Part 7 - Safiya Hashi
The continuation of chapters XI and XII of Wilkie Collins’s The Moonstone sets a tone of unease and mistrust within the Verinder household, following the theft of the diamond and Superintendent Seagrave’s failed investigation. However, the introduction of Sergeant Cuff shifts the narrative, injecting new excitement with fresh clues, a new perspective, and a confrontation with Rachel Verinder. The effect of this dramatic shift varies significantly when read in different periodicals: All The Year Round, which is straightforward and focused on literature, and Harper’s Weekly, which features an array of advertisements, comics, news, poetry, and illustrations. This difference in printing elements is significant because it affects how readers engage with the drama. Christopher Pittard’s analysis of The Strand Magazine in “Cheap, Healthful Literature: The Strand Magazine, Fictions of Crime, and Purified Reading Communities” suggests that printing saturation plays a role in shaping the reader's experience; potentially amplifying the sensationalism of the story. While All The Year Round focuses on the narrative itself, Harper’s Weekly’s variety of content, including visual elements, may evoke a more dramatic, sensationalist reading experience. Furthermore, as Molly Knox Leverenz discusses in “Illustrating The Moonstone in America: Harper’s Weekly and Transatlantic Introspection,” the transatlantic cultural context in Harper’s Weekly, with its emphasis on global expansion, captures the United States sentiments and aspirations, influencing their interpretation of the story. Consequently, the same chapters of The Moonstone could be perceived differently based on the reader's location: British readers might focus on the clues and the investigation, while American readers may emphasize the sensational and mysterious elements of the story, influenced by the cultural and editorial context of the periodical in which they encountered the work
The global reports in Harper’s Weekly, particularly those beyond England’s Fenian War, reflect the publication’s effort to acclimate its American audience to globalisation. The news that is reported often refers to America’s potential political ventures, and highlights the growing animosity between Great Britain and America. A discussion of the Alabama Claims suggests “future administrations may not be so amicably inclined” (Harper’s Weekly 99), signaling the contentious international relations of the time. The remark “Thus civilization continues to press forward” (Harper’s Weekly 99) highlights America’s view on forced globalisation. Leverenz notes that earlier issues of Harper’s Weekly emphasised America’s expanding global reach, such as the comment, “the more we penetrate toward the East, the greater is the purity with which they have been preserved” (Leverenz 34). While the illustrations in The Moonstone show “both pity and fear to the plight of the Indians” (Leverenz 38), they also convey a firm sense of American solidarity. The international focus in Harper’s Weekly would likely lead American readers to approach new characters and details in The Moonstone with suspicion, interpreting them through the lens of global conflict. This perspective is textually reflected in the worldly Franklin Blake’s own guardedness in these chapters; he distrusts Superintendent Seegrave, believes Rosanna Spearman “knows about the Diamond” (Collins 88), and even feels “uneasy about [Rachel]” (Collins 99).
The proposed legislation regarding naturalised citizens and government protection sparks a discussion on the political and legal rights of naturalised citizens abroad. While the author questions the frequent use of “English Common Law” (Harper’s Weekly 98) for American citizens, a comparison is made between transatlantic citizens. This comparison highlights the absurdity of a country of origin maintaining allegiance, and thus an obligation to protect, all citizens originally belonging to it. It also “reveals how common it was for Americans to understand themselves in relation to England…even while underscoring American differences from Britain” (Leverenz 29). This "us vs. them" sentiment reinforces readers’ pride in their American identity and their right to be recognized as American. Despite this clear conclusion the reader is meant to reach the article's questioning tone encourages readers to engage with the material. For example, when discussing an absurd provision that would grant the President immense power, the article suggests it will likely be revised in future legislation but asks, “But why report absurd provisions at all?” (Harper’s Weekly 98). This invitation to question underscores that Harper’s Weekly not only reports news but also prompts introspection and reflection, even when it may challenge the author’s own view.
One of the few non-serial pieces in this issue of All The Year Round is an article on British literature, dating from the pre-Victorian era to modernity. Unlike Harper’s Weekly, which reports modern global news, All The Year Round focuses on reminding readers of their proud British heritage in both history and art. This emphasis on British patriotism informs the narrative of The Moonstone, particularly through the character of Sergeant Cuff. Endorsed by high-ranking London officials, Cuff’s sudden appearance and immediate trustworthiness fulfill readers’ expectations that answers will follow. When it is asserted that “When it comes to unraveling a mystery, there isn’t the equal in England of Sergeant Cuff” (Collins 93), why would a reader not trust in this pinnacle of British law? The relative lack of varied content in All The Year Round creates a discrepancy between allowing readers to form their own conclusions while still encouraging them to trust figures of status to guide those conclusions. This textual dynamic reflects the authority figures in British society: apart from Collins, All The Year Round published works by only Charles Dickens and the royal family, suggesting that status alone grants one the privilege of publication. This hierarchical structure is mirrored in Cuff’s methods; like Sherlock Holmes, Cuff embodies quiet intellectual superiority. Seemingly absent-minded, the best detectives allow those around them to underestimate their abilities, thereby manipulating others to offer information freely. In doing so, Cuff ensures that readers are not given direct access to all the details, making it clear that they must trust his superior intellect. As Pittard notes, this strategy prevents the reader from “getting too close to the fictional detective, and certainly not to compete with him” (Pittard 10).
