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I Know My Own Heart: Publishing Anne Lister’s Diaries

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n the debates over scholarly best practice and methodology within the field of textual criticism, the rift between historians engaging in literal transcription, or documentary editing, and literary editors extolling the necessity of eclecticism in critical editions has been frequently discussed by scholars such as G. Thomas Tanselle and others. The primary source of this rift frequently lies in the difference between the types of documents edited by each group—historians tend to work with letters, diaries, and other such frequently private papers, while literary editors tend to focus on literary texts and documents that were explicitly prepared for publication. Critics like Tanselle have noted, however, that it can be appropriate and even desirable for editors of private papers to engage in critical editing in the production of their texts. The unique textual circumstances surrounding the diaries of Anne Lister offer textual scholars the opportunity to blend these two traditions and consider alternate techniques that are rarely used for such private documents. The diaries of Anne Lister (1791–1840) have received significant scholarly and literary attention in the past several decades due to feminist reclamation projects that focus on recovering the texts of “lost” women writers. Born in Halifax, England in 1791 to an upper-class family, Anne Lister kept extensive diaries for most of her life. These diaries detail her


everyday life, financial transactions, descriptions of her interactions and correspondence with friends and neighbors, and, what has proved most interesting to historians and other scholars, detailed and explicit descriptions of her affairs with women. In total, Lister’s diaries consist of over four million words and were written in two thin exercise books and twenty-four hardback volumes; they begin in 1806 when she was fifteen and, with some six years’ gap due to missing or unrecovered volumes, continue nearly uninterrupted until her death in 1840. These diaries reveal the inner thoughts and character as well as create a record of the day-to-day life and typical activities of a woman frequently considered extraordinary for her time. The aspect of the diaries that has most interested scholars and critics, however, is the fact that approximately one-sixth of their total volume was written in Lister’s own secret code consisting of a mixture of Greek letters and self-devised symbols. It is these coded entries that explicitly discuss her feelings for, and love affairs with, the women of her acquaintance. Clearly never intended for publication, or for any readership outside Lister herself, the diaries were discovered after her sudden death and decoded by John Lister, a relative and heir to her estate, and John Burrell, a colleague of his. Upon realizing the content of the coded sections, the diaries were hidden behind a panel in the wall of the library and remained there until John Lister’s death in 1934.1 While throughout this time Anne Lister remained a person of some interest to local historians, and her manuscript 1. John’s colleague Arthur Burrell actually recommended that the diaries be burnt due to their “offensive” content; historians have attributed Lister’s scholarly and antiquarian instincts for feeling that it would not be right to destroy the diary completely. While no record of Lister and Burrell’s transcription exists, the cipher to the code was given by Burrell to the chief librarian in Halifax after the diaries’ recovery in 1934.


pages remained in library archives, very little public knowledge of her diaries and their contents existed. It was not until Helena Whitbread—a local historian who had originally begun work on Anne Lister’s letters—found and transcribed the diaries that any attempt at publication or other dissemination of their contents was attempted. Using John Lister’s original key, Helena Whitbread eventually decoded and transcribed significant portions of the diary entries. The first volume of Lister’s diaries to appear in print was published in the UK by Virago in 1988; this edition, entitled I Know My Own Heart: The Diaries of Anne Lister (1791–1840), contained an abridged selection of entries dating from March 21st, 1817 to August 23rd, 1824. Most subsequent publications of the diaries have also focused on entries made during that time period, and most were also edited by Helena Whitbread; however, several editions and versions2 of the diaries do explore the later periods of Anne Lister’s life. A follow-up version of the diaries, also edited by Whitbread, entitled No Priest but Love: Excerpts from the Diaries of Anne Lister, 1824–1826, was published in 1992 and focused on diary entries from the two years following the timespan included in the first edition. This volume appears, as does the original American publication of I Know My Own Heart, in the Cutting Edge: Lesbian Life and Literature series published by New York University Press. Unlike the reprint of the first volume, however, No Priest but Love was published with a large trim size entirely on photopaper and features 2. I use “version” here rather than “edition” to signal the difference between publications containing the same (or similar) range of diary entries and publications that deal with an entirely separate range of dates (i.e. “edition” will refer to all publications of the diary entries ranging between 1816 and 1824; “version” to publications that contain other dates). As a term, “version” is perhaps not ideal, but some differentiation between the two concepts is necessary for a careful discussion of the issues surrounding the text.


