tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8453537780102004032024-03-13T10:22:44.884+00:00E F Benson - The Complete WorksEwiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01925901182655242694noreply@blogger.comBlogger313125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-845353778010200403.post-32057422272121267702019-09-17T19:40:00.002+01:002021-02-17T12:53:39.939+00:00Reviews of the Works of Edward Frederic Benson (1867-1940)<span style="color: #f4cccc;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;"> </span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #f4cccc;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;">The purpose of this blog is to review, and to gather together other critics' opinions of, the entire works of E F Benson. 'Fred' is known today almost exclusively for his Mapp and Lucia novels and his ghost ('spook') stories, but in his day he was a popular and versatile author, whose career of almost 50 years saw him tackle a wide range of subjects in both fiction and non-fiction.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #f4cccc;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;">I've set myself the task of reading his entire literary output, though I'll probably have to draw the line at titles such as </span></span><span style="color: #f4cccc;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;"><i>English Figure Skating </i>and <i>A Book of Golf</i>, which would very likely kill me.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #f4cccc;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;">Though Benson is one of my favourite authors, I'm not an apologist ~ if a book's bad, it's bad ~ and he did, sadly, write rather a lot (mainly novels) that wasn't good.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #f4cccc;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="color: #f4cccc;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;">Anyway, here goes ~ I hope you enjoy the blog and find it useful.</span></span><br />
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<b><i>I realize there's no particular order to all this (other than The Order I Read Things In, which is no use to anyone, not even me), and as I can't get the 'Search this blog' function to work for the site, here's a handy alphabetical linked index instead. The novels ~ all 63 of them ~ are in bold italic; everything else isn't:</i></b><br />
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<span face=""trebuchet ms" , sans-serif"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>N.B. Items marked </b><i><b>NEW! ~ </b></i><b>these are reproduced free of charge and in full for, as far as I'm aware, the first time ever to the WWW readership.</b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b> </b></span><b><i> </i></b><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1886, aged 19</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="color: #ffd966;"><i><b><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/03/account-rendered.html" target="_blank">Account Rendered</a></b></i></span> </span><br />
<span style="color: #ffd966;"><i><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/01/across-stream.html" target="_blank">Across the Stream </a></span></b></i></span><br />
<i><b><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1980/01/an-act-in-backwater.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Act in a Backwater, An</span></a></b></i><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/03/adjustments.html" target="_blank">Adjustments</a> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1994/12/the-adventure-of-hegel-junior.html" target="_blank">Adventure of Hegel Junior, The </a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1980/01/aegosthena.html" target="_blank">Aegosthena</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Afrit of the Sea, An </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1980/01/the-age-of-walnut.html" target="_blank">Age of Walnut, The</a> </span><br />
<i><b><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/03/alan.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Alan</span></a></b></i><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/07/the-alliance-of-laughter.html" target="_blank">Alliance of Laughter, The</a> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/09/and-no-bird-sings.html" target="_blank">'And No Bird Sings ...'</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/03/and-dead-spake.html" target="_blank">'And the Dead Spake ...'</a></span><br />
<i><b><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1980/01/the-angel-of-pain.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Angel of Pain, The</span></a></b></i><br />
<a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/04/the-ape.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Ape, The</span></a><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1889, aged 22</td></tr>
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<a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1980/01/archaeology-in-literature.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Archaeology in Literature</span></a><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1980/01/arturos-boat.html" target="_blank">Arturo's Boat</a> </span><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2013/06/arundel.html" target="_blank"><b>Arundel</b> </a></span></i><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1980/01/assuntas-sacrifice.html" target="_blank">Assunta's Sacrifice</a> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2007/02/as-we-are.html" target="_blank">As We Are </a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1980/01/as-we-have-become.html" target="_blank">As We Have Become</a> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/05/as-we-were-victorian-peepshow.html" target="_blank">As We Were </a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/06/at-abdul-alis-grave.html" target="_blank">At Abdul-Ali's Grave</a> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/07/at-kings-cross-station.html" target="_blank">At King's Cross Station</a> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1994/12/atmospherics.html" target="_blank">Atmospherics</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/07/at-farmhouse.html" target="_blank">At the Farmhouse </a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Aunt Jeannie<i> [unpublished play]</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1992/05/aunts-and-pianos.html" target="_blank">Aunts and Pianos </a></span><br />
<a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/06/autumn-and-love.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Autumn and Love</span></a><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Autumn and the Spring, The </span><br />
<i><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/11/an-autumn-sowing.html" target="_blank">Autumn Sowing, An</a></span></b></i><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i><b><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1980/01/the-babe-ba.html" target="_blank">Babe, B.A., The</a></b></i> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/06/bagnell-terrace.html" target="_blank">Bagnell Terrace </a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/05/the-baron.html" target="_blank">Baron, The</a> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/12/the-bath-chair.html" target="_blank">Bath-chair, The </a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/11/the-bed-by-window.html" target="_blank">Bed by the Window, The</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Bensoniana </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/03/between-lights.html" target="_blank">Between the Lights</a> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/05/birds.html" target="_blank">Birds</a> <i><b>NEW!</b></i></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1893, aged 26</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/07/the-blackmailer-of-park-lane.html" target="_blank">Blackmailer of Park Lane, The</a> </span><br />
<i><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2006/08/the-blotting-book.html" target="_blank">Blotting-book, The</a></span></b></i><br />
<a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/07/blue-stripe.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Blue Stripe</span></a><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1980/01/a-book-of-golf.html" target="_blank">Book of Golf, A</a> </span><br />
<i><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2013/12/the-book-of-months.html" target="_blank">Book of Months, The</a></span></b></i><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1994/12/bootles.html" target="_blank">Bootles </a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.com/1980/01/the-box-at-bank.html" target="_blank">Box at the Bank, The</a> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1994/12/boxing-night.html" target="_blank">Boxing Night</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Bread of Deceit, The </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1992/05/a-breath-of-scandal.html" target="_blank">Breath of Scandal, A</a> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Brick, The >>> <a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/02/dodo-and-brick.html" target="_blank">Dodo and the Brick</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1992/05/the-bridge-fiend.html" target="_blank">Bridge Fiend, The</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Bridgwater Club, The</span><br />
<a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/06/bronte.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Brontë</span></a><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/07/the-brontes.html" target="_blank">Brontës, The</a> </span> <br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1994/12/buntingford-jugs.html" target="_blank">Buntingford Jugs</a></span> <br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/06/the-bus-conductor.html" target="_blank">Bus-conductor, The </a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1994/12/by-sluice.html" target="_blank">By the Sluice</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">By the Waters of Sparta </span><br />
<a href="https://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.com/1980/01/the-call.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Call, The</span></a><br />
<a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1980/01/the-capsina.html" target="_blank"><i><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Capsina, The</span></b></i></a><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Card of Casuistry, A</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/06/carrington.html" target="_blank">Carrington</a> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1992/05/the-case-of-bertram-porter.html" target="_blank">Case of Bertram Porter, The </a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Case of Frank Hampden, The >>> <a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1992/06/the-return-of-frank-hampden.html" target="_blank">Return of Frank Hampden, The </a></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pS8u9ZG3TRE/VG4n2UUs2lI/AAAAAAAABgg/IRcYmYvqe7Q/s1600/EFB%2B1898.png" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-pS8u9ZG3TRE/VG4n2UUs2lI/AAAAAAAABgg/IRcYmYvqe7Q/s1600/EFB%2B1898.png" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1898, aged 31</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/06/the-cat.html" target="_blank">Cat, The </a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2011/12/caterpillars.html" target="_blank">Caterpillars</a></span><br />
<a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1980/01/the-challoners.html" target="_blank"><i><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Challoners, The</span></b></i></a><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Charlotte, Anne and Emily Brontë </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2013/06/charlotte-bronte.html" target="_blank">Charlotte Brontë</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Cherry Blossom </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1992/06/the-china-bowl.html" target="_blank">China Bowl, The </a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1992/05/the-chippendale-mirror.html" target="_blank">Chippendale Mirror, The</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Christmas with the Old Masters </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/06/christopher-comes-back.html" target="_blank">Christopher Comes Back</a></span><br />
