How we cite our quotes: Citations follow this format: (Act.Scene)
Quote #1
Septimus: If the margin of his copy of Arithmetica, Fermat wrote that he had discovered a wonderful proof of his theorem but, the margin being too narrow for his purpose, did not have room to write it down. The note was found after his death, and from that day to this --
Thomasina: Oh! I see now! The answer is perfectly obvious! [...] There is no proof, Septimus. The thing that is perfectly obvious is that the note in the margin was a joke to make you all mad. (1.1)
While Septimus takes Fermat's note at face value, Thomasina reads between the lines. Perhaps she's reading her own prankster personality into Fermat, or maybe she's right. In any case, she raises the issue of the reliability of texts – we can't know what a person was thinking when they wrote something, whether they were being tricky or truthful. So using writing as evidence requires some critical thinking (just like writing an English paper). This also comes up with Chater's inscription in Septimus's copy of his book (see below).
Quote #2
Chater: "To my dear friend Septimus Hodge, who stood up and gave his best on behalf of the Author – Ezra Chater, at Sidley Park, Derbyshire, April 10, 1809." There, sir – something to show your grandchildren! (1.1)
Does Chater realize the sexual double entendre of his dedication? Given his general stupidity, it seems doubtful. Bernard certainly doesn't get it when he reads the words two centuries later, underlining how important context can be in understanding writing.
Quote #3
Thomasina: Papa has no need of the recording angel, his life is written in the game book. (1.1)
This passage juxtaposes an "objective" history (the angel on high who sees everything) with a "subjective" one (the seemingly limited account of life as reflected by bird-killing) to suggest that they are equal. Although, since recording angels don't share their diaries with us down here on earth, the only option we have is to reconstruct the past as best we can through limited records.
Quote #4
Septimus: [...] The missing plays of Sophocles will turn up piece by piece, or be written again in another language. Ancient cures for diseases will reveal themselves once more. Mathematical discoveries glimpsed and lost to view will have their time again. You do not suppose, my lady, that if all of Archimedes had been hiding in the great library of Alexandria, we would be at a loss for a corkscrew? (1.3)
Is Septimus right? Can lost literary works be written again, just as lost scientific discoveries can be re-found, or is this a fundamental difference between literature and science?
Quote #5
Bernard: You see, you have to turn over every page. (1.4)
Bernard's discovery suggests that, not only can you not judge a book by its cover, you also can't judge it by searching its text on Google Books. This kind of writing you can only find by looking at the material object.
Quote #6
Bernard: You see! They wrote – they scribbled – they put it on paper. It was their employment. Their diversion. Paper is what they had. And there'll be more. There is always more. We can find it! [...] Do you honestly think no one wrote a word? How could they not! It dropped from sight but we will write it again! (1.4)
While Bernard thinks that anything important must have been written down, the play as a whole seems to contradict his statement by showing us what really happened, and how different the past was from what the play's twentieth century scholars imagine.
Quote #7
Bernard: There is a platonic letter which confirms everything – lost but ineradicable, like radio voices rippling through the universe for all eternity. "My dear Hodge – here I am in Albania and you're the only person in the whole world who knows why. Poor C! I never wished him any harm – except in the Piccadilly, of course – it was the woman who bade me eat, dear Hodge! -- what a tragic business, but thank God it ended well for poetry. Yours ever, B. -- PS. Burn this." (2.5)
While Bernard is right on one level – the play does show us a lost, burned letter by Byron – his made-up letter suggests that history-making can be as much an act of imagination as of fact-finding.
Quote #8
Septimus: I cannot be called to account for what was written in private and read without regard to propriety. (2.6)
Is any writing private in this play? It does seem that anything written down can at least potentially be passed down through history. Letters and other documents can be read by people its writer never imagined – and given meanings the writer never intended.
Quote #9
Septimus: Now there's a thing – a letter from Lord Byron never to be read by a living soul. (2.6)
Plot-wise, Septimus burns this letter out of respect for Lady Croom, but it seems there's something deeper going on here, especially in light of Bernard's crack about the lost, burned letter of Byron. The unread letter could symbolize the necessary incompleteness of the written historical record – there could always be something disproving our theories that we don't know about. This raises the question, how can we form theories responsibly, knowing that we've always got blind spots?
Quote #10
Bernard: Of course it's a disaster! I was on "The Breakfast Hour"!
Valentine: It doesn't mean Byron didn't fight a duel, it only means Chater wasn't killed in it.
Bernard: Oh, pull yourself together! -- do you think I'd have been on "The Breakfast Hour" if Byron had missed!
Hannah: Calm down, Bernard. Valentine's right.
Bernard: (Grasping at straws) Do you think so? You mean the Piccadilly reviews? Yes, two completely unknown Byron essays – and my discovery of the lines he added to "English Bards". That counts for something.
Hannah: (Tactfully) Very possible – persuasive, indeed. (2.7)
This seems a sly comment on the argument between Valentine and Bernard over whether it's personality or knowledge that matters – because the scandal-hungry public, personalities win every time. If Bernard's discovery were only a matter of literary knowledge, far fewer people would care.