{"id":181,"date":"2020-01-09T13:45:30","date_gmt":"2020-01-09T18:45:30","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/exhibitions.lib.udel.edu\/victorian-passions\/?page_id=181"},"modified":"2020-04-21T14:42:33","modified_gmt":"2020-04-21T19:42:33","slug":"a-passion-for-fame","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/exhibitions.lib.udel.edu\/victorian-passions\/home\/a-passion-for-fame\/","title":{"rendered":"A Passion for Fame"},"content":{"rendered":"\n<p><strong>John Forster, 1821\u20131876. <\/strong><em><strong>The Life of Charles Dickens<\/strong><\/em><strong>. London: Chapman and Hall, 1872\u20131874. Anthony Trollope\u2019s copy.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Their passions for writing\u2014and for making money in the process\u2014were equally strong, but in temperament, methods, and public personae, Dickens and Trollope could not have been more different. Charles Dickens (1812\u20131870) was a hurricane-like force blowing through the Victorian world, sweeping along thousands of readers with his serialized fiction, while attempting to sweep away social ills such as child labor. (This posthumously published biography by his friend John Forster would reveal the lifelong psychological damage caused by Dickens\u2019s own boyhood employment in a factory.) The youth of Anthony Trollope (1815\u20131882) too, had been traumatic; he compensated by leading a disciplined and orderly life as an adult, balancing the composition of novels with a civil service position in the Post Office. In&nbsp;<em>The Warden<\/em>&nbsp;(1855), the first of the \u201cBarsetshire\u201d novels, Trollope unleashed his talents as a parodist with a wicked imitation of Dickens\u2019s exhortative literary voice. He was on record as finding Forster\u2019s biography \u201cdistasteful\u201d for revelations about Dickens\u2019s youth and personal relationships. Reading it helped determine Trollope to be more cautious in producing his own&nbsp;<em>Autobiography<\/em>&nbsp;(1883).<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><em>[UD_EXHIBITION_ITEM]<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p style=\"text-align:left\">By 1858, Charles Dickens\u2019s discontent with domestic life and his adulterous passion for a much younger actress, Ellen Ternan (1839\u20131914), had divided him from his wife Catherine Hogarth Dickens (1815\u20131879) and split apart their family of nine children.&nbsp;Their adolescent daughter Catherine (known both as \u201cKate\u201d and \u201cKatey\u201d), who had always been her father\u2019s favorite, went to live with him. Their relationship was sometimes turbulent, but her respect for him as Victorian Britain\u2019s most celebrated novelist shows in this portrait. Her own passion was for art, especially for painting. It endured through her passionless marriage to the artist Charles Collins (1828\u20131873)\u2014brother of the novelist Wilkie Collins, her father\u2019s close friend\u2014and, after her husband\u2019s death, through her marriage to another artist, the Italian-born Carlo Perugini (1839\u20131918).<br><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><em>[UD_EXHIBITION_ITEM]<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>By the late 1870s, there was no question that \u201cGeorge Eliot,\u201d the pen name of Mary Ann Evans (1819\u20131880), was the object of public acclaim. In private, however, she remained a polarizing force, especially in literary circles. While she had long inspired passionate devotion in women friends and in a number of men\u2014including, of course, her romantic partner George Henry Lewes (1817\u20131878) and, after Lewes\u2019s death, the much younger John Cross (1840\u20131924), to whom she was briefly married\u2014she proved off-putting for some male writers and artists, especially those of the up-and-coming generation. For them, her appearance, which was not traditionally feminine or delicate, combined with her gravity, sagacity, and insistence upon weighing all matters in ethical terms, made her less than appealing. To George Du Maurier, for instance, she seemed an almost gargoyle-like figure. In this unflattering sketch probably done from life, the cartoonist for&nbsp;<em>Punch<\/em>&nbsp;and future author of&nbsp;<em>Trilby<\/em>&nbsp;(1894), who valued the lightness and wit of the Parisian&nbsp;<em>vie de boh\u00e8me<\/em>, demonstrated in visual terms how inimical to his own tastes he found her.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><strong>George Gissing, 1857\u20131903. <\/strong><em><strong>New Grub Street: A Novel.<\/strong><\/em><strong>\u00a0London: Smith, Elder, 1891. Advance copy sent to Frederick Dolman: with autograph letter to Dolman, 2 April 1891.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Passion for a wife who does not share his values proves the undoing of Edwin Reardon, protagonist of this notoriously grim novel about the literary marketplace of the 1880s. The plot reflected George Gissing\u2019s own sad circumstances, as not once but twice he married women who viewed with incomprehension his dedication to intellectual and artistic pursuits and refusal to write what might be popular and profitable. To Gissing, as well as to the idealistic and thus poverty-stricken authors who inhabit his fictional modern Grub Street in London, the periodical press was a particular&nbsp;<em>b\u00eate noire<\/em>, responsible for corrupting the tastes of the British public. It is no surprise that, in the letter shown here, Gissing turned down a request from the journalist Frederick Dolman to be interviewed for the&nbsp;<em>Pall Mall Gazette<\/em>, insisting that his novel (which Dolman received in this unique trial binding in red cloth) would have to speak for itself as \u201ca work of art,\u201d and that he had \u201cnothing of interest\u201d to say to the magazine\u2019s audience.