<a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/12/the-clandon-crystal.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Clandon Crystal, The</span></a><br />
<a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/06/classical-education.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Classical Education</span></a><br />
<a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1980/01/the-climber.html" target="_blank"><i><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Climber, The</span></b></i></a><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Climbers and Godmothers </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Clonmel Witch Burning, The >>> <a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/06/the-recent-witch-burning-at-clonmel.html" target="_blank">Recent 'Witch Burning' at Clonmel, The</a> </span><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: small;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1995/01/colin.html" target="_blank"><b>Colin</b> </a></span></i> <br />
<i><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2002/07/colin-ii.html" target="_blank">Colin II</a></span></b></i><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1994/12/a-comedy-of-styles.html" target="_blank">Comedy of Styles, A</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1994/12/complementary-souls.html" target="_blank">Complementary Souls</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1994/12/complete-rest.html" target="_blank">'Complete Rest' </a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1974/09/the-confession-of-charles-linkworth.html" target="_blank">Confession of Charles Linkworth, The</a></span> <br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/06/the-corner-house.html" target="_blank">Corner House, The </a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/10/corstophine.html" target="_blank">Corstophine </a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Countess Hatso, The </span><br />
<a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2013/05/the-countess-of-lowndes-square.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Countess of Lowndes Square, The</span></a><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Country House Parties</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Courtship of Lord Arthur Armstrong, The </span><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CxmPsBNY6pM/VG4oD7YO9sI/AAAAAAAABgo/-cmNO08L9OA/s1600/EFB%2B1904.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-CxmPsBNY6pM/VG4oD7YO9sI/AAAAAAAABgo/-cmNO08L9OA/s1600/EFB%2B1904.jpg" width="193" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1904, aged 37</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/11/a-creed-of-manners.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Creed of Manners, A</span></a><br />
<a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1980/01/crescent-and-iron-cross.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Crescent and Iron Cross</span></a><br />
<a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1980/01/the-cricket-of-abel-hirst-and-shrewsbury.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Cricket of Abel, Hirst and Shrewsbury, The</span></a><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Crotalus, The </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Curious Coincidence, A >>> <a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/06/at-abdul-alis-grave.html" target="_blank">At Abdul-Ali's Grave</a> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1980/01/daily-training.html" target="_blank">Daily Training</a> </span><br />
<i><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/02/daisys-aunt.html" target="_blank">Daisy's Aunt</a></span></b></i><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/11/the-dance.html" target="_blank">Dance, The</a></span> <br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2013/05/the-dance-on-beefsteak.html" target="_blank">Dance on the Beefsteak, The </a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Dark and Nameless</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Daughters of Queen Victoria >>> Queen Victoria's Daughters </span><br />
<i><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2011/11/david-blaize.html" target="_blank">David Blaize</a></span></b></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2013/12/david-blaize-and-blue-door.html" target="_blank"><b>David Blaize and the Blue Door</b> </a></span></i><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">David Blaize of King's >>> David of King's </span><br />
<i><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/06/david-of-kings.html" target="_blank">David of King's </a></span></b></i><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1980/01/day-in-day-out.html" target="_blank">Day In, Day Out </a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Death Warrant, The</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Defeat of Lady Grantham, The </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1994/12/the-defeat-of-lady-hartridge.html" target="_blank">Defeat of Lady Hartridge, The </a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Demoniacal Possession </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1992/05/desirable-residences.html" target="_blank">Desirable Residences</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Deutschland über Allah >>> <a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1980/01/crescent-and-iron-cross.html" target="_blank">Crescent and Iron Cross</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Dewan-i-Khas </span> <br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-k-H6BVTqwuA/VG4oK7srZuI/AAAAAAAABgw/Z8U7CjTfp7g/s1600/EFB%2B1909ish.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-k-H6BVTqwuA/VG4oK7srZuI/AAAAAAAABgw/Z8U7CjTfp7g/s1600/EFB%2B1909ish.jpg" width="243" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1909ish, aged 42ish</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1992/05/dickys-pain.html" target="_blank">Dicky's Pain</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Dinner for Eight </span> <br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1992/05/the-disappearance-of-jacob-conifer.html" target="_blank">Disappearance of Jacob Conifer, The</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Diversions Day by Day</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/12/dives-and-lazarus.html" target="_blank">Dives and Lazarus</a> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Dodo <i>[play]</i> </span><br />
<i><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2011/03/dodo-detail-of-day.html" target="_blank">Dodo: A Detail of the Day </a></span></b></i><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/02/dodo-and-brick.html" target="_blank">Dodo and the Brick</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2011/04/dodo-second.html" target="_blank">Dodo's Daughter</a> [i.e. Dodo the Second]</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1992/05/dodos-progress.html" target="_blank">Dodo's Progress </a></span><br />
<i><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2011/04/dodo-second.html" target="_blank">Dodo the Second </a></span></b></i><br />
<i><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2011/05/dodo-wonders.html" target="_blank">Dodo Wonders</a></span></b></i><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1992/05/doggies.html" target="_blank">Doggies </a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/11/the-dorothy-crystal-syndicate.html" target="_blank">Dorothy Crystal Syndicate, The</a> <i><b>NEW!</b></i> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/03/a-double-misfit.html" target="_blank">Double Misfit, A </a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1992/05/the-drawing-room-bureau.html" target="_blank">Drawing-room Bureau, The </a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Dummy on a Dahabeah </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/06/the-dust-cloud.html" target="_blank">Dust-cloud, The </a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/04/early-bronte.html" target="_blank">Early Brontë</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Earthquakes at Atlanta </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1994/12/the-eavesdropper.html" target="_blank">Eavesdropper, The </a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/05/the-economies-of-mrs-hancock.html" target="_blank">Economies of Mrs Hancock, The </a></span><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i><b>NEW!</b></i></span><br />
<a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/07/the-education-of-king.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Education of a King, The</span></a><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">English Figure Skating </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">English Skating </span><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CVNbtZECfKA/VG4oTmVeaOI/AAAAAAAABg4/6axLkS8EqiI/s1600/EFB%2B1914ish.gif" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CVNbtZECfKA/VG4oTmVeaOI/AAAAAAAABg4/6axLkS8EqiI/s1600/EFB%2B1914ish.gif" width="218" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1914ish, aged 47ish</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1994/12/an-entire-mistake.html" target="_blank">Entire Mistake, An</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1992/05/entomology.html" target="_blank">Entomology </a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2015/02/the-everlasting-silence.html" target="_blank">Everlasting Silence, The</a> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/09/expiation.html" target="_blank">Expiation </a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1994/12/the-exposure-of-pamela.html" target="_blank">Exposure of Pamela, The</a></span> <br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/08/the-face.html" target="_blank">Face, The</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Fallacy at the Heart of <i>Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde</i>, The </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1994/12/the-fall-of-augusta.html" target="_blank">Fall of Augusta, The</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2013/06/the-false-step.html" target="_blank">False Step, The </a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Fascinating Mrs Halton, The >>> <a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/02/daisys-aunt.html" target="_blank"><b><i>Daisy's Aunt</i></b></a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Femme Dispose </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Ferdinand Magellan </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/07/final-edition.html" target="_blank">Final Edition </a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1994/12/fine-feathers.html" target="_blank">Fine Feathers </a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1994/12/the-five-foolish-virgins.html" target="_blank">Five Foolish Virgins, The</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Flint Knife, The</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">For His Friends </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2011/06/the-freaks-of-mayfair.html" target="_blank">Freaks of Mayfair, The</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1992/05/the-friend-in-garden.html" target="_blank">Friend in the Garden, The </a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Friend in the Garden, The <i>[play]</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/08/friendly-russia.html" target="_blank">Friendly Russia</a><i> <b>NEW!