thirty-seven black and white photographs.3 The most commonly read and reprinted version of the diaries, however, is the series of editions based on Helena Whitbread’s original work; these publications exhibit some differences between editions, but are structurally quite similar. The first several published editions of the diaries feature body text in which no differentiation between sections written in Lister’s “plainhand” (i.e. the non-coded sections) and “crypthand” (i.e. the coded sections) has been made, although punctuation and paragraph breaks have been imposed onto the text in order to create a more standard-looking document. By contrast, the 2010 edition features an attempt to differentiate between the portions of text written in plainhand and the portions written in crypthand. The crypthand sections are differentiated from the rest of the text by being set off in italics. This editorial decision effectively attains two goals: one, that readers of the text can differentiate between the two types of writing; and two, that the reader’s eye is drawn more strongly to that text because it is immediately perceived as different. The italicized crypthand is not further set off from the text— it appears within (editor-imposed) paragraphs of plain text to match the appearance of code within a body of plain text in the manuscript originals. All editions of the diaries edited by 3. Of all the published versions of the diaries, Jill Liddington’s work, Female Fortune: Land, Gender, and Authority: The Anne Lister Diaries and Other Writings 1833–36, offers the most distinct editorial outlook. Liddington’s book is categorized as biography, as much of the body text was written by Liddington and sourced from extensive research into Lister’s correspondence and other sources to supplement the information found in the diaries. Unlike traditional biography, however, Liddington’s work features lengthy excerpts from the diaries. Additionally, Liddington is explicit in referring to her text as a narrative constructed to conform to her specific academic project; rather than assuming that careful curating of the entries will “reveal” a fixed narrative and “truth” about Lister, she uses the documentary evidence to explore the ways in which Lister’s lesbian identity and actions were simultaneously constrained and made possible by her time period and her peers.


Whitbread additionally feature editor commentary between entries, summarized from entries that were not considered interesting enough to be included, in order to more fully flesh out the story of the relationship. These sections include references to Anne’s travels and feature editorializing by Whitbread. For example, between entries dated November 16 and November 18, 1819, Whitbread writes “On 18 November, Anne decided to go to Manchester after all to meet M— and spend a night together without the presence of M—’s husband, C—, to inhibit them” (ikmoh 118). Her editorial interruptions are made to keep the story moving along; however, the end result is not a clean, linear narrative that has been surgically extracted from the text, but rather a narrative that has been imposed upon the text by systematically de-privileging and ignoring other, often competing, narratives. The explicitly constructed nature of this text makes unmistakable the collaborative nature of authorial process. In imposing a strictly controlled narrative onto the published diaries, Whitbread acts as author to the text in equal part with Lister. The consequences of the editor and publisher’s decisions regarding presentation of the text can be examined most usefully by comparing the first edition and the 2010 edition, also published by Virago. Gerald Genette’s theory of paratexts, the “fringe of the printed text which in reality controls one’s whole reading of the text….[paratexts] constitute a zone between text and off-text,” provides a productive framework for studying these differences (qtd. in Gardiner 257). While the body of the text remains nearly identical between these editions in terms of editorial intervention between entries and in the choice of entries to be included, the messages surrounding that text differ significantly between the two


