A Journal of the Plague Year by Daniel Defoe
Well, we seem to be spending time in slightly dark territory on the Ramblings at the moment: from the impulse to self-destruct we move on to plague… I blame external forces of course (lovely Fitzcarraldo volumes and flash sales, the Backlisted Podcast); nevertheless, I don’t always want to be reading lighter works, although after these two I think I might need some contrast… 😉
Daniel Defoe is, of course, best known as the author of “Robinson Crusoe”; it’s a book I read some time ago, pre-blog, and of course everyone probably knows the plot. I’ve heard him called the inventor of the novel as we know it, and certainly his characters and works have entered into the collective consciousness. “A Journal of the Plague Year” is a more unusual beast; it’s purportedly just that, a record of the year the Great Plague took hold of London, killing hundreds of thousands of its population, as well as spreading to some other parts of England. Our narrator is only identified at the very end of the book by a pair of initials, H.F., and he stays in London during the plague as our witness.
So we follow H.F. as he watches the Bills of Mortality announcing the number of deaths; as he ranges the oddly deserted streets, noting the marks on the doors of people’s houses indicating infection, with a Watchman stationed outside to let nobody in or out; and as he visits the plague pits, dug to bury the dead as there are so many of them that the traditional methods have gone out of the window. H.F. relates tales tragic and hopeful; of families dying out completely, of the charity of human beings, of the watermen down on the river going into hiding on their vessels, of a group escaping into the country and setting up camp. And over all of this the spectre of the plague looms and rages, killing seemingly indiscriminately, coming and going in ferocity, until the people of London wonder, at the height of its power, if anyone will actually survive.
But alas! This was a Time when every one’s private Safety lay so near them, that they had no Room to pity the Distresses of others; for every one had Death, as it were, at his Door, and many even in their Families, and knew not what to do, or whither to fly.
“Plague” is not a book that’s a quick or easy read, but it *is* incredibly vivid and compelling; Defoe captures the landscape of Mediaeval London and its people quite wonderfully, and it’s obvious that he knew both well. The City comes alive, with its narrow winding streets, dirt and grime, bustling population and wooden buildings. Really, the city itself is the main player in the story; HF, although he reveals a little about himself, is an observer and chronicler, there to be our eyes and ears, giving us a terrifying glimpse into the past.
…there was more of a Tale than of Truth in those Things.
You might wonder whether a book like this is relevant to us in our modern world, but it most certainly is. So many of the elements of life Defoe writes about are incredlby modern: from the quack doctors and those peddling scam cures, to the nascent mass media to the folk devils created by the popular imagination, this is a world very recognisably ours. So many things resonated with me; truly, humans and their quirks and their world might change superficially but underneath we’re still pretty much the same and driven by the same desires and fears.
We had no such thing as printed News Papers in those Days, to spread Rumours and Reports of Things; and to improve them by the Invention of Men, as I have liv’d to see practis’d since.
The writing and the narrative structure are fascinating as well. The book is incredibly atmospheric, with Defoe/H.F. capturing the sense of impending doom that spreads over the city, that feeling of being trapped and unable to escape the coming doom. The concept of the streets of London being empty and deserted is one that nowadays we would always connect with some kind of disaster taking place, and it was no different back in Defoe’s day. In many ways the book set the template for plague literature to come; for example, Camus draws heavily on it, although his book is an allegory. The book is very discursive, too, contrasting H.F. going back and forward between events with laws and regulations, statistics from the Bills and stories of individuals or groups trying to escape the plague. That structure echoes the ebb and flow of the plague as it moves from west to east across London, its virulence rising and falling, until finally the tide turns and its strength diminishes before finally dying away. Interestingly, the forthcoming Great Fire of London is referred to, although oddly H.F.’s narrative implies the plague was gone before the scourging flames of the Great Fire arrived to finish it off. Strangely, I believe modern thinking is that H.F. might be right…
I found “Plague” an utterly absorbing read, one which opened a window onto an area of the past as well as convincing me that the underlying nature of human beings really doesn’t change. Certain sections were quite chilling, particularly the part when H.F. visited the Plague Pits where people were being flung nightly in an attempt to keep everyone properly buried. These pits are still there under the modern city of London we know, and have been excavated in recent years when works are done in the metropolis; it’s a little scary how the past reaches out into our lives. I was also struck by the fact that, despite the city having been razed by the later fire, so many of the place names H.F. mentions are familiar ones which still exist now. Apparently, the city was rebuilt over the original street plan, but with brick instead of wood and no open sewers – all of which must have been a vast improvement on the narrow, filthy and teeming streets of plague time…
So – is this history masquerading as novel or the novel as history? I don’t actually think that matters for a book as special as this. Defoe himself was five when the plague broke out, so may well have had some memories of the tumult. Additionally, he had an uncle called Henry Foe (H.F.!) who stayed in London during the plague, and it’s probable that he drew on his uncle’s memories or journals. However, he’s known to have consulted any number of reference works on the period, and knowing enough about what had happened coupled with his talents as a writer combines to make the narrative a most convincing one – and as has been said elsewhere, the nearest thing to a gripping contemporary account.
