What do you think?
Rate this book
An Essay on the Art of Ingeniously Tormenting
Wickedly funny and bitingly satirical, The Art is a comedy of manners that gives insights into eighteenth-century behavior as well as the timeless art of emotional abuse. It is also an advice book, a handbook of anti-etiquette, and a comedy of manners. Collier describes methods for "teasing
and mortifying" one's intimates and acquaintances in a variety of social situations. Written primarily for wives, mothers, and the mistresses of servants, it suggests the difficulties women experienced exerting their influence in private and public life--and the ways they got round them. As such,
The Art provides a fascinating glimpse into eighteenth-century daily life.
The first to employ modern spelling, this edition includes a lively introduction by editor Katharine A. Craik. Craik puts in context the various disputes described in The Art (domestic squabbles, quarrels between female friends, altercations between social classes) by describing the emergence
in mid-eighteenth century of new notions of bourgeois femininity, along with new ideas of leisure and recreation. The result is a literary work sure to be enjoyed both by lovers of satire and those with an interest in the real daily dramas of the eighteenth-century world.
and mortifying" one's intimates and acquaintances in a variety of social situations. Written primarily for wives, mothers, and the mistresses of servants, it suggests the difficulties women experienced exerting their influence in private and public life--and the ways they got round them. As such,
The Art provides a fascinating glimpse into eighteenth-century daily life.
The first to employ modern spelling, this edition includes a lively introduction by editor Katharine A. Craik. Craik puts in context the various disputes described in The Art (domestic squabbles, quarrels between female friends, altercations between social classes) by describing the emergence
in mid-eighteenth century of new notions of bourgeois femininity, along with new ideas of leisure and recreation. The result is a literary work sure to be enjoyed both by lovers of satire and those with an interest in the real daily dramas of the eighteenth-century world.
156 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1753
9 people are currently reading
283 people want to read
About the author
Jane Collier
15 books1 followerJane Collier (1714 – March 1755)[1] was an English novelist most famous for her book An Essay on the Art of Ingeniously Tormenting (1753). She also collaborated with Sarah Fielding on her only other surviving work The Cry (1754).
During her life, she was able to meet and work with many famous writers of her day. In particular, Samuel Richardson and Henry Fielding both had a particular interest in her intelligence and in her writing ability.
Personal life[edit]
Collier was baptized on the 16th of January 1715 in Wiltshire, the daughter of philosopher and clergyman Reverend Authur Collier, and Margaret Johnson.[2] She had two brothers and one sister.[2] In 1716, their family were forced to move into a less expensive residence in Salisbury to pay debts.[2] It was here that her brother Arthur, named after their father, studied law and educated his sisters, along with her childhood friend Sarah Fielding, in Greek and Latin language and literature; his manner of education was to prepare the girls to become governesses.[3]
In 1732, her father died and Jane (17), along with her sister Margaret (15), were left without anyone to provide for them.[3] In 1748, the sisters moved in with their brother Arthur who was living in the Doctors' Commons.[3] During this time, Arthur "quarrelled" with Henry, and it is possible that a split formed between the siblings.[4] A year after, in 1749, her mother died.[2] Soon after, the living arrangements dissolved, and Margaret became the governess to Henry Fielding's daughters and Jane with Samuel Richardson.[3] Richardson was impressed by Collier's education, and wrote to Lady Bradshaigh that Jane was proof "that women may be trusted with Latin and even Greek, and yet not think themselves above their domestic duties."[5]
Collier never married, possibly because she could not offer a sufficient dowry, or possibly because, like Sarah Fielding, she hoped to establish an independent living through her writing.[6] In 1748, Richardson was using Collier as a go between with Sarah Fielding in order to help the two write.[7][8] In 1753, she wrote The Art of Ingeniously Tormenting with the help of Sarah Fielding and possibly James Harris or Samuel Richardson.[9] Afterwards, it was Richardson who printed the work.[4] Her final book, written with Sarah Fielding, was The Cry, published in 1754.[9]