editions. The first edition, published in a large format trade paperback, has for peritext (Genette’s term for the fringe elements physically attached to the text itself ) an introduction by Whitbread that briefly summarizes the life of Anne Lister and outlines some of Whitbread’s difficulties in transcribing the manuscript as well as the editorial choices she made when doing so. The body text itself, as noted above, features an abridged selection of entries with no differentiation between coded and non-coded sections of the diaries. The book also features a short list of footnotes briefly explaining allusions to individuals and cultural references. The cover of the book, though no doubt in style at the time, appears dated to a modern reader. In contrast with the original 1988 edition (and even with the purpose of that edition as outlined in the introduction), the 2010 publication of selections from Anne Lister’s diaries represents the most concerted effort to market the text to a mainstream audience. While previously, academic audiences had been familiar with the scholars writing about Anne Lister in journals and with the scholars sitting on the panels of the Cutting Edge series, the 2010 edition marks a turn toward actively seeking mass readership. This shift in focus is not accompanied by a renewed look at the manuscript of the first published edition, however. The most significant revisions to the body text from one edition to the other are the decision to set off coded sections in italics and the addition of the 1816 entries—for which her initial omission from publication Whitbread offers no reason or justification. This edition was printed as a trade paperback with a much smaller trim size; the cover features images and typeface not unlike those frequently seen on contemporary works of historical fiction. These design considerations have a dual function—in using


typeface that will appear old fashioned to readers, but which is still in common use to market certain types of texts, the book’s design simultaneously brands the book as historical in scope while updating its appearance to look contemporary in comparison with the 1988 edition. The cover copy of the 2010 edition features blurbs from Emma Donoghue, Sarah Waters, and Jeannette Winterson—who number among the highest-selling lesbian fiction writers today. As in other editions, this text also features an introduction by the editor; some of the text in this section remains the same as in the 1988 edition, but much of it has been added and emended. Included in Genette’s definition of the “fringe elements” of the text are matters relating to the text that exist outside the printed book. In the case of the 1988 edition, the epitext originally consisted mainly of several scholarly and critical articles in academic journals related to women, gender, and sexuality studies. By the 2010 edition, however, all previous editions form a part of the reader’s understanding of the book. In addition to those editions aimed primarily at a limited audience, the current epitext of the published diaries includes several BBC-produced films about Anne Lister (a dramatization of the diaries and a documentary of Lister’s life). These paratextual shifts mark the beginning of a truly mass audience outside the realm of academia. The editorial orientation underlying the first edition of the diaries is in part rooted in the tradition of historical or documentary editing, though other more critical considerations also come into play. In the words of G. Thomas Tanselle, “Historians have not generally dealt with [critical editions of texts] because the material they have typically edited consists of letters, journals, and other similar manuscripts, which are


more likely to call for literal transcription than critical emendation. For them, the issue of historicism…is apt to be whether eclectic texts…can ever be preferred to diplomatic transcriptions of single documentary texts (“Historicism and Critical Editing” 4). While Tanselle agrees that diplomatic transcriptions and other less critical work may sometimes be appropriate for documents not originally intended for publication, he argues that it should not be a foregone conclusion that critical editing cannot be done on such documentary texts. This conclusion rings particularly true in the case of Anne Lister’s diaries. Whitbread and other editors of the diaries seem to take it for granted that a great deal of critical work must be done in order to prepare the diaries for publication—they select the entries or portions of entries for publication, they decode and transcribe the coded entries while adding normalized punctuation to make those sections comprehensible to readers, and they annotate the entries with further information regarding events and people as necessary—and it seems incredibly unlikely that any editor would ever suggest publishing a literally transcribed (i.e. neither decoded nor abridged) version of the manuscript. Any tendency toward documentary editing and literal transcription revealed by the editors might be in part due to the lack of variants where only one copy of a text exists, but even this is not always true for Lister’s diaries. Anne Lister kept an index of notes separate from her main diaries, and it was from these original notes that she composed her diary entries; Whitbread uses these indexes where diary entries are incomplete or missing. In doing so, she has in a sense followed the tradition of Greg, Bowers, et al. in choosing a “copy-text” to default to and looking at variants where information does not exist in the manuscript; she