</b></i> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2013/10/friend-of-rich.html" target="_blank">Friend of the Rich</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">From Abraham to Christ </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Future of the Novel, The </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2011/11/the-gardener.html" target="_blank">Gardener, The</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Garden Gate, The </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Gare du Nord </span> <br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/01/gavons-eve.html" target="_blank">Gavon's Eve </a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/05/george-moore.html" target="_blank">George Moore</a> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1994/12/georges-secret.html" target="_blank">George's Secret</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Ghost in the Secret Garden, The </span><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DmVap1rG74o/VG4ocuwMRTI/AAAAAAAABhA/hzoCBfPfkI0/s1600/EFB%2B1925ish.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-DmVap1rG74o/VG4ocuwMRTI/AAAAAAAABhA/hzoCBfPfkI0/s1600/EFB%2B1925ish.jpg" width="250" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1925ish?, aged 58ish?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Givers and Takers </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1992/05/the-godmother.html" target="_blank">Godmother, The </a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/11/the-golden-temple-of-amritsar.html" target="_blank">Golden Temple of Amritsar, The</a> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Gospel of the Gourmet, The </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/09/governments-who-dig-their-own-graves.html" target="_blank">Governments Who Dig Their Own Graves</a> <i><b>NEW!</b></i> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1992/05/the-guardian-angel.html" target="_blank">Guardian Angel, The</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Guy's Candidate </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/06/the-hanging-of-alfred-wadham.html" target="_blank">Hanging of Alfred Wadham, The </a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1992/05/the-hapless-bachelors.html" target="_blank">Hapless Bachelors, The</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Harmonious Blacksmith, The</span><br />
<a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/11/the-heart-of-india.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Heart of India, The</span></a><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Henry James: Letters to A. C. Benson and Auguste Monod</span><br />
<a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/03/a-hidden-power.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Hidden Power, A </span></a> <br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/09/home-sweet-home.html" target="_blank">Home, Sweet Home </a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2011/12/the-horror-horn.html" target="_blank">Horror-horn, The </a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/05/the-house-of-defence.html" target="_blank"><i><b>House of Defence, The</b></i></a> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/09/house-of-help.html" target="_blank">House of Help</a> <i><b>NEW!</b></i> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/04/the-house-with-brick-kiln.html" target="_blank">House with the Brick-kiln, The</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/01/how-fear-departed-from-long-gallery.html" target="_blank">How Fear Departed from the Long Gallery</a></span><br />
<i><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2013/03/the-image-in-sand.html" target="_blank">Image in the Sand, The</a></span></b></i><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Imaginary Interviews 1: Chamberlain and Kruger</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Imaginary Interviews 2: The Marquis of Salisbury and Lord Rosebery</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Imaginary Interviews 3: The German Emperor and Dr Leyds </span><i><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span></b></i> <br />
<b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2013/08/the-inheritor.html" target="_blank"><i>Inheritor, The</i> </a></span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/06/inscrutable-decrees.html" target="_blank">Inscrutable Decrees </a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2013/05/in-dark.html" target="_blank">In the Dark</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/08/in-tube.html" target="_blank">In the Tube</a></span><br />
<a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/06/jack-and-poll.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Jack and Poll </span></a><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1994/12/the-jamboree_23.html" target="_blank">Jamboree, The </a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/06/james-lamp.html" target="_blank">James Lamp</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1994/12/james-sutherland-ltd.html" target="_blank">James Sutherland, Ltd.</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2013/10/janet.html" target="_blank">Janet</a></span><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NRb1spOlk58/VG4omp10N1I/AAAAAAAABhI/t70inVeqeGI/s1600/EFB%2B1927ish.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-NRb1spOlk58/VG4omp10N1I/AAAAAAAABhI/t70inVeqeGI/s1600/EFB%2B1927ish.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1927ish, aged 60ish</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2013/06/jills-cat.html" target="_blank">Jill's Cat </a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Jill's Golf </span><br />
<a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/03/the-joy-of-chase.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Joy of the Chase, The</span></a><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.com/2019/07/the-judgment-books.html" target="_blank">Judgment Books, The</a> </span><br />
<i><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2013/09/juggernaut.html" target="_blank">Juggernaut</a></span></b></i><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1994/12/julians-cottage.html" target="_blank">Julian's Cottage </a></span><br />
<a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1980/01/the-kaiser-and-english-relations.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Kaiser and English Relations, The</span></a><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">King and His Reign, The (<a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/12/the-king-and-his-reign-i-prince-georges.html" target="_blank">I</a>, <a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/12/the-king-and-his-reign-ii-inheritance.html" target="_blank">II</a>, <a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1980/01/the-king-and-his-reign-iii-ireland.html" target="_blank">III</a>, <a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/12/the-king-and-his-reign-iv-womens-rights.html" target="_blank">IV</a>, <a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2015/01/the-king-and-his-reign-v-1914.html" target="_blank">V</a>, <a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2015/02/the-king-and-his-reign-vi-war.html" target="_blank">VI</a>, <a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2015/02/the-king-and-his-reign-vii-aftermath.html" target="_blank">VII</a>, VIII, <a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2015/01/the-king-and-his-reign-ix-king-and.html" target="_blank">IX</a>, X, XI, XII)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1980/01/king-edward-vii.html" target="_blank">King Edward VII</a> </span><br />
<a href="https://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.com/1980/02/lady-massingtons-resurrection.html"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Lady Massington's Resurrection</span></a><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Lambeth Palace</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/09/liberty-of-law.html" target="_blank">Liberty of Law</a> <i><b>NEW!</b></i> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1980/01/the-life-of-alcibiades.html" target="_blank">Life of Alcibiades, The</a> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1992/05/the-light-in-garden.html" target="_blank">Light in the Garden, The</a></span><br />
<a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/09/like-grammarian.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Like a Grammarian</span></a><br />
<a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1980/01/limitations.html" target="_blank"><i><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Limitations</span></b></i></a><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Limoges Manuscript, The</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Little Headache, A </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1994/12/the-lovers.html" target="_blank">Lovers, The</a></span><br />
<i><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1980/01/lovers-and-friends.html" target="_blank">Lovers and Friends</a></span></b></i><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Love's Apostate</span><i><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span></b></i><br />
<i><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1992/06/lucia-in-london.html" target="_blank">Lucia in London </a></span></b></i><br />
<i><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1989/08/lucias-progress.html" target="_blank">Lucia's Progress</a></span></b></i><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2013/01/the-luck-of-vails.html" target="_blank"><i><b>Luck of the Vails, The</b></i></a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Luck of the Vails, The <i>[play]<b> </b></i> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/06/machaon.html" target="_blank">Machaon</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Mad Annual, The </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/03/magic-white-and-black.html" target="_blank">Magic White and Black</a> </span><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bjAwKWbiYKA/VG4o3A6z2XI/AAAAAAAABhQ/V03oFJaUgb4/s1600/EFB%2B1930ish.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-bjAwKWbiYKA/VG4o3A6z2XI/AAAAAAAABhQ/V03oFJaUgb4/s1600/EFB%2B1930ish.jpg" width="222" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1930ish, aged 63ish</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1992/07/the-male-impersonator.html" target="_blank">Male Impersonator, The </a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2013/09/mammon-co.html" target="_blank"><i><b>Mammon & Co.</b></i> </a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/02/the-man-who-went-too-far.html" target="_blank">Man Who Went Too Far, The</a></span><br />
<i><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1992/07/mapp-and-lucia.html" target="_blank">Mapp and Lucia </a></span></b></i><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Margery >>> <a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2013/09/juggernaut.html" target="_blank"><i><b>Juggernaut</b></i></a></span><br />
<a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/06/max.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Max</span></a><br />
<a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/04/may-29th-1928.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">May 29th, 1928</span></a><br />
<i><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Mezzanine</span></b></i><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Michael >>> <b><i>Mike</i></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Middleman, The </span><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2015/05/mike-michael.html" target="_blank"><b>Mike</b></a> </span></i><br />
<i><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1992/07/miss-mapp.html" target="_blank">Miss Mapp </a></span></b></i><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/02/miss-marias-romance.html" target="_blank">Miss Maria's Romance </a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1994/12/mom.html" target="_blank">M.O.M. </a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/11/the-money-market.html" target="_blank"><i><b>Money Market, The</b></i></a> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/12/monkeys.html" target="_blank">Monkeys</a></span><br />
