Bibliographer: Maia Gerlinger

The History of Eliza Warwick

Narrating her description of the eighteenth-century History of Eliza Warwick in the consistent third-person focalized description of the nineteenth-century novel of interiority, this deliberately anachronistic description emphasizes the subjective side of bibliographic description, something that traditional descriptive bibliography avoids at its peril.  [Further, the third-person focalized description narrates the process of looking at a book, incorporating the element of time into the recording of bibliographic characteristics.]

Traditional Description

Eliza-titlepage.png

THE HISTORY OF ELIZA WARWICK. IN TWO VOLUMES. 1st ed. Dublin. Printed for: S. Price, W. Whitestone, R. Fitzsimmons, D. Chamberlaine, J. Sheppard, [and 17 others in Dublin], 1778.

THE HISTORY | OF | ELIZA WARWICK. | IN TWO VOLUMES. | ––Vaulting Ambition, that o’erleaps itself, | And falls on t’other side.”–– | VOL. I. | DUBLIN. | Printed for S. PRICE, W. WHITESTONE, R. FITZSIMMONS, D. CHAMBERLAINE, J. SHEPPARD, W. | SLEATER, T. WILKINSON, B. CORCORAN, R. | CROSS, J. HOEY, J. POTTS, J. WILLIAMS, W. | COLLES, G. BURNET, E. CROSS, R. MONCRIEPFE, | J. JENKIN, T. WAKLER, T. Mc. DONELL, J. EX- | SHAW, J. BEATY, and J. MAGEE, 1778.

Pagination begins with A2v as vi and A3r as vii. A4 is missing. B1 has no pagination on the front; paginated as 2 on the back. B2 paginated as 3, 4; et cetera. Format: duodecimo.

Contents: Volume I. A1r half-title, A1v title, A2r- A1v –A3r preface, A3v – A4

missing, B1r-M8r text, M8v-M12v missing

Volume II. A1r half-title, A1v title, A3r text – L6r, L6v missing

Notes:

From Bodleian Library (Oxford). Gale Document Number CW103615943. In the preface, the author asks for the kindness of the critics, and offers her gender as an excuse:

“I am not so ungenerous as to hope to prejudice you in my favour, by telling you that I am a female, and a very young one—Your gallantry might, to be sure, on that account, whisper something in my behalf—I do not mean that it should when I make that confession—nor should it be made at all, but that I think it necessary to apologize, as a woman, for this work’s not being written, perhaps, so accurately as you would expect it should be, did it come from one of your own sex” (p. vi).

 

Experimental Description


She opened the book. The first page was a half-title: “THE HISTORY OF ELIZA WARWICK,” it read. The words were sandwiched between rows of ornaments, weird curvy things that reminded her somehow of dragons. Beneath the dragons, it said, “VOL. I.”

            She turned the page.

            The next page was the title page. It said, again: “THE HISTORY OF ELIZA WARWICK”. And: “IN TWO VOLUMES.” And then, below: “—Vaulting ambition, that o’erleaps itself, and falls on t’other side.— ”

            The bottom half of the page said “VOL. I.” “And: “DUBLIN.” And: “Printed for S. PRICE, W. WHITESTONE, R. FITZSIMMONS, D. CHAMBERLAINE, J. SHEPPARD, W. SLEATER, T. WILKINSON, B. CORCORAN, R. CROSS, J. HOEY, J. POTTS, J. WILLIAMS, W. COLLES, G. BURNET, E. CROSS, R. MONCRIEPFE, J. JENKIN, T. WALKER, T. Mc. DONELL, J. EXSHAW, J. BEATY, and J. MAGEE, 1778.”

            She turned the page.

            The next page was titled “To the Reviewers.” She skimmed it, briefly. It seemed to be the usual sort of stuff: “to your protection I offer a Work blah blah little to recommend itself to your notice blah blah blah blah blah virtuous.” She turned the page. The next page, weirdly, was labeled vi, although she could have sworn that this was only the fourth page. Page vii was more stuff addressed to the reviewers: the author apologized for the quality of her work, excused herself because she was a woman, blah blah blah. The next page was the end of the address.

            She turned the page.

            The next page was the first page of the novel. She noticed that the signature at the bottom said “B”; that was weird; shouldn’t there have been another page somewhere…? The novel opened with a letter to the eponymous character. She skimmed it. Something about—some mother begging Eliza to break off the engagement with her son for some reason (probably financial reasons or class reasons or the usual); blah blah blah; blah blah blah. She started to leaf through the pages more quickly. A dreadfully melodramatic letter written from the son to Eliza; the book, she noticed, was generally a duodecimo, even though the first gathering had only been five pages or so. She flipped to the end of the first volume: page 256. There were no advertisements or indices at the end.

            She put away the first volume and took out the second. The half-title and the title were the same; after these, the text began immediately. It continued without interruption until page 251, where it ended; no advertisements, no indices.