departs from Greg’s school, however, in that he advises using the copy-text as the authority on accidentals such as punctuation, and Whitbread chooses to ignore her copy-text in favor of standardizing and modernizing punctuation, paragraph breaks, and other such considerations. This choice to standardize (or even include at all) certain elements reflects another aspect of Whitbread’s theoretical orientation that is rooted in documentary editing. Tanselle writes that the field of documentary editing prizes readability and attention to words over other textual details like punctuation. These theoretical ideas form the foundation for Helena Whitbread’s editorial choices, particularly in the first edition of the diaries. In the introduction to her volume, Whitbread makes her editorial choices explicit: As to spelling, some of the words differ from today’s, for example, ‘shewed’ for ‘showed’; ‘sopha’ for ‘sofa’; ‘poney’ for ‘pony’, etc. Where each of these spellings first occurs, I have indicated this by ‘sic’ and thereafter left her spellings as they occur. Anne also used to vary the spellings of some of her friends’ names; for instance, Miss Brown/Browne. I have left these as they occur. Anne abbreviated almost every other word in her journal, a habit which, while economical on paper, made for confusing reading. In making the text accessible to the reader, I have put the full word for every abbreviation, particularly where she used the archaic form of ‘y’ for ‘th’, as in ‘ys.’ for this’, ‘yt.’for ‘that’, ‘ye.’ for ‘the’, and so on. There have been other obstacles to surmount in presenting the


diaries: for instance, the use of a dash for a full stop; the lack of paragraphs when Anne passed from one subject to another in the same diary entry; the non-use, on many occasions, of the personal pronoun, and other small difficulties too tedious to enumerate. The length of the excerpts varies greatly and where I have omitted passages from each entry I have used a three-point ellipses; I have not used an ellipsis at the beginning of an entry where I have omitted previous material. It remains for me to say only that throughout the undertaking, historical and textual accuracy has been an overriding concern; I have placed it equally in importance with my desire to elucidate the life of a courageous and extraordinary woman. (ikmoh xiii)4 In this passage, Whitbread makes several claims and assumptions about the text. The first assumption she makes is based on the accepted tenets of documentary editing discussed above—Whitbread assumes that the most appropriate line to be drawn by editors is located at the moment of reader comprehension. She sees it as necessary to modernize and standardize punctuation, which would confuse the reader otherwise, but not to modernize and standardize spelling, even where variation within the text exists and the correct spelling is clear. This decision betrays Whitbread’s belief in the distinction between accidentals and substantives within a text 4 An emended and expanded version of this same introductory text appears in every Whitbread edition of the diaries.


and aligns her in the same tradition as most modern critical editors and literary scholars. As Greg explains, “The former practice of modernizing the spelling of English works is no longer popular with editors, since spelling is now recognized as an essential characteristic of an author, or at least of his [or her] time and locality” (“Rationale” 21). Her decision to add sic to the first instance of each archaic spelling seems to reflect an attempt to appease a broader audience beyond literary scholars who may be less accustomed to such spellings. As Whitbread notes in the expanded introduction to the 2010 edition of the diaries, entitled The Secret Diaries of Miss Anne Lister: The coded sections posed different problems. A superficial scrutiny of the texts gives no indication whatsoever of any form of punctuation and, to add to the obfuscation which Anne obviously intended, there is no space between individual words. Only when every symbol in each extract had been decoded could a sense of what was written emerge. Even then, it had to be the decisions of the decoder to impose a structure on the sequence of words that emerged—to define where words and sentences begin and end. (Secret Diaries xi) Although she discusses the lack of punctuation in the original, Whitbread does not offer an explicit reason for imposing and standardizing such marks; she seems to take it for granted that she is expected to do this. Her claim in the first quotation that “textual accuracy has been an overriding concern,” immediately following her admission that she has normalized