<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><em>[UD_EXHIBITION_ITEM]<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p style=\"text-align:left\">While acknowledging Rudyard Kipling\u2019s power as a writer, Max Beerbohm deplored the use to which he put his talents as the mouthpiece for British Imperialism. The assumed&nbsp;coarseness and affected Cockney slang, the bluster and militarism, the sentimental jingoism\u2014all offended Beerbohm to the core. In Kipling\u2019s hyper-masculine posturing, too, Beerbohm sensed overcompensation for his being short of stature; thus Beerbohm loved to draw him as smaller-than-life. That a man of such ignoble passions would be awarded the 1907 Nobel Prize in Literature was the last straw. In this caricature, Algernon Swinburne (1837\u20131909) and George Meredith (1828\u20131909)\u2014both of whom Beerbohm considered more deserving of the award\u2014occupy the Empyrean heights, and (Thomas) Hall Caine (1837\u20131909) gazes balefully on Earth, as Kipling struts away with his swag. This drawing was owned by the critic Edmund Gosse (1849\u20131928), who was a friend of all the men depicted and of the artist, as well.&nbsp;<br><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><em>[UD_EXHIBITION_ITEM]<\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p style=\"text-align:left\">Max Beerbohm\u2019s impulse to caricature rarely extended to women subjects; he exercised his talent for mockery more often at the expense of men. In this case, his target was not actually the physical appearances of the Bront\u00eb sisters, to whom he gave lopsided faces balanced on awkwardly drawn bodies, but the famously stiff and amateurish group portrait of Anne, Emily, and Charlotte by their brother. This lampoon of the painting by Branwell Bront\u00eb (1817\u20131848) occupies the background. The foreground is taken up with an imaginary conversation between the journalist Clement K. Shorter (1857\u20131926) and Alexander Nelson Hood (1814\u20131904), 1<sup>st<\/sup>&nbsp;Viscount Bridport and 4<sup>th<\/sup>&nbsp;Duke of Bront\u00eb, as Shorter implores the aristocrat to \u201cpull a wire or two at Court, and get Lottie and Em and Annie made Duchesses in retrospect!\u201d Shorter\u2019s passion for the Bront\u00ebs was well known,&nbsp;and it fueled the writing of multiple studies, such as&nbsp;<em>Charlotte Bront\u00eb and Her Sisters<\/em>;&nbsp;<em>The Bront\u00ebs and Their Circle<\/em>; and&nbsp;<em>The Bront\u00ebs: Life and Letters<\/em>.&nbsp;<\/p>\n\n\n\n<p><em><strong>The Four Seasons.<\/strong><\/em><strong>\u00a0[London]: Curwen Press, [1922]. Pocket calendar, used by John Drinkwater as an autograph book.<\/strong><\/p>\n\n\n\n<p>Although he was born in the nineteenth century, John Drinkwater (1882\u20131937) was not a Victorian author; his career as a published poet, playwright, and critic began after the death of the Queen in 1901. But his passion for collecting autographs from the many writers whom he met socially meant that his little book of signatures united past and present, as well as figures from both sides of the Atlantic. On these randomly opened pages, we find Sir Anthony Hope Hawkins (1863\u20131933), author of&nbsp;<em>The Prisoner of Zenda<\/em>&nbsp;(1894), across from James Joyce (1882\u20131941), in the year when&nbsp;<em>Ulysses<\/em>&nbsp;appeared in book form. So, too, the name of Israel Zangwill (1864\u20131926), the great chronicler of late-Victorian Anglo-Jewish life, sits opposite that of Sinclair Lewis (1885\u20131951), the equally great chronicler of small-town American life, in 1922, the year of&nbsp;<em>Babbitt<\/em>. Women writers are also represented, as the presence of the novelist Sheila Kaye-Smith (1887\u20131956) attests. Elsewhere, Drinkwater has managed to persuade even Virginia Woolf to sign her name in this unprepossessing-looking pocket calendar.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>John Forster, 1821\u20131876. The Life of Charles Dickens. London: Chapman and Hall, 1872\u20131874. Anthony Trollope\u2019s copy. Their passions for writing\u2014and for making money in the process\u2014were equally strong, but in temperament, methods, and public personae, Dickens and Trollope could not have been more different. Charles Dickens (1812\u20131870) was a hurricane-like force blowing through the Victorian [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":8,"featured_media":0,"parent":167,"menu_order":3,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"page-exhibition.php","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-181","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/exhibitions.lib.udel.edu\/victorian-passions\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/181"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/exhibitions.lib.udel.edu\/victorian-passions\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/exhibitions.lib.udel.edu\/victorian-passions\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/exhibitions.lib.udel.edu\/victorian-passions\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/8"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/exhibitions.lib.udel.edu\/victorian-passions\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=181"}],"version-history":[{"count":8,"href":"https:\/\/exhibitions.lib.udel.edu\/victorian-passions\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/181\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":292,"href":"https:\/\/exhibitions.lib.udel.edu\/victorian-passions\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/181\/revisions\/292"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/exhibitions.lib.udel.edu\/victorian-passions\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/167"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/exhibitions.lib.udel.edu\/victorian-passions\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=181"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}