Ye Olde Mary Sue

[marycrawford]

While wandering through the Gutenberg archives, I came upon Modern Women and What is Said of Them, a collection of rather snippy articles by an unknown author, published in 1868.

I'm wondering, is the excerpt below the first description of the as yet nameless Mary Sue?

In manufacturing her heroines, the young recluse author puts on paper what she would herself like to be, and what she thinks she might be if only her eyes were bluer, her purse longer, or men more wise and discerning. In painting the slights offered to her favorite ideal, she conceives the slights that might possibly be offered to herself, and the triumphant way in which she would (under somewhat more auspicious circumstances) delight to live them down and trample them under foot. The vexations and the annoyances she describes with considerable spirit and accuracy. The triumph is the representation of her own delicious dreams. The grand character of the imaginary victim is but a species of phantom of her own self, taken, like the German's camel, from the depths of her own self-consciousness, and projected into cloudland.

This is the reason why authoresses enjoy dressing up a heroine who is ill-used. They know the sensation of social martyrdom, and it is a gentle sort of revenge upon the world to publish a novel about an underrated martyr, whose merits are recognised in the end, either before or after her decease. They are probably not conscious of the precise work they are performing. They are not aware that their heroine represents what they believe they themselves would prove to be under impossible circumstances, provided they had only golden hair and a wider sphere of action.

(from the Women's Heroines article)

Comments

[From: laurashapiro]

Wow. Yeah, that sure looks like it!

[From: klia]

It does. But, because women have basically always been ill-used, and still are, really, this can almost apply to any authoress who doesn't write females as victims, can't it? And as I read, I kept thinking of Jane Austen's characters vs. Austen, herself, who never married, never had the happy ending she wrote for her heroines, and died a fairly young woman, but who wasn't really recognized in her lifetime.

Interesting!

[From: lapillus]

I'm unsure as to whether to rejoice or to despair at the consistency of human nature.

[From: rodo]

Hmm, I love that the author says it's only done by "authoresses" and not authors. A friend of mine who studies German literature insists that Nathan the Wise (written in 1779) is a total Gary Stu. Men have been doing it for at least as long as women. She also mentioned one person who really hated Sues, but I don't recall his name.

[From: elspethdixon]

I'd also nominate Pamela and Clarissa, Samuel Richardson's eponymous heroines, as early Sues written by a man.

[From: frogspace.livejournal.com]

Men have been doing it for at least as long as women.

Karl May. Most successful German author and biggest Mary Sue ever! He even pretended (and believed?) to be his own main character, dressed up as said character and thanked his readers for the intimate relationship they shared through his adventures.

[From: marycrawford]

Oh, good point! Karl May's Shatterhand, definitely a Gary Stu for the ages. He even made up his own perfect (boy)friend in Winnetou, gotta love that.

(Sorry for the late reply; my DW comments got eaten by spamfilter.)

[From: sevilemar]

It was Ludwig Tieck (1773-1853) who said: "Das Leben besteht aus Widersprüchen, sie sollten sich auch in der Kunst spiegeln; deshalb ist die Schilderung der reinen Tugend und Unschuld stets langweilig und unpoetisch." [Live is full of contradictions; art should reflect that. Therefore it is always boring, even unpoetical, to only depict pure virtue and innocence.]

And yes, I am the friend rodo was speaking of (if you were wondering)^^

[From: redscharlach.livejournal.com]

There's also a similar rant by George Eliot from 1856, called Silly Novels by Lady Novelists (http://webscript.princeton.edu/~mnoble/eliot-texts/eliot-sillynovels.html), which contains some fabulous Mary Sue descriptions:

Her eyes and her wit are both dazzling; her nose and her morals are alike free from any tendency to irregularity; she has a superb contralto and a superb intellect; she is perfectly well-dressed and perfectly religious; she dances like a sylph, and reads the Bible in the original tongues.

[From: elspethdixon]

I was just about to mention Eliot's "Silly Novels by Lady Novelists" essay.

[From: marycrawford]

Thanks for linking me to this, that's fabulous. I love the juxtaposition of inner and outer perfection, that is indeed very Mary Sue.

(Also, sorry for the late reply; my DW comments got eaten by spamfilter.)