She died in 1755, just a year after the publication of The Cry. The exact date of her death is not known, but her death took place in London before the end of March. After her death, Richardson wrote to Sarah Fielding: "Don't you miss our dear Miss Jenny Collier more and more?-I do."[10] Before she died, she planned a sequel to The Cry, describing it as "A book called The Laugh on the same plan as The Cry".[11] Richardson urged Fielding to revise The Cry just two years later.[4]
Style[edit]
Collier's The Art of Ingeniously Tormenting has been described as the "best-known generic satire written in the eighteenth century by a woman."[12] She is one of the many female 18th-century authors (including Frances Burney, Sarah Fielding, Sarah Scott, and Charlotte Turner Smith) who experimented with "alternative models for relationships, for different ways of regarding others and even for ameliorating society."[13]
As a sign of his favor for Collier's style, satiric humor, and classical learning, Henry Fielding wrote in the beginning of an edition of Horace:
To Miss Jane Collyer,
This Edition of the best
of all the Roman Poets,
as a Memorial (however poor)
of the highest Esteem for
an Understanding more than
Female, mixed with virtues almost
more than human, gives, offers up
and dedicates her Sincere Friend
Henry Fielding[14]
This was one of the last works that Fielding would write because he left that evening on a trip to Lisbon where he died two months later.[15]
List of works[edit]
An Essay on the Art of Ingeniously Tormenting (1753). A social satire that was originally published anonymously
During her life, she was able to meet and work with many famous writers of her day. In particular, Samuel Richardson and Henry Fielding both had a particular interest in her intelligence and in her writing ability.
Personal life[edit]
Collier was baptized on the 16th of January 1715 in Wiltshire, the daughter of philosopher and clergyman Reverend Authur Collier, and Margaret Johnson.[2] She had two brothers and one sister.[2] In 1716, their family were forced to move into a less expensive residence in Salisbury to pay debts.[2] It was here that her brother Arthur, named after their father, studied law and educated his sisters, along with her childhood friend Sarah Fielding, in Greek and Latin language and literature; his manner of education was to prepare the girls to become governesses.[3]
In 1732, her father died and Jane (17), along with her sister Margaret (15), were left without anyone to provide for them.[3] In 1748, the sisters moved in with their brother Arthur who was living in the Doctors' Commons.[3] During this time, Arthur "quarrelled" with Henry, and it is possible that a split formed between the siblings.[4] A year after, in 1749, her mother died.[2] Soon after, the living arrangements dissolved, and Margaret became the governess to Henry Fielding's daughters and Jane with Samuel Richardson.[3] Richardson was impressed by Collier's education, and wrote to Lady Bradshaigh that Jane was proof "that women may be trusted with Latin and even Greek, and yet not think themselves above their domestic duties."[5]
Collier never married, possibly because she could not offer a sufficient dowry, or possibly because, like Sarah Fielding, she hoped to establish an independent living through her writing.[6] In 1748, Richardson was using Collier as a go between with Sarah Fielding in order to help the two write.[7][8] In 1753, she wrote The Art of Ingeniously Tormenting with the help of Sarah Fielding and possibly James Harris or Samuel Richardson.[9] Afterwards, it was Richardson who printed the work.[4] Her final book, written with Sarah Fielding, was The Cry, published in 1754.[9]
She died in 1755, just a year after the publication of The Cry. The exact date of her death is not known, but her death took place in London before the end of March. After her death, Richardson wrote to Sarah Fielding: "Don't you miss our dear Miss Jenny Collier more and more?-I do."[10] Before she died, she planned a sequel to The Cry, describing it as "A book called The Laugh on the same plan as The Cry".[11] Richardson urged Fielding to revise The Cry just two years later.[4]
Style[edit]
