At the time Jane Austen’s novels
were published – between 1811 and 1818 – English literature was not part of any
academic curriculum. In addition, fiction was under strenuous attack. Certain
religious and political groups felt novels had the power to make so-called
immoral characters so interesting that young readers would identify with them;
these groups also considered novels to be of little practical use. Even
Coleridge, certainly no literary reactionary, spoke for many when the asserted
that “novel-reading occasions the destruction of the mind’s powers.”
These attitudes towards novels help
explain why Austen received little attention from early nineteenth-century
literary cities. (In any case a novelist published anonymously, as Austen was,
would not be likely to receive much critical attention.) The literary response
that was accorded to her, however, was often as incisive as twentieth-century
criticism. In his attack in 1816 on novelistic portrayals “outside of ordinary experience,”
for example. Scott made an insightful remark about the merits of Austen’s
fiction.
Her novels, wrote Scott, “present to
the reader an accurate and exact picture of ordinary everyday people and
places, reminiscent of seventeenth-century Flemish painting.” Scott did not use
the word ‘realism’, but he undoubtedly used a standard of realistic probability
in judging novels. The critic Whately did not use the word ‘realism’, either,
but he expressed agreement with Scott’s evaluation, and went on to suggest the possibilities
for moral instruction in what we have called Austen’s ‘realistic method’ her
characters, wrote Whately, are persuasive agents for moral truth since they are
ordinary persons “so clearly evoked that we feel an interest in their fate as
if it were our own.” Moral instruction, explained Whately, is more likely to be
effective when conveyed through recongnizably human and interesting characters
than when imparted by a sermonizing narrator. Whitely especially praised Austen’s
ability to create character who “mingle goodness and villainy, weakness and
virtue, as in life they are always mingled. “Whitely concluded his remarks by
comparing Austen’s art of characterization to Dickens’, starting his preference
for Austen’s.
Yet, the response of
nineteenth-century literary critics to Austen was not always so laudatory, and
often anticipated the reservations of twentieth-century literary critics. An
example of such a response was Lewes complaint in 1859 that Austen’s range of
subject and characters was too narrow. Praising her verisimilitude, Lewes added
that, nonetheless her focus was too often only upon the unlofty and the
commonplace. (Twentieth-century Marxists, on the other hand, were to complain
about what they saw as her exclusive emphasis on a lofty upper middle class.)
In any case having being rescued by literary critics from neglect and indeed
gradually lionized by them, Austen steadily reached, by the mid-nineteenth
century, the enviable pinnacle of being considered controversial.
The author would most likely agree
to which of the following as the best measure of a writer’s literary success?
Although cynics may like to see he government’s policy for
women in terms of the party’s internal power struggles, it will nevertheless be
churlish to deny that it represents a pioneering effect aimed at bringing about
sweeping social reforms. In its language, scope and strategies, the policy documents
displays a degree of understanding of women’s needs that is uncommon in
government pronouncements. This is due in large part to the participatory
process that marked its formulation, seeking the active involvement right from
the start of women’s groups, academic institutions and non-government
organizations with grass roots experience. The result is not just a lofty
declaration of principles but a blueprint for a practical program of action.
The policy delineates a series of concrete measures to accord women a
decision-making role in the political domain and greater control over their
economic status. Of especially far-reaching impart are the devolution of
control of economic infrastructure to women, notably at the gram panchayat
level, and the amendment proposed in the Act of 1956 to give women comparcenary
rights.
And enlightened aspect of the policy is its recognition that
actual change in the status of women cannot be brought about by the mere enactment
of socially progressive legislation. Accordingly, it focuses on reorienting
development programs and sensitizing administrations to address specific
situations as, for instance, the growing number of households headed by women,
which is a consequence of rural-urban migration. The proposal to create an
equal-opportunity police force and give women greater control of police
stations is an acknowledgement of the biases and callousness displayed by the
generally all-male law-enforcement authorities in case of dowery and domestic
violence. While the mere enunciation of such a policy has the salutary effect
of sensitizing the administration as a whole, it does not make the task of its
implementation any easier. This is because the changes it envisages in the
political and economic status of woman strike at the root of power structures
in society and the basis of man-woman relationship. There is also the danger
that reservation for women in public life, while necessary for their greater
visibility, could lapse into tokenism or become a tool in the hands of vote
seeking politicians. Much will depend on the dissemination of the policy and
the ability of elected representatives and government agencies to reorder their
priorities.
Which of the following is
most nearly the same in meaning to ‘callousness’ as used in the passage?