You might wonder why should you read this book nowadays? Any number of reasons, really. To get a glimpse of human beings under extreme situations, and a look at old London before it was lost in the fire; to see that there really isn’t much in our modern world that hasn’t happened before; and to enjoy the writing of an early master of the novel. “Plague” is dark reading in places, but there are also uplifting moments and an underlying faith in the fact that whatever gets thrown at it, humanity will survive. I don’t know that I would have picked this up if the Backlisted Podcast hadn’t sung its praises so highly; but I’m really glad I did!
*****
As you can see from the image, I have two different editions of “A Journal of the Plague Year” – I suffered raging indecision when trying to decide which edition to buy and ended up with the Penguin Classic (you can’t go wrong with a Penguin Classic) and the Norton Critical Edition. Both are excellent versions to have, being based on the original 1722 edition, but the supporting material is different in each. The Penguin comes with useful notes and chronology, Anthony Burgess’s introduction to the 1966 Penguin English Library edition, as well as glossary and map. The Norton Critical version perhaps looks a little more widely, with excerpts from other plague literature which come up to the contemporary, as well as other material from the time. I read the Penguin because the type was bigger(!), the book easier to hold (Penguins tend to flop open nicely and stay in place), and the extras were just enough for me at the time. However, I’ve been dipping into the Norton supporting material too, and it *is* good. So maybe if you can find both of these versions at a reasonable price, you should consider investing in them both… 🙂
Oct 07, 2019 @ 07:40:44
I love how the Backlisted podcast has played a part in inspiring you to read this. The Backlist effect in action. so to speak. As for the book itself, it sounds incredibly rich and layered – a visceral read in many respects.
Oct 07, 2019 @ 09:40:43
The podcast is amazing and a very bad influence… ;D And yes – the book is visceral in places but very powerful and readable. I’m glad I was nudged into reading it!
Oct 07, 2019 @ 07:56:41
Oh gawd, not one I could manage. The layers of London are fascinating, though: I read a book about the tunnelling for the new London train lines that covered a lot of that stuff.
Oct 07, 2019 @ 09:39:59
It’s grim in places, but utterly compelling nevertheless. And yes – the stuff about the layers under London is fascinating and it’s quite chilling to think that burials from so long ago are being disturbed…
Oct 07, 2019 @ 10:11:16
Superb review. I have been thinking about reading this. I had feared that it might be a bit dull but I guess that is not the case.
You raise a good point, there are some constants in human nature that do not change over time, or between cultures for that matter.
Oct 07, 2019 @ 10:13:38
PS – When I read a traditional book, font size is an important issue for me too. One of the reasons that I now prefer ebooks is that I can control font size.
Oct 07, 2019 @ 11:24:38
Definitely – as my eyes get older it’s increasingly an issue. Trouble is, I like a paper book best… ;D
Oct 07, 2019 @ 11:24:10
Thank you Brian. It’s a fascinating book – discursive and full of all sort of facts, but never dull. And the people and their behaviour follow very recognisable paths!
Oct 07, 2019 @ 11:09:39
This sounds fascinating, and thought I don’t think its a book for me I suspect that the Man of the House would love it.
