To imitate is an attempt to ‘be there’, to enter into someone else's role. Equally, we might understand it as an act that distances us from that present and presence. As we have seen with Samuel Richardson's Pamela (see Chapter 9), the author's claim was for his heroine's inimitability. Others look and behave like her but the measure of their failure to match up is shown in that they do not command the same sway: in fact, they do not invite imitation as she does. However, imitation also puts the original under threat, the threat of erasure, the accusation that the authority it claims is empty if it can be exactly copied by others. Homi Bhabha describes mimicry as an effective destabilising practice in colonial discourse:

Mimicry was a staple technique of the eighteenth-century theatre for a number of reasons. It was an effective procedure for a partisan stage and a competitive market. Overt partisan, sexual or libellous reference in a play text risked censorship, whereas an impersonation of the gestures and style of a well-known public figure would not be recognised in an otherwise unmarked playscript. After the Licensing Act, unlicensed or temporarily licensed stages attracted audiences by mocking the two theatre managements (Covent Garden and Drury Lane) that held licences. Actors’ power to mimic could be a source of revenue and fame – as well as infamy.