Book Review: The Turkish Embassy Letters by Lady Mary Wortley Montagu
And here’s another review! There should be one more today after this one, and then probably a few days (hopefully no more than that) break. This review was actually ready before King Lear, but I like to publish reviews in the order that I finish books, so that’s why I held off. As usual, the review is out of five stars, and if you’re only interested in my general thoughts and rating, skip to the end. Enjoy! ♥︎
But I had rather lose the pleasure of reading several witty things, than be forced to write many stupid ones.
— i.
We travellers are in very hard circumstances. If we say nothing but what has been said before us, we are dull and we have observed nothing. If we tell anything new, we are laughed at as fabulous and romantic, not allowing for the difference of ranks, which afford difference of company, more curiosity, or the changes of customs that happen every twenty year in every country. But people judge of travellers exactly with the same candour, good nature, and impartiality, they judge of their neighbours upon all occasions. For my part, if I live to return amongst you, I am so well acquainted with the morals of all my dear friends and acquaintance that I am resolved to tell them nothing at all to avoid the imputation (which their charity would certainly incline them to) of my telling too much. But I depend upon your knowing me enough, to believe whatever I seriously assert for truth, though I give you leave to be surprised at an account so new to you.
So this book is another work of non-fiction, specifically in epistolary/letter format. Lady Mary Wortley Montagu follows her husband on his travels to Turkey, and writes to friends, colleagues, and family back home in England. This book is a collection of those letters. This review will also be a bit different than my usual review process, because it’s a collection of letters rather than one straight storyline. So without further ado, let’s go!
— ii.
Human understanding is as much limited as human power or human strength. The memory can retain but a certain number of images, and ’tis as impossible for one human creature to be perfect master of ten different languages as to have in perfect subjection ten different kingdoms, or to fight against ten men at a time.
Lady Mary Wortley Montagu is interesting to say the least. I find her to be very pragmatic and truthful. If you’re ever looking for a travel narrative that doesn’t over-dramatize certain events or customs, I’d definitely recommend this one. I find her to be very sympathetic towards Turkish people and customs (not in general considering she’s still a white upperclass woman from England, but in comparison to other English visitors/travellers), which was sort of surprising for me. I also liked her description of everything she saw. I only wish she was a little more imaginative, not with embellishing what she saw/experienced, but rather making conclusions from her experiences, since she didn’t do much of that. I always find conclusions/opinions of travellers to be the most interesting part of a travel narrative, so when she didn’t do much of that, it was slightly disappointing. Nevertheless, her letters are a great collection to read, and it shows how women travel narratives are far superior to those of men, in my opinion.
— iii.
I confess I am malicious enough to desire that the world should see to how much better purpose the Ladies travel than their Lords; and that, whilst it is surfeited with Male-Travels, all in the same tone, and stuffed with the same trifles, a lady has the skill to strike out a new path, and to embellish a worn-out subject with variety of fresh and elegant entertainment. For besides the vivacity and spirit which enlivens every part and that inimitable beauty which spreads through the whole, besides the purity of the style for which it may justly be accounted the standard of the English tongue, the reader will find a more true and accurate account of the customs and manners of the several nations with whom this lady conversed than he can in any other author. But as her ladyship’s penetration discovers the inmost follies of the heart, so the candour of her temper passes over them with an air of pity rather than reproach, treating with the politeness of a Court, and the gentleness of a Lady, what severity of her judgment cannot but condemn.
I liked how Wortley Montagu’s tone and writing technique varied a bit depending on who she wrote to. I think this is what I found most interesting about the book. It showed how much of a layered person she was. Not to be basic, but it sort of reminds me of when Taylor Swift said that we only know the version of someone they choose to show to us. I really felt that as I was reading Wortley Montagu’s letters. I think the most interesting characters to read about (whether fiction or non-fiction) are the ones who are not as black and white or as simple as they should be. The ones who alter their identity, even if in the slightest possible way, depending on who they’re with or what they’re doing. And I feel like Lady Mary is that person, whether or not it was her intention. Honestly, as someone who isn’t a super big fan of non-fiction, I think this is what saved the book for me. If she was a genuinely simple/plain person, who wrote in the same style to everyone regardless of who they were, I would have been bored to death the entire time.
— iv.
Thus you see, dear Sister, the manners of mankind do not differ so widely as our voyage writers would make us believe. Perhaps it would be more entertaining to add a few surprising customs of my own invention, but nothing seems to be so agreeable as truth, and I believe nothing so acceptable to you. I conclude with repeating the great truth of my being, dear Sister, etc.
Overall, considering I’m not a fan of non-fiction, the book was good. Not my usual cup of tea, but Lady Mary Wortley Montagu was an interesting person, and I feel like I’d like to have known her. I didn’t talk a lot about the Turkish customs she observed, mainly because I didn’t feel like it was my place to do so, but she was probably the most truthful of all the English travellers that I know of to go to Turkey/out east. I don’t think she deconstructs the racist narrative of “the East” or the more derogatory term (which I will not mention you can just google it honestly), but she doesn’t necessarily contribute to the narrative either, which also makes her more bearable than other English travel narratives.
Do you have a favorite travel book, whether fiction or nonfiction? If so, please let me know what it is in the comments below!
Rating: ★★★ | GoodReads