Oct 07, 2019 @ 11:25:04
It’s not for everyone, definitely – but maybe will help with your Christmas shopping! 😀
Oct 07, 2019 @ 11:20:14
I read this before I ever came to London, so the place names were not familiar – and I’m afraid of rereading it now, because I might get nervous about using the underground in certain places…
Oct 07, 2019 @ 11:26:08
LOL. I certainly take a second look at London as I travel through it – there are so many modern and new buildings in the areas I frequent, but lots of ancient bits tucked away that often seem to reach back centuries. It’s most certainly a city with a long history…
Oct 07, 2019 @ 11:57:42
The question of verisimilitude (is this eyewitness testimony pretending to be fiction, or the other way round?) is an interesting one, particularly as Defoe was writing at a time when asserting the truthfulness of your text was a pretty standard writerly move, regardless of genre. Awkwardly, I’m going to blow my own horn and say that I wrote a post about it a few years ago that deals with exactly this, amongst other things, and that it lives here: https://ellethinks.wordpress.com/2015/01/11/14-a-journal-of-the-plague-year-by-daniel-defoe/
Oct 07, 2019 @ 13:58:12
Don’t be awkward – blow away! :DDD It’s a fascinating question and one which raises all sorts of thoughts about whether *any* non-fiction text is entirely “true”. I shall check out your post! 😀
Oct 07, 2019 @ 12:33:15
This has been on my TBR forever, its great to hear how highly you rated it and how relevant it still is! Defoe is such an engaging writer. I have the Penguin edition but I do think those Norton editions are excellent.
Oct 07, 2019 @ 13:57:06
It’s definitely worth your time and the Penguin is the ideal reading edition. The Norton’s nice too, and I enjoyed exploring them both tbh! 😀
Oct 07, 2019 @ 16:21:16
This sounds utterly brilliant, thank you for posting about it, I don’t think I would have found it otherwise! We are just people aren’t we, whatever time in history or nationality, just the same.
Oct 07, 2019 @ 18:48:55
It is an excellent book, and says so much about the human condition. It’s quite gripping, too!
Oct 07, 2019 @ 17:46:47
This sounds like a remarkable book. I read Robinson Crusoe and Moll Flanders about thirty years ago but hadn’t considered this as one I might want to read. You make it sound wonderfully compelling as an historical document in part. I agree that people are essentially the same underneath it all, I have often thought that when reading about people of the past.
Oct 07, 2019 @ 18:46:43
It’s absolutely fascinating, both as a window into the past and also as a story in its own right. And yes – I don’t think basic human nature changes much, despite the superficial trappings!
Oct 07, 2019 @ 20:01:58
This is on my list to read. Sounds really good! Thanks for the reminder!
Oct 07, 2019 @ 21:54:58
Welcome! I do recommend it! 😁
Oct 07, 2019 @ 21:00:11
I’ve never really considered reading this, but I will now! I’ve always found the plague fascinating to read about (I know that sounds a bit morbid) so I’m sure I would enjoy it.
Oct 07, 2019 @ 21:54:36
It’s certainly a fascinating and absorbing book, and if you’re interested in the topic an essential read, I would say!
Oct 08, 2019 @ 08:25:45
Since deciding to read more 18th C literature I’ve actually read relatively few but Defoe, and especially this one, is near the top of the list. I’ve only heard good things about it so I’m glad that you liked it as well.
I read Rachel Rideal’s book on ‘1666’ earlier this year which made me want to read ‘Plague Year’ and Pepys’s diaries even more.
Oct 08, 2019 @ 14:42:48
Defoe’s great generally and I though this was such a gripping book. Hope you get to it eventually! And one day I really would like to read Pepys….
Oct 08, 2019 @ 08:53:45
I like the proto-modern technique of a narrative purportedly an auto fiction- including journalistic lists, reportage; but there are mini-narratives embedded. The one about the town that tried to quarantine itself is chilling.
Oct 08, 2019 @ 14:41:59
It *is* a very modern book in many ways, isn’t it? And I assume you mean the village of Eyam – very chilling indeed. I saw a TV play about the place back in my teens called “The Roses of Eyam” and it’s stayed with me ever since.
Nov 21, 2019 @ 09:24:06
I read this myself some weeks ago, and was similarly fascinated by it, to the extent that I’ve been looking for other, more modern, texts about that particular plague outbreak to get a modern perspective. I got it off Project Gutenberg, but I’ve been debating whether it’s worth getting myself a scholarly edition, for the notes and essays and so on.
Nov 21, 2019 @ 11:26:51
It is indeed fascinating, and if you haven’t read Camus’ “The Plague” I would highly recommend it. And yes to a scholarly edition – I found the extra material in the Penguin edition to be excellent, and am making my way through the Norton as well which perhaps goes more widely into the subject and might be what you want. Do listen to the Backlisted Podcast on the subject too – it’s all fascinating stuff.
Mar 23, 2020 @ 06:28:46