<a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/03/mother.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Mother</span></a><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Mother of Men, A </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1994/12/mr-carews-game-of-croquet.html" target="_blank">Mr Carew's Game of Croquet </a></span><br />
<b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1992/10/mrs-ames.html" target="_blank"><i>Mrs Ames</i> </a></span></b><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/01/mrs-amworth.html" target="_blank">Mrs Amworth </a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1994/12/mrs-andrewss-control.html" target="_blank">Mrs Andrews's Control</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Mrs Lauderdale's Office</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Mrs Naseby's Denial</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Mrs Ross Puts Her Foot Down </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/08/mr-teddy.html" target="_blank"><i><b>Mr Teddy</b></i></a> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/07/mr-tillys-seance.html" target="_blank">Mr Tilly's Seance </a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/06/the-murder-of-alan-grebell.html" target="_blank">Murder of Alan Grebell, The</a> </span><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Y1WCos4u3zE/VG4o9v9CLyI/AAAAAAAABhY/Vdl9aY_s1To/s1600/EFB%2B1935ish.png" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Y1WCos4u3zE/VG4o9v9CLyI/AAAAAAAABhY/Vdl9aY_s1To/s1600/EFB%2B1935ish.png" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1935ish?, aged 68ish</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1992/05/music.html" target="_blank">Music </a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1994/12/my-friend-murderer.html" target="_blank">My Friend the Murderer</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1980/01/the-mystery-of-black-rock-creek.html" target="_blank">Mystery of Black Rock Creek, The</a> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/09/naboths-vineyard.html" target="_blank">Naboth's Vineyard</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/07/national-service-or-national-disgrace.html" target="_blank">National Service or National Disgrace?</a><i><b> NEW!</b></i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/01/negotium-perambulans.html" target="_blank">Negotium Perambulan</a>s</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/03/noblesse-oblige.html" target="_blank">Noblesse Oblige </a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Notes on Excavations in Alexandrian Cemeteries </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1992/05/number-12.html" target="_blank">Number 12 </a></span><br />
<a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1980/01/the-oakleyites.html" target="_blank"><i><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Oakleyites, The</span></b></i></a><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/04/oh-to-be-in-england.html" target="_blank">'Oh, to be in England ...'</a> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Old Bligh, The</span><br />
<a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/04/o-lyric-love-half-angel-and-half-bird.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">'O lyric love half-angel and half-bird' </span></a><br />
<a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/06/once.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Once</span></a><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Once a Year</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">On the Decadence of Manners</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">On Undesirable Information</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2013/05/the-oriolists.html" target="_blank">Oriolists, The </a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Orozco at Dartmouth College</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1980/01/the-osbornes.html" target="_blank"><i><b>Osbornes, The</b></i></a> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/04/the-other-bed.html" target="_blank">Other Bed, The</a></span><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WXIT7QZ60w0/VG4pHWFVtuI/AAAAAAAABhg/4YfR0yn1qoQ/s1600/EFB%2B1938ish.gif" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WXIT7QZ60w0/VG4pHWFVtuI/AAAAAAAABhg/4YfR0yn1qoQ/s1600/EFB%2B1938ish.gif" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1938ish, aged 71ish</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/06/our-family-affairs-1867-1896.html" target="_blank">Our Family Affairs 1867-1896</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/09/our-hard-working-royal-family.html" target="_blank">Our Hard-working Royal Family</a> <i><b>NEW!</b></i> </span><br />
<a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2015/01/our-sister-death-of-body.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">'Our Sister, the Death of the Body'</span></a><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1980/01/the-outbreak-of-war-1914.html" target="_blank">Outbreak of War 1914, The</a> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/07/the-outcast.html" target="_blank">Outcast, The</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/07/outside-door.html" target="_blank">Outside the Door</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1992/05/the-passenger.html" target="_blank">The Passenger</a></span><br />
<i><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1980/01/paul.html" target="_blank">Paul</a> </span></b></i><br />
<i><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1995/10/paying-guests.html" target="_blank">Paying Guests</a></span></b></i><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Peacock Enamels, The </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1992/05/the-peerage-cure.html" target="_blank">The Peerage Cure </a></span><br />
<a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2015/01/peter.html" target="_blank"><i><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Peter</span></b></i></a><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i><b>Pharisees and Publicans</b></i> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1992/05/philips-safety-razor.html" target="_blank">Philip's Safety Razor</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/12/pirates.html" target="_blank">Pirates</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Poland and Mittel-Europa >>> White Eagle of Poland, The</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/10/poor-miss-huntingford.html" target="_blank">Poor Miss Huntingford</a> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2013/09/portrait-of-english-nobleman.html" target="_blank">Portrait of an English Nobleman</a></span><br />
<i><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2013/11/the-princess-sophia.html" target="_blank">Princess Sophia, The</a></span></b></i><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1994/12/professor-burnabys-discovery.html" target="_blank">Professor Burnaby's Discovery </a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Progress of Princess Waldeneck, The >>> <a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1992/05/dodos-progress.html" target="_blank">Dodo's Progress</a> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2013/01/the-psychical-mallards.html" target="_blank">Psychical Mallards, The </a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Public Schools Alpine </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1992/05/the-puce-silk.html" target="_blank">Puce Silk, The</a></span><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wT99-WfJsyg/VG4pOYEnrFI/AAAAAAAABho/I6mIvp-sZBs/s1600/EFB%2B1939ish.gif" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wT99-WfJsyg/VG4pOYEnrFI/AAAAAAAABho/I6mIvp-sZBs/s1600/EFB%2B1939ish.gif" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1939ish, aged 72ish</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2013/08/puss-cat.html" target="_blank">'Puss-cat'</a></span><br />
<i><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1990/01/queen-lucia.html" target="_blank">Queen Lucia</a></span></b></i> <br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1992/05/the-queen-of-spa.html" target="_blank">Queen of the Spa, The</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/02/queen-victoria.html" target="_blank">Queen Victoria</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Queen Victoria's Daughters</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Question of Taste, A </span><br />
<i><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2013/11/ravens-brood.html" target="_blank">Ravens' Brood</a></span></b></i><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/04/reading-in-bed.html" target="_blank">Reading in Bed</a> </span> <br />
<i><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/01/a-reaping.html" target="_blank">Reaping, A</a></span></b></i><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/06/the-recent-witch-burning-at-clonmel.html" target="_blank">Recent 'Witch Burning' at Clonmel, The </a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/08/reconciliation.html" target="_blank">Reconciliation</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Red House, The </span><br />
<i><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2013/06/the-relentless-city.html" target="_blank">Relentless City, The </a></span></b></i><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2011/02/the-renewal.html" target="_blank">Renewal, The </a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1992/05/the-return-of-dodo.html" target="_blank">Return of Dodo, The</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1992/06/the-return-of-frank-hampden.html" target="_blank">Return of Frank Hampden, The</a></span><br />
<a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/04/rex.html" target="_blank"><i><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Rex</span></b></i></a><br />
<i><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1980/01/robin-linnet.html" target="_blank">Robin Linnet</a> </span></b></i><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/08/rodericks-story.html" target="_blank">Roderick's Story</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/04/the-room-in-tower.html" target="_blank">Room in the Tower, The</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1980/01/the-rubicon.html" target="_blank"><i><b>Rubicon, The</b></i></a> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2013/01/the-sanctuary.html" target="_blank">Sanctuary, The</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1992/05/the-satyrs-sandals.html" target="_blank">Satyr's Sandals, The</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/06/scarlet-and-hyssop.html" target="_blank"><i><b>Scarlet and Hyssop</b></i></a> </span><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tRL1vs3tI3k/VG4pYRu-w4I/AAAAAAAABhw/P6Du5ob0djE/s1600/EFB%2B1940ish%2B2.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tRL1vs3tI3k/VG4pYRu-w4I/AAAAAAAABhw/P6Du5ob0djE/s1600/EFB%2B1940ish%2B2.jpg" width="256" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1940ish, aged 72ish</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1992/05/sea-mist.html" target="_blank">Sea Mist</a></span><br />
<i><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1998/07/secret-lives.html" target="_blank">Secret Lives</a></span></b></i><br />
<i><b><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/03/sheaves.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Sheaves</span></a></b></i><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/03/sheridan-le-fanu.html" target="_blank">Sheridan Le Fanu</a> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/06/the-shootings-at-achnaleish.html" target="_blank">Shootings at Achnaleish, The </a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Shuttered Room, The </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1994/12/the-simple-life.html" target="_blank">Simple Life, The</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1980/01/sir-francis-drake.html" target="_blank">Sir Francis Drake</a> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1992/05/sir-roger-de-coverley.html" target="_blank">Sir Roger de Coverley </a></span><br />
