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Ann RadcliffeA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Content Warning: This section of the guide discusses suicide and abuse.
Using rational thought to explore the supernatural is a consistent theme throughout Radcliffe’s novels. While Radcliffe uses many of the conventions of Gothic fiction to create a sense of terror related to a possibly supernatural presence, there are no actual ghosts in A Sicilian Romance. Rather, the novel suggests that a belief in the supernatural is for the weak-minded (primarily, in the view of the marquis, women and servants). When confronted with unexplained lights and groans, Ferdinand and Madame de Menon both use reason to explore the possible causes. Madame suggests that if there are spirits walking the castle, it is only because God has allowed them to, and they cannot do any harm to those who are innocent and pure. Her application of rational thought to religious belief is meant to reassure Julia and Emilia, who are frightened of the sounds near their new rooms.
Ferdinand takes the use of rational thought a step further and sets out to explore the abandoned part of the castle with his own eyes and trust only his senses. When he hears a terrifying groan and brings his concerns to his father, the marquis chides him: “Learn to trust reason and your senses, and you will then be worthy of my attention” (43). It is only when Ferdinand swears to the marquis that he witnessed the lights and sounds himself that the marquis will acknowledge their existence. The fact that the ghost story he invents to conceal his crime is later revealed to be a falsehood further emphasizes that there is always a rational explanation for events. In this way, the theme connects with the motif of Secrets and Legacies: the family ghost story the marquis invents contrasts with the personal secret of his crime.
The idea that supernatural fears can be explained by rational reasoning is further emphasized by the marquis when he takes his frightened servants on a tour of the abandoned rooms, asking them to open doors and see for themselves what is there. The explanations for the strange noises they hear are all reasonable: ruined roofs and crumbling staircases collapsing. Through this theme, Radcliffe holds two key aspects of her writing together: the Gothic use of fear and foreboding to create terror, and the Enlightenment focus on the rational mind. When Ferdinand is later locked in a dungeon, he continues to struggle to reconcile his beliefs in the rational with his fears of the supernatural: his mind is “highly superior to the general influence of superstition; but, [...] he had himself heard strange and awful sounds in the forsaken southern buildings” (85). Ferdinand’s struggle to use his reason even in the face of fear highlights his intellect and his desire to get to the truth of matters.
Attempts by fathers to oppress their daughters form the basis of the novel’s plot and emphasize patriarchal gender roles that dictated society when the novel was written. The marquis sees himself as the ruler of his family, even choosing to imprison a wife when she becomes “dull” and inconvenient for him. As for his daughter, the marquis informs Julia brusquely of the fate he has chosen for her:
The Duke de Luovo has solicited your hand. An alliance so splendid was beyond my expectation. You will receive the distinction with the gratitude it claims, and prepare for the celebration of the nuptials. [...] [T]he joy occasioned by a distinction so unmerited on your part, ought to overcome the little feminine weakness you might otherwise indulge (48).
The marquis’s speech encapsulates several patriarchal tenets about the role of women: that they exist solely to be wives and daughters, that their pleasure should derive from furthering men’s ambitions, and that they are generally weak and unworthy of the little attention men give them. Julia’s multiple efforts to disabuse her father and the duke of these notions are ignored, and her predicament is replicated in several relationship stories in the novel. Louisa and Orlando, Cornelia and Angelo, and the nameless young woman and the cavalier have all been subject to the whims of patriarchal oppression. For each of these, there are only unhappy choices: flight, death, loveless marriage, or dedication to a nunnery.
Patriarchal oppression of women is also revealed during Julia’s time at the monastery, where she finds herself surrounded by women but still answering to the dictates and whims of the Abate. Like the marquis, the Abate addresses Julia with fatherly condescension, lectures, and the suggestion that she cannot make her own decisions. She finds herself caught between two patriarchal forces that aim to control and subordinate her, and her only escape is through the help of her brother or a marriage to Hippolitus. Julia seeks her own freedom, but only men can give it to her.
When Ferdinand contradicts patriarchal authority and tells Julia to “[f]ly [...] from the authority of a father who abuses his power, and assert the liberty of choice, which nature assigned you” (53), he is expressing a rare viewpoint for his time in the 16th century and Radcliffe’s in the 18th. However, Julia clings to another value of her time: the purity of her good reputation, “which was dearer to her than existence” (54). By asserting her own independence and rejecting obedience, society suggests that Julia runs the risk of sacrificing a key part of what it means to be a woman.