The accompanying illustration for chapters XI and XII in Harper’s Weekly, disproves the American notion that The Moonstone “is a purely English text because it has an English author [it is] disrupted by its American illustrations.” (Leverenz 22) Depending on the reader’s background, the illustrated inquest scene could appear either accusatory, intensifying Sergeant Cuff’s mysterious, calculating nature, or mistrustful, emphasising Rachel’s withdrawn behavior. This split in interpretation reflects not only differences in characterisation, but also cultural biases: the British reader may view the scene as a necessary confrontation with authority, while the American reader might view the same scene as an exercise in suspicion. Pittard’s contrarian assertion that illustrations “reinforce the suppression of sensationalism” (Pittard 14) offers another layer of interpretation. Rather than heightening drama, the illustration's restraint serves to direct the reader’s attention to the core question of the chapter: what is Rachel concealing? While British readers might interpret Rachel’s disregard for proper behavior as a result of stress, American readers, heavily influenced by the social context of their time, might see it as an example of hidden guilt. The illustration captures this tension visually, where “Sergeant Cuff’s immovable eyes never [stirring] from off her face” (Collins 98) suggests he sees what the reader cannot yet. Within the context of Harper’s Weekly’s American readership, the illustration and Cuff’s enigmatic statement, “Nobody has stolen the Diamond” (Collins 102), would likely be interpreted through a distinctly American lens; emphasising individualism and self-reliance, while potentially downplaying the collective trust in British systems of justice. The American perspective, shaped by a history of questioning authority and a rising sense of national identity, offers a more skeptical reading of the characters’ interactions. Meanwhile, the British context frames the story within the reassuring structure of the rule of law and social hierarchy, suggesting a different kind of suspense, one rooted in tradition rather than suspicion.
In conclusion, the periodical printings of chapters XI and XII of The Moonstone demonstrate how subtle changes in printed elements, both content and illustrations, affect interpretations of the mystery. These elements' impact extends beyond the isolated experience of All The Year Round compared to the more communal experience of Harper’s Weekly. Each publication contributes to an unknowing bias, subtly reinforcing the ideals of its country of publication. The political contexts woven into these different printings certainly shape who is considered suspicious and influence how readers perceive "unreliable" narrators. Just as the characters’ biases cloud their judgment, so too does the magazine’s perspective cloud that of the readers. For example, with a modern lens, we might see the clues missed by the characters: Rosanna’s flirtatious hints to Franklin, for instance, seem to obviously suggest he stole the diamond, but these would likely go unnoticed by readers shaped by the print medium of their time. Though my analysis of print bias primarily focuses on the American patriot and British imperialist, there are undoubtedly publications of other dates that would focus on elements of racism, or sexism, or culture which would further shape how readers missed, or misinterpreted, key clues. After all, sensationalism is rooted in the assumption that the narrative is widely different from the contemporary worldview; what is perceived as surprising is shaped by the biases and expectations of society. The differences in how the story is presented All The Year Round and Harper’s Weekly simply demonstrates the ranging viewpoints of the time. As it is in The Moonstone, so it is in its publication: it is all a matter of perspective.
Works Cited
Collins, Wilkie. The Moonstone. Oxford University Press, 2019. Print.
Dickens, Charles. “Royal English Authors.” All The Year Round, 15 February, 1868: p. 234.
Print.
Leverenz, Molly Knox. "Illustrating The Moonstone in America: Harper’s Weekly and
Transatlantic Introspection." American Periodicals: A Journal of History & Criticism, Volume 24, no. 1, 2014, pp. 21-44.
Pittard, Christopher. "Cheap, Healthful Literature: The Strand Magazine, Fictions of Crime, and
Purified Reading Communities." Victorian Periodicals Review, Volume 40, Number 1, Spring 2007, pp. 1-23.
Unknown Author. “Foreign News.” Harper’s Weekly, 15 February, 1868: p. 99. Print.
Unknown Author. “Native and Naturalized Citizens.” Harper's Weekly, 15 February,
1868: p. 98. Print