Collier's The Art of Ingeniously Tormenting has been described as the "best-known generic satire written in the eighteenth century by a woman."[12] She is one of the many female 18th-century authors (including Frances Burney, Sarah Fielding, Sarah Scott, and Charlotte Turner Smith) who experimented with "alternative models for relationships, for different ways of regarding others and even for ameliorating society."[13]
As a sign of his favor for Collier's style, satiric humor, and classical learning, Henry Fielding wrote in the beginning of an edition of Horace:
To Miss Jane Collyer,
This Edition of the best
of all the Roman Poets,
as a Memorial (however poor)
of the highest Esteem for
an Understanding more than
Female, mixed with virtues almost
more than human, gives, offers up
and dedicates her Sincere Friend
Henry Fielding[14]
This was one of the last works that Fielding would write because he left that evening on a trip to Lisbon where he died two months later.[15]
List of works[edit]
An Essay on the Art of Ingeniously Tormenting (1753). A social satire that was originally published anonymously
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 20 of 20 reviews
March 14, 2021
If I were one to harken to conspiracy theories, I would easily believe that every Republican elected in the last 40 years, every misogynistic male, indeed, a large number of the frightening narcissistic sociopaths active online today, held secret meetings where they shared passages from Jane Collier’s fiendishly funny essay. As a fan of 18th century satirists like Swift, I took to this text like a bee to honey. Collier offers expert advice on how to gaslight your spouse - before gaslights were ever invented! As someone who found herself, after the death of her parents, dependent upon the kindness of friends, Collier must have had ample opportunity to watch people whose sole pleasure was inflicting torment on others especially those dependent upon them. So, for example, Collier recommends neglecting your children in their early years, so that by the time they reach the age of ten, they are so headstrong and moody as to make everyone they come into contact with miserable. The editors at Broadview have provided a helpful introduction, and contextualize Collier’s essay with other examples of 18th century satire, including Swift’s advice to servents. A lovely edition of a text that deserves to be better known!
June 5, 2009
An enjoyable satirical novel that captures the late 18th century Zeitgeist.
Collier has been compared to Jonathan Swift as a satirist, which although a lazy academic shorthand, holds some merit. Her tone is more schoolmarmish than Swift, of course, and her style more a pleasant twosome with Sarah Fielding (her contemporary) and Jane Austen (her predecessor).
Those fond of Austen's pin-sharp and eloquent wit will find Collier's whimsy rather amusing. I bought this book initially as a joke for my girlfriend (who laughed once at the title and handed it back to me) so it's not usually the sort of book I snuggle up with.
Although Collier's satire is repetitious and tiresome by today's standards (the book is a one-joke rant and has obvious modern successors), it does serve to highlight the sheer disunion between most groups of late 18th century society.
Servants squabbled with their masters, masters upbraided their servants, husbands loathed their wives, their wives hated their husbands etc.
Those studying early feminist literature might want to seek this out, as Collier's satire was considered extremely bold at the time, and pre-dates Wollstonecraft's first blows. Likewise those researching attitudes of the time who want a pithier insight into life in England circa 1762 should have a read.
Non-students who love English whimsy should find oh-so much pleasure in this skittish little essay.
Collier has been compared to Jonathan Swift as a satirist, which although a lazy academic shorthand, holds some merit. Her tone is more schoolmarmish than Swift, of course, and her style more a pleasant twosome with Sarah Fielding (her contemporary) and Jane Austen (her predecessor).
Those fond of Austen's pin-sharp and eloquent wit will find Collier's whimsy rather amusing. I bought this book initially as a joke for my girlfriend (who laughed once at the title and handed it back to me) so it's not usually the sort of book I snuggle up with.
Although Collier's satire is repetitious and tiresome by today's standards (the book is a one-joke rant and has obvious modern successors), it does serve to highlight the sheer disunion between most groups of late 18th century society.
Servants squabbled with their masters, masters upbraided their servants, husbands loathed their wives, their wives hated their husbands etc.
