The immoral rake versus the innocent heroine
Richardson identifies the moral of his novel as a contradiction
of the precept that “a reformed rake makes the best husband.” This
misconception, he says, leads young women to prefer libertines to sober,
respectable men. The contrast between the dashing and wicked Lovelace
and the boring but good Hickman exemplifies the ease with which
this mistake can be made. Clarissa blames her pride, in thinking
she could reform Lovelace, for leading her into disaster. Her parents
are also to blame, as their autocratic measures push her right into
Lovelace’s web; the implication is that parents need to shepherd
their daughters away from danger, because young girls are unlikely
to escape it on their own.
Clarissa’s innocence is continually contrasted with Lovelace’s diabolical
talent for manipulation, and several passages discuss the hopeless
position of any girl who gives any encouragement to a rake. As a
whole, the novel provides a cautionary lesson for young women and
their parents and brands rakes as the scourge of society.
The individual versus society
Clarissa’s great struggle is for a sense of autonomy in
a society that prohibits women from wielding any power whatsoever.
The Harlowes intend to use their daughter to heighten their rank
in the bourgeois community; by contrast, all Clarissa desires is
the right to personal happiness and her parent’s consent. At the
start of the novel, Clarissa’s inheritance presents her with an
opportunity for independence from both her family and a future husband;
however, Clarissa cares more about her family’s acceptance than
about the property. In this sense, her struggle for autonomy is
also a struggle with herself. If she had accepted the estate, Clarissa
would have achieved independence from her family and the oppressive
society in which she lives; her inherent loyalty to them and to
social mores prevents her from doing so.
Although at first Lovelace seems a reasonable means of
escape for Clarissa, it quickly becomes clear to her that his intentions
are even more prohibitory to her independence. Lovelace ensnares
her in hopes of conquering such an exemplary woman: all of his machinations
further his mission to control her and triumph over her sex. Clarissa
is trapped by both factions of society: the fledgling and insecure
bourgeois family and her already aristocratic suitor. She also spends
most of the novel physically confined by others (locked in her parents’
house, in Mrs. Sinclair’s house, in Lovelace’s arms, in jail) and
only in planning for death does Clarissa seem to gain complete control
over the future.
The rewards of virtue and the punishments of evil
With the exception of Clarissa, every character in the
novel is either rewarded or punished on earth. Good people get married
(Anna, Hickman, Belford), while bad people die in misery (Lovelace,
Mr. and Mrs. Harlowe, Mrs. Sinclair, Belton) or suffer horrible
marriages (James, Arabella). Clarissa dies, too, but her death is
happy and she insists that it is actually a reward, because it allows
her to go to heaven. Although the other characters do not have to
wait for death to provide justice, their fates are delayed, so that
at many points it looks as though vice is rewarded while virtue
is punished. This, as Richardson tells us, is only realistic. But
he assures us that there is always justice in the end.
Although Lovelace seems to die honorably in a duel, an
old-fashion match marked by chivalry and grace, he has actually
been subject to twists of fate that highlight his punishments and
his ultimate poetic justice. Lovelace’s demise is inadvertently
triggered by the actions of friends and accomplices; for instance,
Sinclair’s prostitutes, his coconspirators, have Clarissa arrested
and his spy, Joseph Leman, sends Lovelace a letter about Morden’s
trip to France. Both are intended to help him but instead provoke
his downfall. On the other hand, Belford, a model of character and
reform, receives the rewards in the end that were initially intended
for Lovelace. That both men reach appropriate ends is evidence that Clarissa’s
sense of justice is truly poetic.