Though the novel suggests that both Ferdinand and Julia are rewarded for their idealism with their happy fate at the novel’s conclusion, there are so many unhappy examples of patriarchal power ruling the day that Julia’s happy ending is shown to be the exception, not the rule.
In Gothic literature, nature is often a representation of the sublime and transcendental. It emphasizes a connection between the natural world and the human experience that is separate from religion or other institutions. In the early chapters of the novel, nature is a transformative force, in which Julia can take refuge when the demands of family and civilized society overwhelm her: “The beauty of the scene, the soothing murmur of the high trees, waved by the light air which overshadowed her, and the soft shelling of the waves that flowed gently in upon the shores, insensibly sunk her mind into a state of repose” (37). Through descriptive passages like these, nature is presented as capable “in her most sublime and striking attitudes” of elevating “the mind of the beholder to enthusiasm [and] reverential awe” (91). Even at their most tormented, the characters (even those as evil or loathsome as the Duke de Luovo) never fail to find solace in a lovely sunset, shelter in a shaded wood, or hope in a ray of light.
Radcliffe’s romanticization of the natural world contrasts with her more critical views of the civilized world in general and Catholicism in particular. Naples, a large and bustling city, is where the marquis and Maria de Vellorno choose to spend their time in dissolute pursuits, rather than the Sicilian countryside where Emilia and Julia are cloistered in solitary innocence. Throughout the novel, mansions and monasteries, those “monument[s] of monkish superstition and princely magnificence” (101), are often falling into ruin, suggesting that human institutions fall to decay. Meanwhile, Radcliffe elevates the experience of nature to something divine, and when Madame involuntarily utters the words, “from Nature up to Nature’s God” (91), she is making explicit the link between the natural world and the divine.
Radcliffe uses vivid figurative language to develop the motif of Landscapes to provide a sense of nature mirroring human emotion. When the duke is frustrated in his search, a storm arrives. When Hippolitus is confused in his search for Julia, he finds himself literally lost in the woods, at a fork in the road. When the day begins clear and cloudless, Julia finds hope again. The text’s enthusiasm for nature is also present in the odes and other poems Radcliffe includes throughout the novel, in which the natural world is used to express Julia’s innermost thoughts and longings. Nature is represented as a purer and more honest way of representing human experience than other institutions; while the narrative frequently says that it would not be possible to describe the emotions overtaking the characters, Radcliffe is never at a loss for words to describe the world around them.
Almost all of the major characters in the novel experience the influence of passionate feeling at some point. How they deal with those passions and whether they can tame them ultimately divides them: Either they are virtuous and find their way back to reason, or they are dissolute and allow passion to cause them pain and misery. The novel frequently juxtaposes other images and ideas, like good and evil or dark and light, to emphasize this theme and its inherent contrasts.
When Julia first meets Hippolitus, she feels passion for the first time in her life, and she is “not cool enough to distinguish the vivid glow of imagination from the colours of real bliss” (17). However, as a woman of virtue, Julia allows her passion to cool toward a more reasonable approach. She conceals her emotions until it is seemly to reveal them, and she uses calm calculation in undertaking the risk of her various escapes, carefully weighing the possible outcomes against one another. Likewise does Ferdinand, whose experiences in the dungeon create a passionate degree of terror, use reason to calm himself and discover the truth.
However, the marquis, the duke, the Abate, and Maria de Vellorno are ruled by their passions, and these passions frequently cause them to act against their better judgment and their own best interests. Each contradicts reason, often to soothe an injured sense of pride. What sets the Abate against the marquis and on the side of Julia is the presumptuous tone of the marquis’s letter, rather than a reasonable exploration of the two sides. In Maria’s case, jealous passion rules when she sees that her feelings for Hippolitus are unrequited: “her bosom glowed with more intense passion, and her brain was at length exasperated almost to madness” (39). The duke, faced also with feelings of unrequited love and scorned pride, experiences “passions inflamed by disappointment [...] and those considerations which would have operated with a more delicate mind to overcome its original inclination, served only to encrease [sic] the violence of his” (64). Passion in their cases follows impure thoughts and breeds desperate and violent actions. The duke sets out in reckless pursuit of Julia, and Maria ends her own life and that of the marquis.
The focus on passion versus reason is closely tied to The Use of Rational Thought to Explore the Supernatural, and Radcliffe uses didacticism throughout the novel to make her Enlightenment ideals on the subject clear, stating a key moral of the story early on: “Passion, in its undue influence, produces weakness as well as injustice” (22). Thus, it is only through goodness, virtue, and the light of reason that the novel’s protagonists are able to escape the passions and injustices of their antagonists.
By Ann Radcliffe