READ TO ME, BABY
When you think of reading out loud, it probably brings up the mental picture of a parent or other caring adult reading to a child. Or perhaps the child proudly turning the tables and showing the grownups what they’ve learned.
In the 19th century, though, reading out loud came up in all kinds of different contexts. Often, it was background noise, the way we now leave the TV on so we’re not in a silent room. Think of the scenes in LITTLE WOMEN and other novels where one woman reads while the others sew. The book is usually what the Victorians called an “improving” one, meaning moral and probably at least a little boring.
That wasn’t really the point, if you were sitting at home sewing or hanging around the hearth with your family. There were only two possible ways to fill the silence, music or reading. If you didn’t want to spend all your time banging away on the upright…or couldn’t afford one, reading out loud was a very good way to supply some interest to your time.
The sewing March sisters were following a very elegant tradition, though they probably didn’t know it. Queens and upper-class women had readers for at least a century before the idea came to the Victorian home. Even Marie Antoinette had one…and I’d love to see that reading list, wouldn’t you?
Reading was also a way to distract the sick. If you called on a relative who was fighting one of the many nasty things that could ruin your life before antibiotics, you probably read to them. It might have been the Bible, to offer spiritual comfort. But could just as easily have been the latest adventure book, for a fun distraction.
You probably wouldn’t read the a sensational romantic novel to a sick relative. Well, depends on the relative.
In any case, the reading wasn’t just a good deed. It was actually a small performance. The average middle-class 19th century person probably did a lot more performing on a daily basis than all but professionals do in our world. Reading out loud, reciting poetry, playing or singing a song, all were little accomplishments you might bring out to amuse your family and friends…and all were performing in ways that we simply don’t have to do now.
Reading out loud wasn’t all putting on a show for your sick auntie, though. Sometimes it was part of a courtship. Couples were always looking for intimate, but not physical, things they could do together, and reading fit the bill nicely. Even better if it was love poetry, like some classic Shakespeare or Donne, but even the grim old King James Bible will do if your partner is reading it to you with the right look in their eyes and note in their voice.
In fact, in A FATAL FIRST NIGHT, Ella discovers that she very much enjoys having someone read to her. I can’t tell you who because that would spoil a surprise, but let’s just say that she discovers that it is an awful lot of fun to be an audience of one for a certain gentleman with excellent performance skills. In much the same way as for other couples of the time, the reading turns out to be far more romantic than “improving.” Though of course it’s an improving book!
Got an idea for a Throwback Thursday post? Drop it in the comments!
In the 19th century, though, reading out loud came up in all kinds of different contexts. Often, it was background noise, the way we now leave the TV on so we’re not in a silent room. Think of the scenes in LITTLE WOMEN and other novels where one woman reads while the others sew. The book is usually what the Victorians called an “improving” one, meaning moral and probably at least a little boring.
That wasn’t really the point, if you were sitting at home sewing or hanging around the hearth with your family. There were only two possible ways to fill the silence, music or reading. If you didn’t want to spend all your time banging away on the upright…or couldn’t afford one, reading out loud was a very good way to supply some interest to your time.
The sewing March sisters were following a very elegant tradition, though they probably didn’t know it. Queens and upper-class women had readers for at least a century before the idea came to the Victorian home. Even Marie Antoinette had one…and I’d love to see that reading list, wouldn’t you?
Reading was also a way to distract the sick. If you called on a relative who was fighting one of the many nasty things that could ruin your life before antibiotics, you probably read to them. It might have been the Bible, to offer spiritual comfort. But could just as easily have been the latest adventure book, for a fun distraction.
You probably wouldn’t read the a sensational romantic novel to a sick relative. Well, depends on the relative.
In any case, the reading wasn’t just a good deed. It was actually a small performance. The average middle-class 19th century person probably did a lot more performing on a daily basis than all but professionals do in our world. Reading out loud, reciting poetry, playing or singing a song, all were little accomplishments you might bring out to amuse your family and friends…and all were performing in ways that we simply don’t have to do now.
Reading out loud wasn’t all putting on a show for your sick auntie, though. Sometimes it was part of a courtship. Couples were always looking for intimate, but not physical, things they could do together, and reading fit the bill nicely. Even better if it was love poetry, like some classic Shakespeare or Donne, but even the grim old King James Bible will do if your partner is reading it to you with the right look in their eyes and note in their voice.
In fact, in A FATAL FIRST NIGHT, Ella discovers that she very much enjoys having someone read to her. I can’t tell you who because that would spoil a surprise, but let’s just say that she discovers that it is an awful lot of fun to be an audience of one for a certain gentleman with excellent performance skills. In much the same way as for other couples of the time, the reading turns out to be far more romantic than “improving.” Though of course it’s an improving book!
Got an idea for a Throwback Thursday post? Drop it in the comments!
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