punctuation, imposed her own (arbitrary) paragraph breaks into entries, and liberally added personal pronouns wherever Whitbread deemed necessary seems particularly ironic, especially given the heavily mediated and decoded nature of the published work. Given that interest in and publication of Anne Lister’s works is directly related to feminist reclamation projects that aim to discover lost or marginalized writers, theories about editing minority-authored texts provide a useful framework for examining editorial decisions. As William L. Andrews notes in “Editing Minority Texts,” “these editions [undergoing reclamation] incorporate a view of documentary editing that treats the text ‘primarily as a vehicle for meaning rather than form.’ The historian’s editorial emphasis places a premium on ‘ensuring the reader’s convenience’ in negotiating the text rather than on ensuring that whatever problematic the text may present as text is fully accounted for” (49). He maintains that this method of scholarly editing is frequently adopted by scholars recovering lost or lesser-known works by African-American authors, for whom the trend toward noncritical editions is generally favored. In these editions, “the editor’s responsibility is primarily to provide a readable reproduction of a particular edition, prefaced by a serviceable historical, biographical, and interpretive introduction, and often appended by some judicious annotating of the text itself ” (50). Andrews notes that these texts tend to lack a full and comprehensive textual apparatus. While the context surrounding publication for the African-American writers of Andrews’ concern is markedly different from that of Anne Lister’s diaries, the trend toward publishing noncritical editions with incomplete textual apparatus is quite similar. Andrews writes


that the desire for full critical editions of these works must be balanced with more practical concerns; as he argues, the best way to recover a lost work and bring to it attention and notice is not to publish a fully critical edition right off the bat, but to allow time for less-critical editions to garner interest for the work, thereby eventually necessitating the creation of an authoritative critical edition. Andrews is correct in asserting that a full critical edition is neither the most practical nor an ultimately successful means of recovering lost texts; with this thought in mind, it becomes clear why the majority of published versions of the diaries do not feature a fully comprehensive textual apparatus. The editions published thus far have been, whether explicitly or not, attempts at recovering a once-lost figure in women’s history and lesbian history. To that end, editors would seem to have been fairly successful in doing so; in addition to the near dozen editions (and multiple versions) of the diaries published over the last twenty years, there is now no dearth of information surrounding Anne Lister. Scholars have written a number of critical and historical articles and biographies of her life, and there has recently even been a televised movie adaptation of the diaries, which, along with the 2010 Whitbread edition, brought Lister’s life and story outside the realm of academia and into the popular notice. As such, it seems to be time to publish an authoritative critical edition of the diaries. In outlining plans for a new critical edition, it becomes clear that any editor undertaking the work of creating such a critical edition of these diaries will necessarily have to answer the following questions, among others: what range of dates will be included? What overarching narrative significance does this choice have on the published edition? To what


extent should spelling or punctuation be normalized or established in the text? Should a copy-text be chosen and, if so, is the original manuscript truly the best choice given the enormous amount of time and energy required to transcribe it? Since the majority of interest in Anne Lister relates to her life between the years 1816–1824, my critical edition will retain that focus.5 What that decision inevitably means for this edition is that primary narrative focus will remain on Lister’s romantic relationships with two women somewhat at the expense of other considerations (e.g. her privileged class position as heiress and eventually land-owner, and subsequent conservative political opinions). Although documentary editing is still often practiced for texts not originally intended for publication, the extensive and inaccessible nature of Lister’s diaries necessitates a different approach for this text. Adapting the methods laid out by Greg, Bowers, et al., the best approach will be to choose a copy-text. In this case, the most suitable choice for such text will be the original manuscript entries themselves; while Gaskell and others prefer the first published edition of a work as authoritative, the textual history of the diaries would render such a decision illogical, as published versions of the diaries appeared without any involvement of the author and have omitted and revised so much of the original entries. The question of whether to choose the previously decoded and transcribed entries or the manuscripts themselves is largely 5 While outside the scope of the specific critical edition I have outlined, I do think it necessary to expand the existing scholarship on the later time periods in Lister’s diaries (i.e. from approximately 1826–1840). The purpose of making Lister’s diaries known, as outlined by editors and publishers, is to shed light on at least one example of lesbian identity in the 17th century; as such, illuminating not only Lister’s early romantic affairs but also her later marriage and life is important.