<a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1980/01/sketches-from-marlborough.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Sketches from Marlborough</span></a><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Smorfia</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Snow Stone, The</span><br />
<a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/06/social-customs.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Social Customs</span></a><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Social Sickness</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Social Value of Temperance, The</span><br />
<a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/07/the-sound-of-grinding.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Sound of the Grinding, The</span></a><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Souvenir of the Air Raids, A </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/08/spinach.html" target="_blank">Spinach</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/11/the-step.html" target="_blank">Step, The</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Story of a Mazurka, The </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1992/05/the-superannuation-department-ad-1945.html" target="_blank">Superannuation Department, AD 1945, The</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/08/the-tale-of-empty-house.html" target="_blank">Tale of an Empty House, The</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Technique of the Ghost Story, The </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/10/the-temple.html" target="_blank">Temple, The</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1980/01/ten-days-in-peloponnese.html" target="_blank">Ten Days in the Peloponnese</a> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/04/the-terror-by-night.html" target="_blank">Terror by Night, The</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/04/there-arose-king.html" target="_blank">There Arose a King</a> </span><br />
<a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1980/01/the-thersilion-at-megalopolis.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Thersilion at Megalopolis, The </span></a><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/07/the-thing-in-hall.html" target="_blank">Thing in the Hall, The</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1980/01/thorley-weir.html" target="_blank"><i><b>Thorley Weir</b></i></a> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Thoughts from E. F. Benson (1913)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Thoughts from E. F. Benson (1917) </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/08/the-three-old-ladies.html" target="_blank">Three Old Ladies, The</a> </span><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-v2rLUMOZ6dQ/VG4pgUXj7FI/AAAAAAAABh4/-lTk_AEZmu4/s1600/EFB%2B1940ish.jpg" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-v2rLUMOZ6dQ/VG4pgUXj7FI/AAAAAAAABh4/-lTk_AEZmu4/s1600/EFB%2B1940ish.jpg" width="243" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">1940ish, aged 72ish</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1992/06/through.html" target="_blank">'Through'</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2013/01/thursday-evenings.html" target="_blank">Thursday Evenings</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1992/05/to-account-rendered.html" target="_blank">To Account Rendered</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1992/05/the-top-landing.html" target="_blank">Top Landing, The</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Tortoise, The >>> <i><b>Mr Teddy</b></i> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Tragedy of a Green Totem, The </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1980/01/the-tragedy-of-oliver-bowman.html" target="_blank">Tragedy of Oliver Bowman, The</a> </span><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1980/01/travail-of-gold.html" target="_blank">Travail of Gold</a> </b></span></i><br />
<i><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1992/07/trouble-for-lucia.html" target="_blank">Trouble for Lucia</a></span></b></i><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/06/two-days-after.html" target="_blank">Two Days After</a> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/03/an-unusual-autobiography.html" target="_blank">Unusual Autobiography, An</a> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2013/11/the-unwanted.html" target="_blank">Unwanted, The </a></span><br />
<a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1980/01/up-and-down.html" target="_blank"><i><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Up and Down</span></b></i></a><br />
<a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1980/01/the-valkyries.html" target="_blank"><i><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Valkyries, The</span></b></i></a><br />
<a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1980/01/victorian-biography-and-afterwards.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Victorian Biography - and Afterwards</span></a><i><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"> </span></b></i><br />
<a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1980/01/the-vintage.html" target="_blank"><i><b><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Vintage, The</span></b></i></a><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1980/01/the-weaker-vessel.html" target="_blank"><i><b>Weaker Vessel, The</b></i></a> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1992/05/when-greek-meets-greek.html" target="_blank">When Greek Meets Greek</a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1980/01/the-white-eagle-of-poland.html" target="_blank">White Eagle of Poland, The</a> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/07/a-winter-morning.html" target="_blank">Winter Morning, A</a> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1980/01/winter-pastimes.html" target="_blank">Winter Pastimes</a> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1980/01/winter-sports-in-switzerland.html" target="_blank">Winter Sports in Switzerland</a> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2012/12/the-wishing-well.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: small;">Wishing-Well, The </span></a></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KdlSmlULCOM/VG4pnwaNYXI/AAAAAAAABiA/xVzzi9CRX5k/s1600/44924.jpg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="290" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KdlSmlULCOM/VG4pnwaNYXI/AAAAAAAABiA/xVzzi9CRX5k/s1600/44924.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1992/05/the-witch-ball.html" target="_blank">Witch-ball, The </a></span></span></span><br />
<a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/04/a-womans-ambition.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Woman's Ambition, A</span></span></span></a><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Worshipful Lucia, The >>> <i><b>Lucia's Progress</b></i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/2014/08/the-zoo.html" target="_blank">Zoo, The</a><i><b> </b></i> </span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u><b>SHORT STORY COLLECTIONS</b></u></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Countess of Lowndes Square and Other Stories, The </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Desirable Residences and Other Stories</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Fine Feathers and Other Stories</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Flint Knife, The </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">More Spook Stories </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Sea Mist</span><br />
<a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1980/01/six-common-things.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Six Common Things</span></a><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Spook Stories</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Visible and Invisible</span><br />
<br />
<a href="http://efbensontheothernovels.blogspot.co.uk/1980/01/the-mapp-and-lucia-series.html" target="_blank"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Mapp and Lucia</span></a><br />
<i> </i><br />
<br />
<br />Ewiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01925901182655242694noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-845353778010200403.post-23653319308461930252019-09-14T17:27:00.000+01:002019-09-18T17:57:38.069+01:00The Oakleyites<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-X1B6M2r0XeI/VG4koQQR2yI/AAAAAAAABfY/FD2MUFUD-R8/s1600/The%2BOakleyites.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-X1B6M2r0XeI/VG4koQQR2yI/AAAAAAAABfY/FD2MUFUD-R8/s1600/The%2BOakleyites.jpg" width="206" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>Fiction ~ novel</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>Published September 1915</b></span><br />
Ewiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01925901182655242694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-845353778010200403.post-83047959179390383162019-07-26T11:29:00.000+01:002019-07-30T11:52:19.883+01:00The Judgment Books<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Cw5g7UlgkwY/XUAYiSl5SQI/AAAAAAAAEQQ/ORM8lDMuf_IvVup5Efyae-Yt3usv_skXgCLcBGAs/s1600/The%2BJudgment%2BBooks.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="467" data-original-width="318" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Cw5g7UlgkwY/XUAYiSl5SQI/AAAAAAAAEQQ/ORM8lDMuf_IvVup5Efyae-Yt3usv_skXgCLcBGAs/s320/The%2BJudgment%2BBooks.jpg" width="217" /></a></div>
<b>Fiction ~ novella</b><br />
<b>First serialized in <i>The Graphic</i> November 1894</b><br />
<b>Published in full 1895</b><br />
<b>24,405 words</b><br />
<br />
A very posh portrait-painter paints a self-portrait, neurotically.<br />
When you boil all the rotting flesh off this bloated carcass of a story, that's all you're left with.<br />
Even if Benson had told it at his customary short-story length (5-6,000 words), it would still have been vastly overlong.<br />
The author doesn't blush to mention that he's been inspired by (<i>voir</i> plagiarized) Stevenson's <i>Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde </i>(1886); what he singularly does fail to mention is that the yarn owes as much to Wilde's <i>Dorian Gray</i> (1890/91). <b>At the exact time</b> <i>The Judgment Books</i> was being published in full, Wilde was engaged in his idiotic trials. So that might have had something to do with the omission.<br />
<br />
<br />
A truly mind-blowingly atrocious piece of writing.<br />
<br />
<u><b>QUOTABLES</b></u><br />
There's one very brief interlude in all the tedium. Our toff hero and his toff wife have invited the vicar and his wife to dinner ~ for no reason other than to have a break in the tedium, it seems. The vicar's wife, Mrs Greenock, is ceaselessly inquisitive:<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
[Asking questions of everyone]<i>, she was persuaded, was the best way of improving an</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i> already superior intellect, as hers admittedly was. There is a great deal to be said for</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i> her view—there always was a great deal to be said for her views, and she usually said</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i> most of it herself.</i></div>
<br />
Now that you've read the one good line in this yarn, please forget about it. Under no circumstances should you attempt to <b>read</b> it.<br />
<br />
<u><b>THE CRITICS</b></u><br />
<u><b>
</b></u>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">An
odd, suggestive story … The tale is well told, the conceit a
striking one.</span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">~<i>Hartford
Courant</i>, quoted in front endpapers of <i>The Vintage</i></span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Mr.
