55 pages • 1 hour read
A modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
The passport mentioned in A Sentimental Journey is not a passport as the modern reader might conceive it. In truth, it is more akin to a modern visa, a permission notice allowing the holder to travel and reside in a particular country without suffering the authorities’ attentions. In the text, Yorick is so keen to travel to France that he forgets to obtain a passport in advance. When he reaches France, it takes a few days before his error is discovered, whereupon the master of the hotel visits him and tells Yorick that the police are searching for him and that he might be arrested. To Yorick, lonely imprisonment is the worst possible punishment and obtaining a passport is the only way to ward off this issue.
As such, the passport comes to represent a number of points. Firstly, it is one of the best examples of Yorick’s impetuous and impulsive nature. The entire premise for traveling to France stems from a discussion Yorick has with one of his friends. When he makes up his mind, he does not think about minor details (such as having legal permission to travel or packing his clothes), but rushes straight to Dover to catch the next ship to France. Yorick himself confessed that obtaining a passport “never enter’d my mind” (41), as he was so swept up in his idea of writing a travel book. As is demonstrated later in the text, the passport is an important document. That Yorick should not even mention its existence until Chapter 40 is telling. Such minor considerations pale in comparison to the romantic ideals that take over Yorick and drive his impulses.
As well as representing many of Yorick’s most flighty characteristics, the passport helps to reveal his deepest fears. After Yorick is told about the arrival of the policeman and the serious nature of the matter, he begins to obsess over his punishment. The master of the hotel tells Yorick that he might be “sent to the Bastille or the Châtelet” (41) and, from there, the image of the prisoner takes over. Yorick is a talkative, social man. The idea of being separated from conversation and social events terrifies him. He tries hard to alleviate this fear, plunging deep into the etymological roots of the word “Bastille” to try and normalize it, dismissing everything that it represents. But he cannot. The “terror is in the word” (42), he admits.
Added to this, the fear about the passport is demonstrated by Yorick’s interactions with La Fleur. When La Fleur talks to Yorick about the issue, the latter decides to put on a brave face, so as not “to torture La Fleur” (41). He is worried that the genial servant will become less genial and optimistic if the true seriousness of the issue is revealed. Typically, Yorick is blunt and honest with Yorick. They talk about serious and trivial matters and Yorick rarely thinks to hide anything from the Frenchman. But on this issue, he decides to act in a different manner. The truly serious nature of the issue is revealed because of this, as Yorick wishes to downplay the terror he faces.
The final symbolic point made by the passport is subtler. To resolve the situation, Yorick decides to visit an aristocrat in Versailles and implore the man to help him. On arrival, he finds that the man is busy, so decides to call in at a different house. Though this meeting is not without its difficulties, Yorick succeeds in obtaining a passport from the count. Like that, the threat is removed and he can continue on his journey. The incident calls the reader to question the nature of the class system as it exists in both Britain and France. The ability to call unannounced at the home of a wealthy French aristocrat is not one which is available to all people; working class (or lower middle class) people would not have been able to simply arrive at the home of the duke or the count and ask for help. But Yorick can, and the action is not questioned. Furthermore, Yorick arrives at these places with the full belief that he will be granted an audience (and even leaves when he has to wait two hours). Yorick has internalized these classes privileges, not questioning whether someone like La Fleur would be granted the same opportunities. Unlike many of the social conventions observed in the text, this one passes by unmentioned and is more visible to the modern perspective. However, it remains a telling way in which the passport helps the reader to determine the inter-class relationships in France of the era.
Upon learning about his difficult circumstances involving the passport, Yorick walks through the hotel and discovers a starling trapped in a cage. The bird appears to talk to him, having been taught a few select words by its previous owner. Yorick tries to free the bird but fails, though he informs the reader that the bird eventually travels across Europe as something of a novelty and, in doing so, becomes very famous. As well as being one of the stranger incidents Yorick encounters during his trip to France, the incident is loaded with symbolism.
The most obvious of the starling’s metaphorical qualities is its situation; it is a songbird, calling out to be freed from a cage. Coming as it does at this particular moment in the text, when Yorick is facing a lengthy stint in the Bastille, Yorick finds himself sympathizing with the bird’s plight and endeavors to free it. When he fails, however, he sinks back into the pessimism he was enduring before discovering the bird. Yorick finds himself equally as trapped, the cage of bureaucracy potentially limiting his excursion in France before a very real cage limits him further. When the bird calls to him, repeating “I can’t get out” (42), Yorick feels the pain hitting him, reminding him of his own upcoming sentence.