a matter of both feasibility and copyright/intellectual property law. While the work of decoding and transcribing the entries is tedious and costly for publishers, copyright laws restrict access to the decoded and transcribed manuscripts. Additionally, previous transcriptions and reproductions have already seen structure and formatting imposed on the entries that did not originally exist; these transcriptions will therefore necessarily reflect the stylistic preferences of previous editors, not any quality inherent to the text. If the focus of the edition is to illuminate the details of Lister’s life and the context(s) and effects of her choices as a gender nonconforming lesbian then strict care should be taken to avoid forcing the entries into a set narrative imposed by the editor’s decision to privilege one narrative over another. Once again, current theories about the editing of minority texts prove a useful vantage point from which to view the editorial consequences of editorially imposed narrative, especially the particular narrative imposed by Whitbread and her publishers. Although the end result of these imposed narratives has no effect on the author herself, this kind of focus does speak to the ways in which current culture— whether popular or academic—deals with lesbian narratives. The majority of editions of the diaries focus extensively on Lister’s love affairs and sexuality, to the neglect of nearly all other aspects of her identity and experience.6 This focus has the net effect of essentializing lesbian identity (this is especially problematic in a time period where not all historians would agree that “lesbian identity” as it is understand today 6 The earliest editions in particular are at fault in this behavior. In the very first paragraph of her introduction to the first edition, Whitbread writes, “It is the combining of these two elements—the orderliness and, indeed, often ordinariness of the day-to-day with her romantic and sexual intrigues—which makes Anne Lister’s story such a fascinating one” (ikmoh ix).


could even be said to exist). While this aspect of Lister’s identity and writing is important—and in many ways serves as the diaries’ primary appeal to modern audiences—many editions, particularly Whitbread’s, focus exclusively on her love affairs and relationships. The end result is a text that attempts to define and characterize Lister’s identity by looking only along the axis of sexuality. The stated purpose of recovering her writings for modern audiences—to expose the seemingly extraordinary life of a determined woman—is undercut by such heavy editorial intervention into those writings that the text can hardly be said to accurately portray the historical figure it purports to represent.7 Any authoritative critical edition of the diaries must then attempt to work against completely segregating Lister’s sexuality from other aspects of her identity and experience by including other narratives, even if they are subordinate to the dominant narrative. As current print editions of the diaries already tend to run some 400 pages each, a digital edition is the only truly feasible method that will allow for the possibility of including a fully comprehensive textual apparatus. Additionally, a digital edition will provide annotative and hypertext possibilities not available in a print edition. While scholars such as Philip Doss have worried that the emendation of a text with hypertext links may serve to foreclose possible meanings within a text (“Traditional Theory” 216), careful use of hyperlinks within entries could potentially have the opposite 7 While previous editions err significantly in this respect, they do so in a frequently explicit attempt to construct a certain type of narrative and a certain type of text. Just as Shillingsburg and others have argued for temporality in textual criticism and have advocated for “a concept of a work as fluctuating in its composition and multiple in its versions” (qtd. in Cohen,“Emerging Paradigms” 117), so too can the various published versions and editions of Anne Lister’s diaries be seen to evince an ontological belief that these publications represent different texts in and of themselves, in part authored by their editors.