Benson is at his best thus far, in this new book rather than in <i>Dodo</i>,
and that best is excellent.</span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">~<i>Boston
Advertiser</i>, quoted in front endpapers of <i>The Vintage</i></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The
new work of the author of <i>Dodo</i> is much less ambitious and
somewhat better written than that amusing story. It is hardly long
enough to be called a novel, and treats of a single episode in the
life of a portrait-painter. This gentleman, who is not very strong
in the mind, reads <i>Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde</i> whilst he is casting
about for a new piece of work, and it fires his imagination to “put
his Jekyll and Hyde on the canvas for men to wonder at and be silent
before.” He would paint himself, he decided, “as the husband and
lover of Margery, the Jekyll of himself who had known and knew the
best capabilities for loving in his nature; and he would paint his
Hyde, the man who had lived as other men live in Paris, a Bohemian,
careless, worthless, finding this thing and that honey in the mouth,
but to the soul wormwood and bitterness.” Unfortunately Margery,
who was not only his wife, but his backbone, went away on a visit,
and the consequence was that Hyde got the upper hand on the canvas.
One is then led to expect a sort of <i>Dorian Gray</i>
transformation, but nothing comes of it. The wife returns home, the
picture is destroyed, and everything goes on as before. There is a
good deal of moralising about the immortality of all our deeds, and
how they are inscribed in the 'judgment books', but it is not
particularly new. One is left with a distinct feeling that in this
little work Mr Benson, to use an expressive American phrase, “has
bitten off more than he can chew.”</span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">~<i>The
Glasgow Herald</i>, 18/07/1895</span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>The
Judgment Books</i><span style="font-style: normal;">, by E. F. Benson,
tells the story of an artist who painted himself as he was,
influenced by the story of </span><i>Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde</i><span style="font-style: normal;">.
It is rather horrible, but the conception is well carried out.
Frank Trevor had “lived the life of a man,” in Paris too, and his
wife accepted him, declining to hear his story. She was consistent,
however, and when he had painted a terrible picture of himself as he
was (or, rather, of the 'Mr Hyde' part of him), she saved him by her
love from madness, and accepted him as he was, good and bad. A book
like this cannot be read without one gaining an impression not merely
of its cleverness; the brief, concentrated story is one that haunts
the imagination and awakens thoughts which the best of men would
willingly let die out of his memory.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;">~</span><i>The
Leeds Mercury</i><span style="font-style: normal;">, 31/07/1895</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">A
curious, imaginative, introspective study of character. An artist of
singularly sensitive temperament paints a portrait of himself, and
knowing of certain dark passages in his life is driven to express
them in his picture. The result is a 'horror' that terrifies his
wife and well-nigh deprives him of reason. How he is saved by her
courage and devotion must be learnt from the book itself, which is
well worth reading from more than one point of view.</span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">~<i>The
Liverpool Mercury</i>, 28/08/1895</span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"></span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>The
Judgement Books</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> [sic] is Fred's
attempt to emulate </span><i>Dorian Gray</i><span style="font-style: normal;">,
and was published in the year of Wilde's disgrace (1895 also saw </span><i>The
Importance of Being Earnest</i><span style="font-style: normal;">).
The hero, Frank, is an artist who believes that each time he paints
he loses part of himself which is, as it were, kidnapped and absorbed
by the picture in hand. He is now embarked upon a self-portrait, but
is frightened by the prospect that he may paint himself as he really
is ~ dissolute and depraved ~ and not as the good and decent man his
loving wife Margery sees. For Frank, before he married, had been
rather a cad and risks raising the ghost of that past life. Indeed,
as the picture progresses, it grows more vicious and reveals a
loathsome personality, which Margery flees from in fear. Eventually,
Frank persuades Margery to help him, to rescue him from himself, and
the painting is dramatically ripped to pieces.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Not
only is the theme Wildean, but there is a Wildean principle at stake
which Fred seems to question. The preface to </span><i>The Picture
of Dorian Gray</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> makes the famous
claim, “There is no such thing as a moral or an immoral book.
Books are well written, or badly written.” Benson has Frank make
an analogous point about art:</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: center; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> <i>You
call one thing pretty, another ugly. Believe me, art knows no such
terms. A</i></span></span></div>
<i>
</i><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: center; text-decoration: none;">
<i><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> thing
is true, or it is false; and the cruelty of it is, that if we have as
much as grain</span></span></i></div>
<i>
</i><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: center; text-decoration: none;">
<i><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> of
falsehood in our measure of truth, the thing is worthless.
Therefore, in the </span></span></i>
</div>
<i>
</i><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: center; text-decoration: none;">
<i><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> picture
I am now painting, I have tried to be absolutely truthful; as you
said at</span></span></i></div>
<i>
</i><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: center; text-decoration: none;">
<i><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> dinner,
I have tried to paint what I am, without extenuation or concealment.
Would</span></span></i></div>
<i>
</i><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: center; text-decoration: none;">
<i><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> you
like to see it? You would probably call it a hideous caricature,
because in this</span></span></i></div>
<i>
</i><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: center; text-decoration: none;">
<i><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> terrible,
cruel human life, no man knows what is good in him, but only what is
bad.</span></span></i></div>
<i>
</i><div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: center; text-decoration: none;">
<i><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> It
is those who love us only, who know if there is any good in us.</span></span></i></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;">In
other words, a portrait may be well-painted (honest) or ill-painted
(deceitfully), but it cannot be accused of evil. It can only depict
what is, and not be blamed for failing to depict what ought to be.
With the denouement of the story, however, it is clear that Benson is
challenging this view. He does not believe the artist has a
responsibility towards his audience as well as towards his art, that
there is evil in the world and the artist must neither glamorise nor
excuse it. Fred's moral view is simple, and it occurs again and
again in his work. It is this: evil can be banished by good, and
salvation is always possible, but the struggle, the conflict, are
unceasing. In </span><i>The Judgement Books</i><span style="font-style: normal;">
it is Margery who saves Frank. […] Since many of Fred's books are
made of incidents in his life, stitched together in varying ways, or
reflect moments in his intellectual and moral development, we are
bound to ask, who was it who saved Fred from himself.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>The
Judgement Books</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> was a dismal
flop …</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;">~Brian
Masters in </span><i>The Life of E. F. Benson</i><span style="font-style: normal;">,
1991</span></span></span></div>
Ewiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01925901182655242694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-845353778010200403.post-91710387985998280172018-12-14T16:47:00.000+00:002019-09-18T18:10:55.960+01:00Paul<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zjF7sygixcA/VG4bDHYDUkI/AAAAAAAABd0/pq8WKRxO8EQ/s1600/Paul.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zjF7sygixcA/VG4bDHYDUkI/AAAAAAAABd0/pq8WKRxO8EQ/s1600/Paul.jpg" width="202" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>Fiction ~ novel</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>Published October 1906</b></span><br />
<br />
I haven't read such a poor novel since ... well, since 40 or so of the other E F Benson novels I've read.<br />
The whole of this story could have been told in the space of a novella (20-30,000 words); instead EFB stretches it out to mind-boggling proportions, until you can see right through it to the void beyond.<br />
The only things to recommend it are two rather brief comic interludes which have little to do with the turgid, preposterous, and unbelievably boring 'romantic melodrama' going on in the foreground: these have echoes of the funnier bits of <i>An Act in a Backwater</i> ~ themselves few and far between.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;">Few writers of fiction give so
much hope to its readers as Mr. E. F. Benson. His versatility is
unquestioned, and his style is ever attractive. No other novelist is
quite his equal in word-painting of the rarer phases of Nature, and
the back-grounds of his works are always admirable. In analysis of a
character he is able and convincing, while his men and woman act on
each other in a most logical manner. Nevertheless, Mr. Benson has
not yet found a subject quite worthy of his powers. In the present
case, the mis-mating of a gifted girl with a vampyre-like, loathsome
man of wealth, we have unquestioned power, but despite the clever
development of the plot, we have a suspicion that a better might well
have been found.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><i>[Here I’ve omitted a
fairly detailed description of the plot.]</i><span style="font-style: normal;">
Unquestionably there is power in the story, and some of its passages
are redolent of beauty. The comparison and analysis of character are
excellent, both in Paul, Norah, and Beckwith, while in such minor
skethces as Mrs Mundy, Archdeacon Harold and his wife, and Lady
Anstruther, the humour is unfailing. Paul's temptation suggests that
of Gwendolen in </span><i>Daniel Deronda</i><span style="font-style: normal;">,
but there is no plagiarism.</span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;">~</span><i>The
Manchester Courier</i><span style="font-style: normal;">, 16/10/1906</span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;">The amazing power and subtlety
of Mr E. F. Benson's <i>Paul</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> […]
almost takes one's breath away. It is a novel which the reader can
never forget. Theodore Beckwith is a very wealthy young man, with a
withered and contorted frame, but with a gift of insight and a
strength of personality which are both entirely out of the common.