Those studying early feminist literature might want to seek this out, as Collier's satire was considered extremely bold at the time, and pre-dates Wollstonecraft's first blows. Likewise those researching attitudes of the time who want a pithier insight into life in England circa 1762 should have a read.
Non-students who love English whimsy should find oh-so much pleasure in this skittish little essay.
October 26, 2016
In the tradition of Swift's "A Modest Proposal", Jane Collier dispenses advice on the best way for bored middle-class women to torment their husbands, help, and children, all while subtly pointing out the hypocrisy and cruelty of respectable society.
December 26, 2019
Utterly funny, and sarcastic. I've enjoyed reading a humor from the 18th century.
March 6, 2018
I'm genuinely conflicted about this book. It's clearly well written and genius in its own way. Unfortunately, it's dark themes and playful attitude towards troubling advice is off-putting. It is possible, and perhaps intended, to read this long essay as a joke or critique on society (one particularly great passage that compares social limitations placed on women to the cruelties of tormenting others stands out) but I found it hard to do so at many points. The chapters about tormenting those you have power over (servants, children, husbands, porters, ect) really did not sit well with me as there is something particularly perverse about exploiting those who depend on you. Collier's use of humour is morally ambiguous, and is at the crux of my uncertain feelings towards this book.
May 28, 2008
"In short, keep up in your mind the true spirit of contradiction to everything that is proposed or done; and although, from want of power, you may not be able to exercise tyranny, yet, by the help of perpetual mutiny, you may heavily torment and vex all there that love you; and be as troublesome as an impertinent fly, to those who care not three farthings about you."
I couldn't have said it better myself...
I couldn't have said it better myself...
July 8, 2022
I’ve read Jane Collier’s An Essay on Ingeniously Tormenting a number of times but never reviewed it, so I thought I’d read it again and see what I have to say. it’s a brilliant idea, putting a satirical spin on two of the most popular genres for eighteenth-century, middle-class readers, the morally improving book and the ‘art of…’ format of ‘how to’ books. It’s a more subtle work than a simple ‘how to be nasty’ kind of work, it’s the art of ‘ingeniously tormenting’ and it is rather ingenious.
My copy includes the ‘advertisement to the reader’ from the second edition which explains there not being many additions to the work because the author was taught “if you have nothing to say, don’t say it”, a maxim I wish more writers would adhere to. it also explains that she is not going to pad out the beginning with complementary letters she’s received, it’s not that she hasn’t received them, it’s that people are so full of “good nature and universal benevolence” that they’d assume the letters were made up. To be fair, such letters often were.
The book then goes through numerous relationships, explaining how to torment best within them. it’s interesting to note that until the chapter on friends at the end, those relationships all have unbalanced power structures and the tormentor is always the powerful one. As much as I’d have liked a sequel about how the less empowered could torment those above them, it’s fitting that this book aims only at those with power already, as it’s really an attack on domestic abuse of power.
Tormenting isn’t about causing great harm, it’s not a deep jab with a knife but gently prodding the victim to “waste by degrees”. An ingenious tormentor starts of nicely, sets themselves up as friend or kindly employer before wearing the victim down. Raised expectations of kindness not only create more pain when they are let down, but mask the tormenting as it begins. Kindness exists in the book’s conception of the world but it is a rare commodity to be spent frugally and for specific purposes.
Examples of this include nursing a sick servant through bad health so that the tormentor can use that debt of gratitude at every moment after. Not that it matters so much when a servant is bullied into leaving, they are a commodity that can be easily replaced. If the tormentor has taken in a poor woman out of charity, there are two ways to go. The pretty ones can be teased about their looks and stupidity, infantilised, talked down to and treated as a pretty little pet. The smart, ugly ones can be given the “usual” insults given to smart women, make sure to call her a “wit” often.
