In The Coquette, Foster employs a formal, elaborate, and sometimes artificial style. The novel's most important stylistic feature is its epistolary form; in other words, the entire book consists of letters exchanged between various characters. While the letters are very intimate and reveal confidential details about the characters' inner lives, they all use a formal and courteous vocabulary. For example, in an early letter to her friend Lucy, Eliza writes of her first fiancé, Mr. Haly, that
[...] my heart was untouched; and when that is unaffected, other sentiments and passions make but a transient impression.
In this passage, Eliza is saying that she was never in love with Mr. Haly and therefore not feeling particularly sad about his death. This is a major emotional revelation, but to describe it Eliza uses elliptical language that may seem obscure to the modern reader. This style reflects the linguistic conventions of the time as well as the widespread belief that emotions deviating from strictly enforced norms of virtue, modesty, and obedience—like Eliza's evident dislike of the man her parents chose for her to marry—are shameful and must be expressed subtly, if at all. (The exception to this trend in the novel is Sanford, who, compared to the other characters, can be downright crude in his correspondence.)
The novel's formality is also expressed through the elision of events that are considered too inappropriate to discuss, even within private letters. Mrs. Richman's pregnancy midway through the novel is never mentioned until after she has given birth, reflecting widespread taboos against discussing anything having to do with sex or even reproductive health. Eliza's affair with Sanford, culminating in her extramarital pregnancy, is always described euphemistically by the other characters, who describe her leaving home or going for a ride with Sanford in order to communicate that they are having sex. Even when Eliza's mother learns that she has run away from home to deliver her child among strangers, she refers to the affair obliquely, describing it only as "her great apostacy."
While the characters don't spend much time describing their homes or surroundings and make little use of imagery in their letters, they frequently use elaborate metaphors and allusions to describe their own state of mind or their opinions of other people. For example, in warning Eliza not to get involved with Sanford, Lucy tells her that
No female, whose mind is uncorrupted, can be indifferent to reputation. It is an inestimable jewel, the loss of which can never be repaired.
To a modern reader, it may seem odd for a young woman to use such elaborate language when counseling a friend on her love life. But passages like this reflect the characters' investment in both presenting a virtuous character to their friends and being able to correctly appraise the moral fiber of others, as Lucy does here.
Even though the letters are meant to provide an intimate glimpse into the characters' lives, they also contribute to a somewhat artificial style. Because the reader understands that the letters are not real, and are all composed by the same person, the author's presence in the novel's fabric is especially evident. Moreover, because every event in the plot is related secondhand—for example, the reader doesn't find out about Eliza's first meeting with Sanford until she recounts it in a letter to Lucy—the novel imposes a certain distance between the reader and the developing narrative.
In The Coquette, Foster employs a formal, elaborate, and sometimes artificial style. The novel's most important stylistic feature is its epistolary form; in other words, the entire book consists of letters exchanged between various characters. While the letters are very intimate and reveal confidential details about the characters' inner lives, they all use a formal and courteous vocabulary. For example, in an early letter to her friend Lucy, Eliza writes of her first fiancé, Mr. Haly, that
[...] my heart was untouched; and when that is unaffected, other sentiments and passions make but a transient impression.
In this passage, Eliza is saying that she was never in love with Mr. Haly and therefore not feeling particularly sad about his death. This is a major emotional revelation, but to describe it Eliza uses elliptical language that may seem obscure to the modern reader. This style reflects the linguistic conventions of the time as well as the widespread belief that emotions deviating from strictly enforced norms of virtue, modesty, and obedience—like Eliza's evident dislike of the man her parents chose for her to marry—are shameful and must be expressed subtly, if at all. (The exception to this trend in the novel is Sanford, who, compared to the other characters, can be downright crude in his correspondence.)
The novel's formality is also expressed through the elision of events that are considered too inappropriate to discuss, even within private letters. Mrs. Richman's pregnancy midway through the novel is never mentioned until after she has given birth, reflecting widespread taboos against discussing anything having to do with sex or even reproductive health. Eliza's affair with Sanford, culminating in her extramarital pregnancy, is always described euphemistically by the other characters, who describe her leaving home or going for a ride with Sanford in order to communicate that they are having sex. Even when Eliza's mother learns that she has run away from home to deliver her child among strangers, she refers to the affair obliquely, describing it only as "her great apostacy."
While the characters don't spend much time describing their homes or surroundings and make little use of imagery in their letters, they frequently use elaborate metaphors and allusions to describe their own state of mind or their opinions of other people. For example, in warning Eliza not to get involved with Sanford, Lucy tells her that
No female, whose mind is uncorrupted, can be indifferent to reputation. It is an inestimable jewel, the loss of which can never be repaired.
To a modern reader, it may seem odd for a young woman to use such elaborate language when counseling a friend on her love life. But passages like this reflect the characters' investment in both presenting a virtuous character to their friends and being able to correctly appraise the moral fiber of others, as Lucy does here.
Even though the letters are meant to provide an intimate glimpse into the characters' lives, they also contribute to a somewhat artificial style. Because the reader understands that the letters are not real, and are all composed by the same person, the author's presence in the novel's fabric is especially evident. Moreover, because every event in the plot is related secondhand—for example, the reader doesn't find out about Eliza's first meeting with Sanford until she recounts it in a letter to Lucy—the novel imposes a certain distance between the reader and the developing narrative.
