In Northanger Abbey, the narrator subjects every character to ironic mockery. But in the first and last lines of the novel, readers must question whether they are the true target of such mockery. The narrator's first and last words comprise parallel instances of situational irony. For instance, in Volume 1, Chapter 1, the narrator says:
No one who had ever seen Catherine Morland in her infancy, would have supposed her born to be an heroine.
Here, the reader's probable expectation of a remarkable heroine—who is beautiful, smart, and brave—is immediately thwarted. The irony here is that an unassuming girl like Catherine becomes the protagonist and central focus of a great novel.
Volume 2, Chapter 16 ends with a similar statement:
I leave it to be settled by whomsoever it may concern, whether the tendency of this work be altogether to recommend parental tyranny, or reward filial disobedience.
The irony here is directed at the reader. Readers might expect a neat conclusion at the novel's end. But the narrator forces readers to acknowledge, and question, the expectation that the author will tell them what to think about a story. This is ironic because what the reader likely believes (that novels have a specific, explicit message) is not necessarily true (hence the ambiguity), and any readers who believe it are just as gullible as the heroine Catherine. The narrator rather "leave[s] it to be settled" the exact nature of the story.
These two instances of ironic ambiguity, which are placed strategically at the beginning and end of the novel, make the reader question why the story was told in the first place. They also subvert traditional expectations of narrative form in order to cultivate the reader's interest in characters who, to the untrained eye, might seem unworthy of becoming the subject of a novel.
The relationship between Catherine and the General is a great example of situational irony. Situational irony occurs when something happens that is the opposite of what is expected to happen. Based on her Gothic fantasies, Catherine expects the General to be a murderer. And based on Catherine's interactions with Henry, the General expects her to be an heiress whose fortune will save the abbey. However, they both turn out to be incorrect. The General is not a murderer; he is simply not a good person. And Catherine is not an heiress; she is an ordinary woman in love with Henry.
Catherine's ridiculous assumption is made clear by the narrator's use of understatement. In Volume 2, Chapter 10, the narrator says:
But in the central part of England there was surely some security for the existence even of a wife not beloved, in the laws of the land, and the manners of the age. Murder was not tolerated, servants were not slaves, and neither poison nor sleeping potions to be procured, like rhubarb, from every druggist.
The phrase "murder was not tolerated" greatly understates the legal and moral implications of the act. At this moment, Catherine tries to assure herself of the General's innocence with calm, orderly thoughts and soft statements. But soon she gets swept up in her Gothic fantasies, and when she hears that the General's wife has died, she decides that he has murdered her and begins searching for evidence. What she perceives as an act of heroism, however, eventually gets her kicked out of the Abbey.
The use of situational irony creates intrigue and permits insight into the minds of both Catherine and the General. Catherine's mind is predominantly shaped by Gothic and sentimental literature, so she makes dramatic assumptions about people's characters. And the General's mind is shaped by a desire for wealth and legacy that warps his perception of Catherine. An especially ironic twist is that these two characters have a common goal: to preserve the Abbey. And Catherine's original assessment of the General's character was correct—he is not a nice character, and he is the person from whom the abbey must be rescued.
In Northanger Abbey, the narrator subjects every character to ironic mockery. But in the first and last lines of the novel, readers must question whether they are the true target of such mockery. The narrator's first and last words comprise parallel instances of situational irony. For instance, in Volume 1, Chapter 1, the narrator says:
No one who had ever seen Catherine Morland in her infancy, would have supposed her born to be an heroine.
Here, the reader's probable expectation of a remarkable heroine—who is beautiful, smart, and brave—is immediately thwarted. The irony here is that an unassuming girl like Catherine becomes the protagonist and central focus of a great novel.
Volume 2, Chapter 16 ends with a similar statement:
I leave it to be settled by whomsoever it may concern, whether the tendency of this work be altogether to recommend parental tyranny, or reward filial disobedience.
The irony here is directed at the reader. Readers might expect a neat conclusion at the novel's end. But the narrator forces readers to acknowledge, and question, the expectation that the author will tell them what to think about a story. This is ironic because what the reader likely believes (that novels have a specific, explicit message) is not necessarily true (hence the ambiguity), and any readers who believe it are just as gullible as the heroine Catherine. The narrator rather "leave[s] it to be settled" the exact nature of the story.
These two instances of ironic ambiguity, which are placed strategically at the beginning and end of the novel, make the reader question why the story was told in the first place. They also subvert traditional expectations of narrative form in order to cultivate the reader's interest in characters who, to the untrained eye, might seem unworthy of becoming the subject of a novel.