Children are great. Not only can they be tormented, and actually have less legal recourse than anyone else in society, but they can be raised to torment others and even themselves. “Breed them up properly, to be a torment to themselves if they live, and a plague to all your acquaintance.” The key to this is doting neglect, let the children do anything and have anything they want. Only punish them about inconsequential things, like getting muddy or losing a bow and only hit them when you’re angry. There’s a whole section in the book about how to ‘accidentally’ kill unwanted children without losing a kindly reputation or being executed for murder - it’s essentially to let children do all the risky/stupid things that come into their minds without stopping them. It’s most important to quash any signs of intelligence in children, “unless you can in some way to turn it to your profit”.
Lovers only get a paragraph, they torment each other with the same instinct they have “to perform the act of respiration.”
As for friends, the most equal relationship in the book, it’s all about picking the right ones. Many people may seem to be natural tormentees, talking of benevolence and friendship but they can’t be trusted. It’s when a friend is actually seen performing a good act that it’s clear they are tormentable. There are many ways to torment them; feign illness and ruin parties, tell others their secrets as if by accident, be alternately clingy and pushy - the right friend will take everything and come back for more.
This book gives many practical ways to torment those around and even includes an exemplar of a long weekend and how to ruin it for everyone. The best thing is how it ventriloquises the tormentors, giving specific insults to use and excuses to make. There’s a real sense that every piece of nastiness in the book has been observed by Jane Collier, whether to her or to someone else and she is loving every minute of playing the role of tormentor rather than victim.
A fable at the end of the book recontextualises the whole book, taking away any feeling that the author is actually a nasty person and leaving a thoughtful sting. It’s about a poem signed with an L that perfectly encapsulates the moment a prey animal is savaged. Some thing the lion wrote it, or the leopard - but it’s actually the lamb, as only the prey can really understand the process of savaging. In this way it becomes clear that Jane Collier herself has been tormentee rather than tormentor and that this book is her revenge.
It’s a shame Jane Collier died so young, this is a really funny and confident work. Her only other piece was written with Sarah Fielding and called The Cry, which I’d absolutely love to read. She died the year after, having planned a sequel called The Laugh. I’d love to have more from her but she died when she was 40. It’s a real shame.
My copy includes the ‘advertisement to the reader’ from the second edition which explains there not being many additions to the work because the author was taught “if you have nothing to say, don’t say it”, a maxim I wish more writers would adhere to. it also explains that she is not going to pad out the beginning with complementary letters she’s received, it’s not that she hasn’t received them, it’s that people are so full of “good nature and universal benevolence” that they’d assume the letters were made up. To be fair, such letters often were.
The book then goes through numerous relationships, explaining how to torment best within them. it’s interesting to note that until the chapter on friends at the end, those relationships all have unbalanced power structures and the tormentor is always the powerful one. As much as I’d have liked a sequel about how the less empowered could torment those above them, it’s fitting that this book aims only at those with power already, as it’s really an attack on domestic abuse of power.
Tormenting isn’t about causing great harm, it’s not a deep jab with a knife but gently prodding the victim to “waste by degrees”. An ingenious tormentor starts of nicely, sets themselves up as friend or kindly employer before wearing the victim down. Raised expectations of kindness not only create more pain when they are let down, but mask the tormenting as it begins. Kindness exists in the book’s conception of the world but it is a rare commodity to be spent frugally and for specific purposes.
Examples of this include nursing a sick servant through bad health so that the tormentor can use that debt of gratitude at every moment after. Not that it matters so much when a servant is bullied into leaving, they are a commodity that can be easily replaced. If the tormentor has taken in a poor woman out of charity, there are two ways to go. The pretty ones can be teased about their looks and stupidity, infantilised, talked down to and treated as a pretty little pet. The smart, ugly ones can be given the “usual” insults given to smart women, make sure to call her a “wit” often.
