
What is direct quotation?
You might think the answer is clear—it is the direct transcription of another’s words. In some contexts, however, it can be unclear what counts as a direct transcription. If that’s right, then direct quotation is vague, and its representation in structural markup is an idealization.
Though I am no historian of philosophy, I have occasion to quote eighteenth century material when relevant. Quoting eighteenth century texts presents certain questions that have more and less determinate answers that reveal the vagueness of direct quotation.
First, consider whether we should preserve eighteenth century spelling. Scholarly editions of Hume’s Treatise or Locke’s (pictured here) Essay on Human Understanding do, other editions do not. Why might we preserve eighteenth century spelling when their contemporary correlates are more user-friendly? Consider the following passage from Walter Charleton’s Physiologia Epicuro-Gassendo-Charltonia or a Fabrick of Science Natural Upon the Hypothesis of Atoms Founded: Epicuruius, Repaired: Petrus Gassendus, Augmented: Walter Charlton, Dr. in Medicine, and Physician to the late Charles, Monarch of Great Britain (which I had the great honor to read in the original edition thanks to UCL’s special collections):
By the Quality of any Concretion, we understand in the General, no more but that kind of Appearance, or Representation whereby the sense doth distinctly deprehend, or actually discern the same, in the capacity of its proper Object. An Appearance we term it because the Quale or Suchness of every sensible thing, receives its peculiar determination from the relation it holds to that sense, that peculiarly discerns it.
What’s the contemporary correlate of “doth distinctly deprehend”. I know what to do about “doth”, but “deprehend”? It would be natural for us to substitute “apprehend” and so arrive at “does distinctly apprehend”, but “apprehend” is already in currency at the time of Charelton’s writing (1674). Thus the Oxford English Dictionary cites Bossewell as writing, in 1607:
A great quakyng and tremblyng dyd apprehende hys hande.
But Charleton chooses “deprehend” in its stead, so the substitution would arguably falsify Charleton’s thought.
So one problem is that there may not be a contemporary equivalent that is near enough to the eighteenth century expression. But there’s another problem with modernization. Eighteenth century philosophical and scientific texts have literary aspects marred by modernization. “Doth distinctly deprehend” is a lovely piece of alliteration. Consider the following passage from Boyle’s Some Uncommon Observations about Vitiated Sight:
The Gentlewoman I saw to day seems to be about 18 or twenty years old, and is of fine Complexion, accompanied with good Features. Looking into her Eyes, which are Gray, I could not discern any thing that was unusual or amiss; tho’ her Eye-lids were somewhat Red, whether from Heat, or which seemed more likely, from her precedent Weeping. During the very little time that the Company allowed me to speak with her, the Questions I propos’d to her were answered to this Effect.
… [W]hen I ask’d her, whether in the Evenings, when she went abroad to walk in the Fields, which she much delighted to do, the Meadows did not appear to her cloathed in Green? She told me they did not, but seemed to be of an odd Darkish Colour; and added, that when she had a mind to gather Violets, tho’ she kneel’d in that Place where they grew, she was not able to distinguish them by the Colour from the neighboring Grass, but only by the Shape, or by the feeling them.
Boyle is a natural philosopher, and yet his scientific report of cautious observations made of people with impaired vision is wonderful literature. We are impressed both by his pioneering scientific motivations and his evident humanity, a humanity made evident by his masterful description. So eighteenth century spellings should arguably be retained to preserve the literary aspects of these documents. Just think of the prosodic difference between “betwixt” and “between”.
What about eighteenth century conventions of capitalization and italicization? Should these be preserved in direct quotation? In some cases arguable, yes, since they can carry semantic significance or, at the very least, reveal patterns of emphasis that would otherwise be lost.
What about eighteenth century punctuation? Conventions of punctuation are still in flux at this time, and some of Hume’s punctuation is unintelligible by modern standards. (David Wiggins sagely advises students new to the Treatise to ignore the commas.) Given the variance with modern usage, and the obscurity of the author’s intent, one might think to do without. But arguably this is a mistake as well. Repunctuating can be tantamount to reinterpretation and very often we want to display the text so the reader can check our interpretation for themselves. Consider Locke’s characterization of secondary qualities:
Such Qualities, which in truth are nothing in the Objects themselves, but Powers to produce various Sensations in us by their primary Qualities.
The comma preceding the “but” is semantically significant insofar as it conveys something about how the subsequent clause functions. Indeed, two major interpretations of Lockean secondary qualities depend on how this is understood: Is Locke saying that the secondary qualities are nothing in the objects themselves—there are no such things—all there is the disposition to elicit various sensations in us. Or is he saying that there is nothing more to the secondary qualities than this disposition—there are such things and they are identified with these dispositions. If repunctuation risks reinterpretation, then perhaps eighteenth century punctuation should be preserved despite its sometimes somewhat whimsical application.
What about eighteenth century typography? Things are less clear, and there are several distinct phenomena. What about diphthongs or digraphs (the combination of two vowel characters)? This is arguably a piece of eighteenth century spelling and we should accord with our earlier decision. What about ligatures? Depends on the ligatures. At least my research papers are typeset with proper ligatures. Why should my eighteenth century predecessors not be accorded the same privilege? Things are not so easy however since there are archaic ligatures not in modern usage. And what about the medial “s”? Difficult for the uninitiated to read and often confused with “f”, but arguably part of the pleasure of reading an eighteenth century text. (I just reread a nineteenth century facsimile edition of Pope’s “The Rape of the Lock”. It is littered with medial “s”s and a joy to read.) Most scholarly editions do not preserve these aspects of eighteenth century typography, and that is a reasonable decision. I do not question it. I merely register my own hesitancy when considering the issue, a hesitancy typical of the application of vague concepts to borderline cases.
It is less clear than we might have thought what direct quotation is. When dealing with historical sources judgment is required. Structural markup for quotation contexts is more clear than the phenomena. It is an idealization whose application must be handled with due care.
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