The starling is also one of the few entries in the travelogue whose narrative extends before the timeframe of the text. As an aside, Yorick mentions that, during his “return from Italy” (44), he retrieves the bird and takes it on a tour of the continent. The starling gains some degree of fame, its travels allowing it to take on a notoriety that extends beyond the words it says. It is possible to read this entry into the text as wishful thinking on the part of Sterne, who hopes that his words will travel across Europe in much the same way once his book has been released.
Additionally, the fact that the time frame of the starling extends beyond the contemporary narrative of the text demonstrates that Yorick is writing after the event. Though he has explicitly stated a number of times that he is writing after the fact, little moments such as this help to provide a moment of emotional resolution to otherwise isolated incidents. Leaving the bird trapped in the cage is not a satisfying end to the metaphor; instead, Sterne extends it beyond the timeframe of A Sentimental Journey and develops and deepens the meaning. In doing so, the starling becomes even more likened to Yorick (and the author).
Music as a motif helps Yorick to understand the people he meets during his various travels. In addition to dance (which is always tied to music in the text), music becomes a point of common interest across cultures. Whether it is La Fleur and his flute, the French farmhouse and their religious thanksgiving dances, or the opera, each of these instances of music appearing in the text helps Yorick to better understand French culture and society.
The first appearance of the word “music” in the text appears in Chapter 7, in which Yorick expounds on his beliefs of the nature of travelers. He says that “knowledge […] is like music in an Italian street” (12), by which he means that it is free for all to enjoy, a kind of ambient resource that defies class, education, mood, personality, or any other factor. As knowledge is available for everyone, so is music. This is evidenced elsewhere in the text, wherein Yorick finds examples of a love of music across every societal divide.
One of the best examples is La Fleur. When introduced to La Fleur, Yorick describes him to the reader as being essentially useless. Yorick says that “poor La Fleur could do nothing in the world but beat a drum, and play a march or two upon the fife” (22), seemingly suggesting that the only two obvious skills he possesses are musical in nature. La Fleur’s music talents are not rich; he does not possess the ability to play more than one or two songs on his pipe. However, when searching for redeeming qualities in the man, this is what Yorick finds. On their introduction, when Yorick is searching for common interests and a way to evaluate La Fleur, it is these musical skills which, although not much, are still worth mentioning. It is a way of demonstrating the man’s worth, even when looking across cultures.
Another interesting example of music being used as a societal intersection is the opera. Yorick’s visit to the opera is described across two chapters, though he rarely mentions the actual music being performed. Instead, he uses the event to discuss his various findings about the French and to relate one anecdote–the instance with the dwarf and the German–which is among the most famous in the book. At the opera, disparate parts of society come together. There is the French captain, Yorick the British travel writer, the dwarf, and the belligerent German. All of them are thrown into close quarters, people who might not normally meet, because of their love of music. Music becomes the nexus point of society, so when Yorick wishes to understand France, he attends a musical event. Rather than describing the music, he focuses on the way that society interacts with and appreciates the music.
Yet another interpretation of music’s place in society can be found late in the text, when Yorick visits a French farmhouse and stays with them for a meal. After the meal, there is “the grace” (69). This is a ritualistic use of dance, where the family lay out a stage after supper and dance as a form of thanksgiving. According to the patriarch of the family, “a cheerful and contented mind was the best sort of thanks to heaven that an illiterate peasant could pay” (70), and Yorick agrees with him, saying “or a learned prelate either” (70). Once again, Yorick has found a musical situation that breaks down traditional societal divides and can be appreciated regardless of economic class. Yorick stumbles across the home and learns that this grace is performed every night, so sees fit to include it in the narrative as a point at which the British readers can empathize with and understand their French counterparts. Yorick does not need to explain how these people interpret dance in the religious sense; he agrees with them instantly and passes that agreement along to the reader, using music and dance to provide a better understanding of another society.
Plus, gain access to 8,800+ more expert-written Study Guides.
Including features:
By Laurence Sterne