Children are great. Not only can they be tormented, and actually have less legal recourse than anyone else in society, but they can be raised to torment others and even themselves. “Breed them up properly, to be a torment to themselves if they live, and a plague to all your acquaintance.” The key to this is doting neglect, let the children do anything and have anything they want. Only punish them about inconsequential things, like getting muddy or losing a bow and only hit them when you’re angry. There’s a whole section in the book about how to ‘accidentally’ kill unwanted children without losing a kindly reputation or being executed for murder - it’s essentially to let children do all the risky/stupid things that come into their minds without stopping them. It’s most important to quash any signs of intelligence in children, “unless you can in some way to turn it to your profit”.
Lovers only get a paragraph, they torment each other with the same instinct they have “to perform the act of respiration.”
As for friends, the most equal relationship in the book, it’s all about picking the right ones. Many people may seem to be natural tormentees, talking of benevolence and friendship but they can’t be trusted. It’s when a friend is actually seen performing a good act that it’s clear they are tormentable. There are many ways to torment them; feign illness and ruin parties, tell others their secrets as if by accident, be alternately clingy and pushy - the right friend will take everything and come back for more.
This book gives many practical ways to torment those around and even includes an exemplar of a long weekend and how to ruin it for everyone. The best thing is how it ventriloquises the tormentors, giving specific insults to use and excuses to make. There’s a real sense that every piece of nastiness in the book has been observed by Jane Collier, whether to her or to someone else and she is loving every minute of playing the role of tormentor rather than victim.
A fable at the end of the book recontextualises the whole book, taking away any feeling that the author is actually a nasty person and leaving a thoughtful sting. It’s about a poem signed with an L that perfectly encapsulates the moment a prey animal is savaged. Some thing the lion wrote it, or the leopard - but it’s actually the lamb, as only the prey can really understand the process of savaging. In this way it becomes clear that Jane Collier herself has been tormentee rather than tormentor and that this book is her revenge.
It’s a shame Jane Collier died so young, this is a really funny and confident work. Her only other piece was written with Sarah Fielding and called The Cry, which I’d absolutely love to read. She died the year after, having planned a sequel called The Laugh. I’d love to have more from her but she died when she was 40. It’s a real shame.
July 21, 2021
What a terrific essay into a pretty common form of fun back in the day (1753). Frankly, even more so today. This has a good amount of humor including LOL situations you wouldn't expect from that time period.
March 2, 2024
wildly funny and a huge 18th c. slay
March 27, 2024
welcome to watch mojo: top 10 ways to psychologically torture your friends and family
April 3, 2024
poor people suck!
July 16, 2025
Collier takes no prisoners. Genius.
August 1, 2025
Uni reading list AMW1 — Jane is iconic for this, what a woman, the things she is teaching me…
“It is from suffering, and not from inflicting torments, that the true idea of them is gained.”
“It is from suffering, and not from inflicting torments, that the true idea of them is gained.”
January 11, 2026
Dawn of Print Module - Portfolio Assignment
Satirical Reading Focus
Satirical Reading Focus
February 9, 2024
Honestly, this was great fun. It was a witty play on Swift's "Direction to Servants", and in many ways made it better. Simply too long, however. It is about 100 pages of more or less the same joke.
November 27, 2020
For school... wasn't for me...
February 5, 2014
A nice manual on how to be an asshole. This is probably one of the better books I've had to read for my eighteenth-century lit course -- and some biting satire was an especially welcome respite after all that dreadful sentimental literature. I especially appreciate Collier's creative and vivid vocab; according to Audrey Bilger's introduction, Collier's essay is cited 64 times in the OED.
March 30, 2016
I stumbled across an old copy of this at my school library during college. A guide to annoying everyone from your servant to your spouse written in the mid 18th century. Absolutely hilarious. And, it's written by a woman which is pretty rad given the time and content.
September 10, 2010
Very witty but also very verbose
December 31, 2012
Actual rating: 3-4 stars.
Displaying 1 - 20 of 20 reviews