 66 includes the physical body of the viewer into acts of seeing and relies on a connection between practices of seeing and emotional engagement. 67 Crucial to the relation of motion and emotion is, of course, Sterne’s refashioning of the picaresque mode, which he connects to the ethical premises of the sentimental novel. Hence, it tries to see through the external and the superficial and seeks to establish an emotionally charged relation between the viewer and an object, frequently other people’s suffering. 68 The Spanish picaresque novels - from Lazarillo de Tormes (1553) to Cervantes’ Don Quixote (1605) - provided the blueprint for translating narrative and adventure into a road show, i.e., into “a loosely organized series of adventures along a road that does not follow a predetermined route, takes surprising or seemingly random turns and brings the traveller in contact with characters from all walks of life.” 69 To be sure, as a sentimental traveller, Yorick is not characterized by the classical rogue’s cunning. 70 Yorick is, however, at least in some occasions, a picaresque hero, who takes delight in drifting from place to place, in surprises, the unexpected and the comic. 71 His purpose is less to reach a destination but to seek distraction and digression. Travelling abroad, he consciously gives up the security he enjoys at home to get involved into ever new “adventures” (SJ 25, 38), as he repeatedly points out. 72 Yet, at the same time, A Sentimental Journey refashions the picaresque narrative by reformulating the picaro’s travels in terms of the discourse of sensibility, the ‘sensorium of the world,’ and the soul. 73 64 Crary 9. Sentimentality is thus also to be understood as the capacity to go beyond our- 65 Radford 155. 66 de Bolla 70. 67 Radford 157. 68 Chandler 25. 69 Pfister 83. 70 Pfister 83. 71 Markley 228. 72 Pfister 83. 73 Chandler 26. B IRGIT N EUMANN 168 selves, i.e., as “a kind of imaginative mobility.” 74 In A Sentimental Journey, practices of mobility thus effectively challenge the sentimental cliché of the priority of private spaces by thrusting the hero into a foreign world. 75 Rather than keeping his distance from the other and contending himself with sweeping generalizations about the French, Yorick persistently seeks “contact, communication and communion” 76 with the people he meets. The numerous ‘grissets’ and ‘filles de chambre,’ monks, peasants, Madame de L*** and the Marquesina di F***, the poor Friar Lorenzo, Maria’s little dog and the captive starling - they engage Yorick’s affections and give him an opportunity to perform the power of sympathy and thus to demonstrate his moral worth. To a certain extent, one can indeed argue that the sentimental travelogue substitutes the aristocratic practice of collecting art by the “middle-class commodification of sentiment,” 77 a shift which can be seen as a reflection of the rise of commercial values towards the middle of the century. Sentimental vision allows the traveller to assert his status as a British consumer of foreign spectacle, mostly the spectacle of the suffering of the poor and innocent. Broadly speaking, this vision represents “distance appropriated,” 78 i.e. it enables the observer to identify the objects of his pity, endow them with subjective meaning and recontextualise them within his narrative of personal identity. The other is thus placed “within an intimate distance; space is transformed into interiority, into ‘personal’ space.” 79 This consumerist acquisitiveness (or voyeuristic consumption), which divorces the objects of sight from their context, is, as Susan Stewart has put it in a different context, “symptomatic of the more general cultural imperialism that is tourism’s stock in trade.” 80 It is clear, then, that sensibility in A Sentimental Journey can hardly be viewed “in terms of selfless philanthropic engagement.” 81 Although Yorick constantly emphasizes human fellowship across borders and the “great - great Sensorium of the world” (SJ 163), he persistently flaunts cultural differences and parades his national identity. Travelling to France offers Yorick ever new occasions for pitting his own British identity against what he constructs as distinctively French. 82 74 Chandler 26. The French, as he explains in a conversation about national character with the Count de B***, may be “the most polish’d 75 Markley 228. 76 Pfister 82. 77 Turner 90. 78 Susan Stewart, On Longing: Narratives of the Miniature, the Gigantic, the Souvenir, the Collection (Durham, NC: Duke UP, 1993), 147. 79 Stewart 147. 80 Stewart 147. 81 Thomas Keymer, A Sentimental Journey and the Failure of Feeling (Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2009), 90. 