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3.21 AVERAGE
3.21 AVERAGE
adventurous
challenging
emotional
funny
reflective
sad
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
Plot
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
adventurous
informative
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
Complicated
Diverse cast of characters:
N/A
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
YES DONE THANK GOODNESS.
It was far better than Robinson Crusoe and pretty funny at times. However, if I didn't have to read it for university, I wouldn't have read it voluntarily.
It was far better than Robinson Crusoe and pretty funny at times. However, if I didn't have to read it for university, I wouldn't have read it voluntarily.
This was a good read overall. The beginning was gripping, the middle a bit of a slog, and the ending satisfying in that I finally understood that this wasn't as simple a morality tale as I'd supposed as I read it. What's interesting about this book is that it's supposed to represent one of the first novels—and it shows. There are no chapters, but only page headings that tell you what will happen next; most notably "Happy Prospects" and then, on the next page, "Widowed and Helpless." Years go by in a few sentences, and almost all characters are unnamed or referred to generally by a descriptive term only ("my governness," "my Lancashire husband").
The remainder of this review discusses the book in its entirety.
The remainder of this review discusses the book in its entirety.
The story has so many episodes it's hard to summarize. Moll is born effectively orphaned, as her mother is sent to Newgate upon her birth, and she is raised by an old woman paid by the state. She is determined from the beginning not to be demeaned by work and wants to be a "Gentlewoman." She marries 4 times: once to the brother of her first lover, then to her brother by blood (unbeknownst to her) whom she lives with in Virginia, then to her Lancashire husband (who she marries expecting a fortune only to find that he married her for her supposed fortune), and finally to a banker who manages a divorce from his adulterous wife in order to marry Moll. When she gets too old for marriage and her banker husband dies, she turns, for many years, to petty crime, stealing watches, linen, and twice acting as mistress to married men ("whoring"). She becomes one of the most notorious thieves in London, and is finally caught and sent to Newgate, presumably to die. She half-repents there (she reflects that it was not a true repentance because she no longer had any option to steal) and a priest takes pity on her and gets her transported to America instead of hanged. She arranges to go with her Lancashire husband, who she meets with again in Newgate and learns has also been a criminal for 25 years, even before he met her. On her second trip back to America, she meets with the son she had by her brother (her brother is "half-dead" and mostly blind; she does not speak to him) and finds that she has come into an inheritance from her birth mother of an entire plantation. The profits from this, together with the plantation she makes with her husband and the funds from her thieving days, means she retires quite wealthy, penitent, and presumably happy back in England.
Throughout the narrative Moll refers to the reason she has written this narrative: as a warning against vice and a guiding light towards virtue. The introduction to the book talks a lot about how the book is an exercise in reflecting back upon past actions, trying to make sense of them, and how Moll is trying to perhaps make her actions belatedly sympathetic or penitential. But I'd go a step further and argue that what Defoe shows is that Moll is never really penitent. Even at the end, Moll acts just as she always has done: according to necessity. By the end of the book, she has merely put herself in a position where she can no longer or no longer needs to behave in such a way as would necessitate penitence––she is too old to steal, cannot have children, and is rich.
First, the book presents Moll's life as a slow decline into greater and greater vice, until she is reduced to actual criminality and prostitution. But, after all, is there really that much difference between her seeking out men for their money and later being a prostitute? The difference I see is her options: she tries to marry when she's young, and steals when she's older merely because she is no longer beautiful enough to marry. It's true that she continues to steal past the point that she needs to, and Moll claims that she stops because of her penitence for her past actions, but I think she stops because she finally gets caught. Moll puts a nice gloss of guilt and reflection on her actions, but in the end she is mostly reactionary. We can also see this in the way she acts after coming to America with her Lancashire husband. She still lies to everyone as it suits her, including her own son when she does not tell him she has remarried and, most unnecessarily, when she gives him a gold watch that, by the by, is stolen.
She may repent her past life, but she has no qualms about using her dirty money to fund her retirement of virtue. She remembers her son only because she runs into him again––she never even mentions her numerous other children ever again, including the child she gave up to be taken care of in the country and whom, we assume, she funded throughout its childhood. And what about her brother-husband? It's almost like an extreme version of the prodigal son: he who lived a virtuous life (as most of her husbands did, and who otherwise unfailingly died early for all their trouble) went half insane when he found he was in an incestuous marriage, went mostly blind by old age, and, though he raised his son and supported his mother, yet was not given the inheritance (or love!) Moll swooped in and sucked up after an absence of 20 years. All the villains in the story (Moll, the Lancashire Husband, and Moll's governness) end up happy in old age, while their honest compatriots rot in the ground (excepting petty thieves all hanged at Newgate): how's that for a morality tale?
But Moll is a sensitive and reflective person, and it's impossible not to sympathize with her. We are complicit in her adventures by reading them and wanting her to succeed, even when that success is in crime. Moll's conversion is the least compelling part of the story, as she herself acknowledges in the text, and I think that's the point. The text reads surprisingly modern for how old it is, and Moll is one of the more compelling female characters I have ever read.
Some parts were alright. I appreciated the setting and the old style writing. Particularly because it wasn't modern trying to be old, it really just was that old.
I had to really push myself to get through it though, reading at the gym. I can say I'm glad I'm done with it.
I had to really push myself to get through it though, reading at the gym. I can say I'm glad I'm done with it.
Sorry, just so-so for me. Is it bad that I enjoyed watching the movie with Morgan Freeman more than reading this? ha!
adventurous
challenging
reflective
slow-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Complicated
Loveable characters:
No
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
I can see that this is an important book, and it's structure and influence on the novel is important, but for me it was a tedious read! The prose was very long and wordy, and there was no natural ends, so nowhere to really stop reading. Defoe tries a bit too hard to make it different I think!
Last Sunday I marveled at the lack of traffic while driving to the library. “Wow, Easter Sunday is a great time to do errands!” Except, of course, that the library was closed when I got there. To stave off the book withdrawal, I borrowed Moll Flanders from my roommate, who hadn’t read it yet. It’s a classic, so it’s been on my to-read list for a long time. This book is CRAZY, and as much of a salacious trainwreck as a book published in 1722 can be. Defoe uses the titular character as a mouthpiece for more than a bit of social criticism, but Moll herself is the real point of interest. I alternate between horrified fascination and wonderment that Defoe got away with this at all. Moll speaks like your typical 18th century heroine…if your typical 18th century heroine had more husbands and fewer morals than your average Hollywood actress. Spoilers: this woman was married five times—once to her own brother, though in her defense she didn’t know he was her brother at the time—and had so many children by so many men that I’m honestly not sure where the tally stands right now. Might be around a dozen kids, counting the ones who died. She hasn’t bothered to take care of any of them so far, so it’s hard to tell.
I picked this one up way back in the summer of 2010 and read about 75 pages before putting it aside for other things...over and over and over. So, when I realized it was five months gone of me procrastinating I had to just finish it. I did end up liking it, but there wasn't much in the story that kept me riveted or engaged. I loved Moll; how she evolved over the course of the story into someone who knew her limits very well and was willing to go to whatever lengths necessary to survive and prosper. I love how the author writes with some gusto about Moll's "adventures" in thievery for almost 100 pages and then has her briefly interject to say that all of this has been mearly to educate decent people about how to avoid thieves. I could almost imagine her grinning slyly as she said that. Maybe that's my own take on it, but I'd rather think of Moll inwardly unrepentant and playing the readers all along. This is a very interesting picture of what a highly intelligent woman may have done to survive in the 1700's.