He marries Norah Ravenscroft, a bright and buoyant girl, who has, in
the spirit of good comradeship, a healthy and sun-browned friend,
Paul Norris. The motives which inspire Norah to accept Beckwith are
difficult to state in brief, but her mother's unfortunate
speculations are no small factor. The motives which inspire Beckwith
are equally compounded of different elements, but among them is the
desire of a morbid soul to have brightness and cheerfulness near to
him. He is delighted when he sees Paul and Norah together; their
natural chaff, the joy of their sunny friendship, their infectious
hilarity, all have their influence upon him. So he invites Paul to
become his secretary, and Paul, at Norah's express wish, accepts the
position. Soon Beckwith discovers that Paul loves Norah, and that
Norah loves Paul; indeed, he is the witness, with his eerie insight,
of their own silent discovery of the fact. Then he begins to play
upon their passions, flinging them together, playing wild music, to
which he bids them dance, acting, in short, a diabolical part with a
friendly face. One time he plays eavesdropper, and hears that spoken
which was inevitable. With the utmost calmness he speaks to Paul.
No, Paul must not go away; he must stay to be forced “to dance on a
hot plate.” It is a terrible situation, and the portrayal of the
three characters is beyond praise. Here, indeed, is fine psychology,
with admirable restraint, relieved by dialogue between the subsidiary
characters which never poses as brilliant, but is joyful and bright
as the sunshine itself. On the day after Norah has communicated the
fact of her impending motherhood to Beckwith he is killed by a
motor-car which Paul, in a frenzy of hatred, is driving at his
master's behest. Once again subtle questions enter. Was it murder?
The line is difficult to draw, and the remorse-stricken Paul spends
agonised months in drawing it, nor does he find peace until one
morning he attends a Communion service at St Paul's, and the
'comfortable words' go home to his heart. Then he goes and confesses
his murderous hatred of Beckwith to Norah, taking his courage in both
hands. In itself this chapter is a triumph of spiritual analysis; it
brings Mr Benson to us on an astonishing plane of achievement. Of
course, afterwards, he wins Norah. We have no compunction in telling
the plot. It is of the smallest consequence. That which matters in
this remarkable novel is the analysis of complex motives, the laying
bare of abortions in psychological structure and of unusual
subtleties in the affections, such as most of us have found in
practical life, the deep and even profound realisation of the meaning
of sin and of its awful Nemesis. In the school of the psychological
novel, which in our days seems to be the conquering form, not even Mr
Henry James, with all his precision of subtle analysis, has carried
the art farther than Mr Benson in this book. It is a novel which
will abide in the hearts of readers with some half-dozen, and no
more, of the hundreds which have appeared in the last few years.</span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;">~</span><i>The
Liverpool Daily Post and Mercury</i><span style="font-style: normal;">,
17/10/1906</span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">The
author of </span><i>Dodo</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> and </span><i>The
Challoners</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> has a talent
curiously feminine, by which we do not mean precisely effeminate. He
does not mince in his gait or speak in falsetto; but his progress is
attended by a kind of emotional frou-frou. His characters are always
in a flutter of spirits, whether high or low; it is hard to take such
volatile persons with becoming seriousness, however grave the
predicament into which the author may for the moment immerse them. </span>
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
There are really
only four persons in this present story: an Englishwoman of pleasant
manners and a ruinous passion for stock-gambling, who is kept pretty
well in the background; her daughter Norah, who loves Paul, but does
not know it; Paul, who loves Norah, but does not know it; Theodore
Beckwith, the villain, a loathsome person who naturally marries the
heroine. Beckwith is a kind of vampire; physically
a weakling, with the monstrous power of feeding his strength by
contact with youth and vigor. His chief pleasure is in the exercise
of a wanton malice. Having married Norah, he induces Paul to
become his secretary, thus securing the companionship of two healthy
young creatures whom he may feed upon and in due time torture. He
sees to it that they remain in no doubt of their feeling for each
other, taking pains to throw them literally into each other's arms.
The<span style="font-style: normal;"> disappointing
thing about the tale is that it is only striking, and not moving at
all. The villain is too villa</span><span style="font-style: normal;">i</span><span style="font-style: normal;">nous
to be true, and the hero too amiable to engage sympathy; the heroine
is simply a nice girl</span> in an awkward
position. Paul respects the rights of the husband. Eventually,
however, he crushes Beckwith under a motor-car, nearly killing
himself in the desperate attempt to save the vampire. But he really
does kill the other man, and he really has had a momentary impulse to
do it deliberately. This fault-preys on his mind for over a hundred
pages, during which he takes to drink, and otherwise enjoys himself
very little. Finally he atones by rescuing Beckwith's child from
being run over by a train. This makes everything as comfortable as
possible.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">~</span></span></span><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">The
Nation</span></span></i><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">,
13/12/1906</span></span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">
</span></span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
There is just a
tinge here of that diabolism toward which Mr. Benson seems to have a
bent. It is seen in the malignant and superhumanly clever creature
who, himself all but a cripple, thrives in a ghoulish sort of way on
the good health and spirits of others. This distressful person
pervades the book. His tragic taking off by an automobile steered by
an enemy, who is never quite sure whether or not the killing was
intentional, gives an opportunity for some dexterous juggling with
questions of conscience, remorse, and love. Mr. Benson always makes
his books readable, and this is no exception.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">~</span></span></span><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">The
Outlook</span></span></i><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">
(US), 15/12/1906</span></span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"></span></span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">
</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">Some
dozen years ago when his </span><i>Dodo</i><span style="font-style: normal;">
appeared it was realized that a writer of more than ordinary ability
had entered the field. In the years that lie between that relatively
crude effort and the work </span>
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
under notice there
is evident an improvement both in literary style and conception of
plot. The individuality and distinction of phrase are maintained, but
the obtrusive 'smartness' which marred the first novel has been
carefully eliminated.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<i>Paul</i><span style="font-style: normal;">
is a modern love-story, the scenes of which are laid in Italy and
England. The principal characters, Paul and Norah, are healthy,
normal, English </span>
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
types, who from the
first are attracted to each other and in the natural course of events
should have married and been happy ever after. A very different
destiny, however, has been ordered for them.
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
Their Eden has an
intruder in the person of Theodore Beckwith, one of the strangest and
most sinister characters that ever issued from the brain of a
novelist. Puny, anemic, irritable, and a victim of insomnia, he
presents a sufficiently striking contrast with the handsome young
athlete who is the hero of the drama. Tho[ugh] the novel ends happily
and the true lovers come by their own the reader can hardly forgive
the author for the untimely death of the best-drawn character in the
book.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">~</span></span></span><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">The
Literary Digest</span></span></i><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">
(US), 19/01/1907</span></span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">Another
novel of the month which has Italy for a setting is </span><i>Paul</i><span style="font-style: normal;">,
by E. F. Benson, best remembered as </span><span style="font-style: normal;">the
author of </span><i>Dodo</i><span style="font-style: normal;">.