82 Pfister 78. ‘Travels for the Heart’ 169 people in the world” (SJ 114), and they may even be “renown’d for sentiment and fine feelings” (SJ 4). Yet their sentiments, according to Yorick, are more a matter of social convention than of true feelings. And the French are without a doubt polished and polite, but “to an excess” (SJ 125) that runs counter to “the politesse de cœur, which inclines men more to humane actions, than courteous ones” (SJ 125). By contrast, the English, according to Yorick, still display “that distinct variety and originality of character, which distinguishes them, not only from each other, but from all the world besides” (SJ 126). Thus, although A Sentimental Journey does derive much of its appeal from its emphasis on universal humanity, Yorick also uses the discourse of sentimentality to stage a distinctively British singularity or eccentricity. 83 The sentimentalization of travelling is indeed no guarantee for escaping the snares of xenophobic nationalism, however much its figuration, narration and dramatization have become associated with alternative models of identification. It is crucial to note that the parading of Yorick’s singularity has a political dimension, for it serves to highlight the political liberty of Britain, upon which the myth of individuality relies. The emphasis upon British individuality celebrates genuinely middle-class formulations of national distinctiveness and thus works against the presumed anonymity of aristocratic cosmopolitanism. 84 Thus, while his cultivation of individuated relationships stresses the integrity of the individual and at times even promotes an egalitarian pathos, Yorick also makes it clear that the British sentimental traveller enjoys a unique position, thanks to his sensibility and political freedom, to indulge in such individuality. 85 If travel is about moving, then the travelogue is about translating practices of mobility into narrative, thus transforming the spectator position into a position of narrative authority. 86 However, the sentimental aesthetics of mobility, the meandering and drifting, the digressions and transgressions resist translation into any linear narration. The sentimental traveller’s patterns of mobility find their most suitable reflection in the fragmentary, provisional structure that is characteristic of many sentimental travelogues. “The sentimental text,” Pfister points out, “is by the very nature fragmented and episodic - a series of momentary transports and frictions rather than a continuous plot.” 87 83 Pfister 78. This sentimental aesthetics of mobility has a critical thrust, for it questions concepts of (narrative) progress and (Whiggish) teleology. Even though Yorick implicitly defines his travels as a Bildungsreise, which aims at the improvement of his manners (“I […] shall learn better manners as 84 Turner 97. 85 Turner 92. 86 Scholz 331. 87 Pfister 98. B IRGIT N EUMANN 170 I get along,” SJ 11), his meandering never morphs into the “teleological trajectory of a Bildungsroman.” 88 In this respect, the reinscription of the sentimental novel in the picaresque mode is indeed suggestive because it hints at the fact that sensibility cannot be reconciled with notions of moral improvement and socioeconomic progress promoted by the Whiggish ideology (e.g. of Addison, Steele, Locke). 89 Ultimately, Yorick’s travels can reach no destination; all they can provide is a “repetitive tableau” 90 of sentimental gestures. It is therefore perfectly fitting that the last episode in Yorick’s journey again takes him on a sidetrack when a rock blocks his way between St Michael and Madane. The sentimental journey comes to a halt, but remains a fragment: it ends just as it has begun, namely as a fragment in the middle of a sentence. 91 3. A Sentimental Journey as a Travelling Text In terms of structure, then, the sentimental travelogue works against measure and teleological narratives of progress, illustrating that there is indeed nothing necessary about specific practices of mobility. And maybe this is one of the most important cultural contributions of the sentimental travelogue to the spatial imaginary: to embrace the fragmentary and to resist the lure of teleological closure. Works of art, such as Sterne’s travelogue, are not just artifacts, but also agents. The cultural power of Sterne’s fictional travel account manifests itself forcefully in its influence on cultural patterns of mobility: Sterne’s travelogue is not only about travel, rather it is also a travelling text itself, i.e. a text that has been translated into many different cultural contexts and appropriated to different ends. The enthusiastic reception of A Sentimental Journey, also propelled by William Holland’s highly popular compilation The Beauties of Sterne (1782), set off a veritable wave of sentimental trips through Europe and a tide of imitations, which did not cease until the early 19 th century. The widespread circulation of the travelogue is expressed by Matthew Carey, who noted in 1810 that “few works, if any, were ever received with more unbounded applause, than the Sentimental Journey. Its circulation was immense. It produced a revolution in the public taste.” 92 88 Pfister 98. The influence of Sterne’s sentimental journey on the spatial imaginary is also pointed out by the Monthly 89 Markley 229. 