effect on the Lister diaries. As previous editors have noted, the diary entries are dense and often repetitive; editorial decisions to omit entries are frequently made based on the clearest and most concise description of events. The addition of competing and related entries to a hypertext structure in the document will still ascribe primary importance to the entries included as part of the main text, but for the first time, will also make available related entries. This structure would also make possible the inclusion of relevant letters and other documents within the text. Such inclusions may not be appropriate for fiction or other literary texts, but in the case of the diaries, where the purpose in publication has been to illuminate one woman’s love affairs, it seems appropriate to include correspondence between partners in some appended (i.e. not primary) capacity. As Liddington recognized, Lister’s correspondence (and that of her acquaintances) has the particular ability to illuminate the ways in which Lister interacted with the larger world, as well as the ways in which the world interacted with her. In establishing a critical edition of Lister’s diaries, it would be neither useful nor theoretically sound to have fully half that edition deal with entirely separate documents; however, selected letters and annotated historical records can form part of a useful and illuminating appendix. The possibilities of hypertext in a digital edition will prove useful in this endeavor. Additionally, hypertext links will open up the possibility of creating a primary manuscript that resembles Whitbread’s for the general reader and hyperlinks to omitted material for the scholarly critic (whether literary or textual). In this case, editorial judgment will still be necessary to develop the primary manuscript. At issue with this suggestion is that it runs the risk of reinscribing a kind of editor-imposed


narrative privileging certain entries as “primary” and others as “secondary”; however, at this point in the diaries’ publishing history, the mere inclusion of such secondary narratives will serve to destabilize the power balance between the two. In all, a comprehensive critical edition of the diaries will necessarily contain more explicitly critical judgment of textual matters, currently lacking in many of the published editions. While it is neither possible nor desirable to publish every single diary entry, the danger of selection is that it frequently reinforces a primary narrative that is not given primacy in the original documents. To the extent that Anne Lister’s authorial intention can be taken into account, the types of editorial intervention that have occurred thus far can be seen to install the editor/transcriber as co-author to the text, reifying the notion of socially constructed authorship. While these visions of the socially constructed text are useful in interpreting the various positions and intellectual projects of the diaries’ editors, they do little to address the disconnect between stated editorial intention (illuminating the life and affairs of Anne Lister) and net editorial effect (sacrificing comprehensive detail in order to relate one politically motivated narrative). Moving forward in the study of Lister’s work and life, a critical edition that at least attempts to control for these factors, all the while making explicit the various ways in which full control of these factors is impossible, will provide the best possible text for exploring the context of Lister’s life and writing.


Works Cited Andrews, William L. “Editing ‘Minority’ Texts.” The Margins of the Text. Ed. D.C. Greetham. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1997. 45–56. Print. Cohen, Philip and David H. Jackson. “Notes on Emerging Paradigms in Editorial Theory.” Devils and Angels. Ed. Philip Cohen. Charlottesville: University Press of Virginia, 1991. 103–123. Print. Gardiner, Juliet. “Recuperating the Author; Consuming Fictions of the 1990s.” The Papers of the Bibliographic Society of America 94.2 (2000): 255–274. Web. Greg, W.W. “The Rationale of Copy-Text.” Studies in Bibliography 3 (1950): 19–36. Web.

Liddington, Jill. Female Fortune: Land, Gender and Authority. London: Rivers Oram Press, 1998. Print. Lister, Anne. I Know My Own Heart: The Diaries of Anne Lister (1791– 1840). Ed. Helena Whitbread. London: Virago Press, 1988. Print.

Lister, Anne. No Priest But Love: Excerpts from the Diaries of Anne Lister, 1824–1826. Ed. Helena Whitbread. New York: New York University Press, 1992. Print. Lister, Anne. The Secret Diaries of Miss Anne Lister. Ed. Helena Whitbread. London: Virago Press, 2010. Print. Tanselle, Thomas G. “Historicism and Critical Editing.” Studies in Bibliography 39. (1986): 1–46.

Tanselle, Thomas G. “The Varieties of Scholarly Editing.” Scholarly Editing: A Guide to Research. Ed. D.C. Greetham. New York: Modern Language Association of America, 1997. Print.


I Know My Own Heart: Publishing Anne Lister's Diaries  
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