90 Markley 229. 91 Pfister 98. 92 Carey quoted in W.B. Gerard, “’Betwixt One Passion and Another’: Continuations of Laurence Sterne’s A Sentimental Journey, 1769-1820,” On Second Thought: Updating the Eighteenth-Century Text, eds. Debra Taylor Bourdeau and Elizabeth Kraft (Newark: U of Delaware P, 2007), 124. ‘Travels for the Heart’ 171 Review in 1779: “Trips, and Tours, and Excursions, and Sentimental Journeys, are become so much the ton, that every rambler, who can write (tolerably or intolerably) assumes the pen, and gives the Public a journal of the occurrences and remarks to which his peregrinations have given birth.” 93 The cultural potential of Sterne’s travelogue to shape concepts of mobility is therefore not only located in itself. Rather, it also results from its reception, including all the appreciative commentaries, parodies and imitations it has given rise to. Together, these undeniably provided powerful cultural frames for patterns and concepts of mobility. 94 In Great Britain, over forty continuations of A Sentimental Journey had been published by 1810. 95 Frequently, these continuations were primarily concerned with either erotic ‘cases of delicacy’ 96 or with matters of style, ignoring the text’s profound engagement with concepts of mobility, individuality and otherness. 97 The Critical Review criticizes a 1788 continuation for its abundant use of “breaks, and dashes, and scanty pages, in all which the imitator infinitely exceeds the original.” 98 What emerges from these travelogues is a powerful association of motion with emotion, of movement and being moved, of sensibility with Britishness and (mostly middle-class) masculinity. The sentimental performances of travelling are translated into a narrative of self, which is closely linked to a narrative of the British nation, envisioning the imagined community as a community of British gentlemen endowed with a superior sensibility. Signifi- Other appropriations, such as Samuel Paterson’s travel narrative Another Traveller! (published in 1768 and 1769, under the pseudonym ‘Coriat Junior’), Patrick Brydone’s A Tour through Sicily and Malta (2 vols., 1773), Thomas Cogan’s John Buncle, Junior, Gentleman (1776-8), Samuel Jackson Pratt’s Travels for the Heart. Written in France (2 vols., 1777) and the unsigned 1782 essay “The Oxonian’s Sentimental Trip to London” tap the possibilities of sentimental travel more creatively, i.e. use it for negotiations of class, gender and nation. What we find in most of these travelogues are the typical ‘sentimental’ patterns of mobility, i.e. frequent disruptions of linear and teleological movement that give way to digressions, coincidence and seemingly random encounters with humble foreigners (frequently idealized objects of pity). 93 Monthly Review 60 (1779): 191. 94 The anonymous author of Observations in a Journey to Paris, 1776 (2 vols., 1777), for instance, compares his visit of the Franciscan chapel at Calais with Yorick’s experiences. 95 Gerard 124. 96 See John Hall-Stevenson’s Yorick’s Sentimental Journey, Continued (1769), whose first chapter is titled “The Case of Delicacy, compleated .” John Hall-Stevenson, Yorick’s Sentimental Journey, Continued. To which is Prefixed, Some Account of the Life and Writings of Mr. Sterne (London: Bladon, 1769). 97 Turner 101. 98 The Critical Review 66 (1788): 584. B IRGIT N EUMANN 172 cantly, then, the “moving spectacle” 99 of sympathy and benevolence leaves the assumption of British superiority largely intact. Poverty, social inequality and the suffering of others are not depicted “as the result of any specific economic or political conditions, any authoritarian strategies of repression.” 100 Rather, they are mainly presented as opportunities to demonstrate the natural virtue of British travellers. One could argue that sentimentality, which enabled British gentlemen to stage their individuality in terms of (upward social) mobility, relies on the social immobilization of others, namely of the idealized objects of sentimental pity. 101 4. Female Travellers and Commonsensical Britishness Indeed, this might be one reason why travelling was so popular among ‘men of feeling’: Abroad, the traveller’s agency is necessarily limited and these restraints also free him from the responsibility of actively tackling social injustices and questioning his role in the economic and political system. The association of mobility with sentimentality, middle-class masculinity and sexual sympathy posed particular challenges for female travellers, who began to publish their travel experiences in increasing numbers from the 1770s onwards. 102 Women travel writers were well aware of the restrictions that the discourse of sentimentality - in alliance with the torrent of conduct books and normative gender codes - imposed upon them. Inevitably, these writers were deeply concerned with the question of who can travel and on what terms, thus discussing their mobility within a framework of social in/ stability. Most female travellers felt compelled to apologize for the very act of travelling. 103 99 Pfister 91. Mary Ann Hanway, for instance, who travelled to the Western Islands of Scotland, tries to compensate for her mobility by repeatedly stressing the fixity or stability of her mind, thus attempting to strike a balance between mobility and immobility. She claims that however far she travels, her “mind still remains untraveled, and clings fondly to that dear, 100 Markley 211. 101 See Markley 227-8, who points out: “The theatrics of sentimental virtue preclude any action to alleviate the suffering of the poor beyond doling out money and selfconsciously recording the amount to keep one’s accounts in order in the ‘divine’ ledger book of bourgeois morality. In this sense, sentimental travel also served the interests of the male middle class, by dissimulating societal contradictions and pretending to sympathize with social outsiders in an increasingly exclusionary society. 102 Turner 19. Typically, conduct books criticized women’s passion for travelling and condemned it as a threat to social stability, domestic bliss and national virtue. 103 Birgit Neumann, “Gender und Nation in britischen Reiseberichten des 18. Jahrhunderts,” Germanisch-Romanische Monatsschrift 58 (2008): 415. ‘Travels for the Heart’ 173 and domestic circle whom we have left over our own fire-sides.” 104 For her, mobility and travel are clearly transgressions, which need to be justified, or even imaginatively neutralized, by stressing her constant concern with the domestic sphere and her female virtue. 105 What is more: whereas most British male travellers employed the discourse of sentimentality to openly flaunt their individuality and thus exploited mobility for an often theatricalized performance of identity, female travel writers in the 1770s frequently attempted to suppress their subjectivity and to adopt the more detached perspective of an observer. Rather than embracing the reciprocity and affective immediacy of sentimental vision, female travel writers remained safely in the distant position and re-shifted the focus on the description of an exterior space. Attempting to impose order on the objects observed and describing them in a rather rational, matter-of-fact style, women travel writers of the 1770s, such as Anne Miller and Hanway, indeed “assert[…] a middle ground of reliable, commonsensical British womanhood” 106 and thus embrace attitudes that were previously encoded as typically ‘male.’ Cutting across binary distinctions of mobility and immobility, femininity and masculinity, these texts remind us of the very conflictedness of cultures of mobility and “the unequal politics of movement.” 107 They thus highlight that the role of travelogues and concomitant patterns of mobility in shaping concepts of British identities was indeed protean and multifaceted. 108 Female travelogues and female practices of mobility are a topic for a different paper. 109 Yet it would be wrong to exclude them from the discussion of mobility in sentimental travelogues. It would equally be wrong to understand them as the odd counterpart of male travelogues, as the “anomalous travellers in the public sphere.” 110 What 18 th -century female travelogues can remind us of is that mobility and its narrativization entail ideologically charged notions of gender, nation, class and religion, which bear on “the range and the limits of […] agency.” 111 104 Mary Ann Hanway, A Journey to the Highlands of Scotland. With Occasional Remarks on Dr. Johnson’s Tour: By a Lady (London: Fielding and Walke, 1776), vi. By examining the largely marginalized concepts and patterns of mobility that we find in specific 18 th -century 105 It might well be that these apologetic gestures have a pragmatic dimension, designed to neutralize anticipated criticism. 106 Turner 128. 107 Renate Brosch, “Moving Images - Mobile Viewers. Conceptualising Ways of Seeing in the Context of Mobility,” Moving Images - Mobile Viewers. 20 th Century Visuality, ed. Renate Brosch (Berlin: Lit, 2009), 15. 108 Turner 242. 109 For a very good overview see Turner, chapter 4. 110 Sara Mills, Discourse of Difference. An Analysis of Women’s Travel Writing and Colonialism (London: Routledge, 1991), 107. 111 Hans Ulrich Gumbrecht, “The Roads of the Novel,” The Novel. Vol. 2. Forms and Themes, ed. Franco Moretti (Princeton: Princeton UP, 2006), 614. B IRGIT N EUMANN 174 travelogues, it becomes possible to reveal the dynamics and contradictions inherent in the era’s political landscape, which is not simply a static background against which mobility can be perceived, but an arena of active and conflicting forces. ‘Travels for the Heart’ 175 Works Cited Berensmeyer, Ingo, and Christoph Ehland. “Patterns of Mobility: Introduction.” Anglistentag 2010 Saarbrücken. Proceedings. Eds. Joachim Frenk and Lena Steveker. Trier: WVT, 2011. 291-96. Black, Jeremy. The British and the Grand Tour. London: Croom Helm, 1985. 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