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">Frankly, it is a purposeless
book and an unpleasant one. Its interest suddenly drops at the
half-way point, like an underdone loaf of cake, and what is meant to
be its most solemn chapter is more apt to provoke a desire to laugh.
Norah Ravenscroft would have married Paul Norris if her mother had
not gambled away her money. As it was, she married Theodore Beckwith
instead. Mr. Benson expects us to like Norris; he is just a strong,
clean-limbed, clean-</span><span style="font-style: normal;">m</span><span style="font-style: normal;">inded
young Englishman, a good-natured, grown-up boy, and on the whole
rather colourless. Beckwith, on the contrary, we are expected to
dislike; he is a weak, undersized, obnoxious little animal, almost
uncanny in his ability to gather strength and energy from those
around him, sapping their vitality in a manner almost vampire-like.
But unpleasant as he is, Beckwith has the merit of being original,
and when, half way through the story, the author strikes off his head
with a sweep of his pen, the </span>
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
interest of the
book dies with him. A husband who is not only devoid of jealousy, but
actually foresees that his wife is likely to fall in love with
another man, and makes that man his secretary
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">so as
to secure his constant presence in the house, and amuse himself by
watching the struggles of the luckless couple against their growing
infatuation, is at least a novelty in fiction, although a rather
morbid one. But after Paul has simplified the situation by running an
automobile over Theodore, there follows a wearisome delay while Paul
is mentally outgrowing his boyhood and becoming enough of a man to
decide whether he really meant at the last moment to run over
Theodore, and if he did mean to do so, whether it is his duty to
confess to Norah that he is the murderer of her husband. And when he
finally does muster up the courage to tell her, she just looks at him
and intimates that she has known it all the time and loves him all
the better for it. This ought to satisfy Paul, but it doesn't. He
continues to feel that he ought to make some sort of atonement for
his sin. The idea stays by him, even after he and Norah are married.
But the dead Theodore has left behind him a constant reminder in the
shape of an infant son; and after the manner of infants, it learns in
time to use its feet, and one day manages to toddle away from its
mother across the railway tracks, directly in the course of an
oncoming express train. Paul knows at once that the hour for his
atonement has come. He flings himself before the train, fishes
Theodore's child from under the engine's wheels and tumbles headlong
beyond the tracks. Then the train is gone, and Norah is saying to
him, "You gave your life for the child. You gave it to
Theodore!" And Paul answers in all seriousness, "Yes, at
least I meant to." Mr. Benson must have lost the last vestige of
that sense of humour which he apparently possessed when he wrote
</span><i>Dodo</i><span style="font-style: normal;">.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">~</span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Frederic
Taber Cooper in </span></span></span><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">The
Bookman</span></span></i><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">,
01/1907</span></span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
</div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">In
</span><i>Paul</i><span style="font-style: normal;">, Mr. E. F. Benson
shows himself one of the most daring of modern novelists. I do not
use this epithet in the cant sense of the term, as denoting that he
deals with subjects that it would be more wholesome to leave alone,
for we have here no example of tainted or neurotic fiction. He is a
daring writer because of his extraordinary presumption upon the
confidence and good-will of his readers. He deliberately constructs
the first half of his plot in such a way as to produce the maximum of
irritation, not to say resentment. Our natural impulse at the end of
this section of the book is to throw the whole thing aside and refuse
to allow our patience to be abused any longer. The picture of the
physically puny but intellectually formidable Theodore Beckwith is
too cleverly wrought to be incredible and too subtle to be
disgusting, but we feel as though the writer were taking an unfair
advantage of us in compelling us to make the acquaintance of so
abnormal a creature. If he had not established a claim upon our
attention by his previous work, we should ask indignantly whether our
imaginations were given us to conceive such a ghoulish figure as
this, and should joyfully accept the killing of Beckwith as
liberating us from an evil dream and exempting us from the necessity
of pursuing the fate of the other characters any further. </span>
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-style: normal;">But
Mr. Benson goes placidly on with his story in the conviction that we
shall hear him out, and we do. We then find that the grewsome
Beckwith episodes are the fitting and necessary background for a
character study of remarkable power and thrilling interest. At first
we had thought that the book should properly have been entitled
</span><i>Theodore</i><span style="font-style: normal;">, for until
the end of the thirteenth chapter he was the outstanding figure and
Paul Norris merely one of many victims of his ingenious cruelty; but
from this point onward we recognize that what has gone before is
preparing the way for the great conflict between inclination and duty
that has been fought out in the soul of Paul.</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
A young man of much
personal charm and of habitual gayety of spirit is suddenly staggered
by a tragedy in which his own share is so strangely complicated that
it is impossible for us who know all to pronounce him either innocent
or guilty. It was an accident and no murder, an accident in which
Paul even risked his own life to save that of his enemy; yet, paradox
though it may be, there was in the deed a sufficient element of
murderous intent to plant a sting of ceaseless self-reproach in the
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
conscience of the
unhappy cause of it. This agony of the man who cannot acquit himself,
though the world holds him blameless and even admires his
magnanimity, presents to the novelist a much more intricate problem
than that familiar subject, the inexorable remorse of the undetected
criminal.
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
The terror of Paul
Norris is not that of Bill Sikes. But the alleviation which is open
to the most brutal offender against the laws of society tempts him
also. There is one unfailing means of expunging the sense of evil and
of removing what its victim persuades himself is a morbid sense of
responsibility. The alternate exhilaration and despair, the comfort
and the burden, the valorous resolutions and the ingenious
self-deceptions of the secret drinker are here portrayed with graphic
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
power. The steady
degradation of character that we are watching is the result not of
sensual self-indulgence — for Paul does not drink for drink's sake
— but of an almost panic-stricken impulse to snatch at anything
that promises an anodyne for the poison of remembrance. Until within
a few pages of the close, we are kept in suspense as to whether
Paul's enemy and persecutor, by the mere memory of the tragedy that
cut him off, is to work more havoc after death than in life and is to
drive
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
him to utter
collapse, body and soul.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
It is no small
triumph for a writer to make us admit, when so near the denouement,
that we have not the least idea how it will all end and that whether
Paul goes to the bad or pulls himself together the conclusion will in
either case be entirely credible. The passage in which the crisis is
reached and Paul is delivered at one stroke both from his mental
obsession and from his debasing habit is, for its dramatic interest,
the culmination of the whole story. If we laid the book aside now it
would be with the satisfaction that comes from the relief of an
almost personal anxiety. Yet. the two chapters that remain by no
means produce the effect of an anti-climax. For one moment we
apprehend that we were over-hasty in our anticipation of a 'happy
ending,' and that though Paul has been saved from the curse that has
been dogging him, he is to have but a brief enjoyment of the expected
boon. The apprehension passes and the incident that has caused it is
found to be the one thing that was needed to complete and assure the
happiness that it threatened.</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
A book which
appeals so strongly to the deepest emotions requires a considerable
intermingling of lighter elements if it is not to produce at times a
sense of unbearable strain. This need is supplied by the cleverness
of the dialogue, the variety of the minor characters, and the
artistic quality of the descriptions of Italian and English scenery.
The figure of Mrs. Mundy shows that a cheerful contribution to the
general effect of a story may be made by the introduction of a person
who is incurably pessimistic. Such is her habit of mind that as she
is engaged on a watercolor of the Bay of Salerno she manages to
infuse into the radiant Italian sunshine something of her own
melancholy. "One felt that it might begin to rain any minute."
The Archdeacon's wife also adds much to our pleasure, as does Lady
Ravenscroft, who "did not like money in the least — she only
disliked the absence of it, which is a far different matter."</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">~Herbert
W. Horwill in 'Present-day Tendencies in Modern Fiction', </span></span></span><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">The
Forum</span></span></i><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">,
04/1907</span></span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;">A genuinely fine novel; a
story marked by powerful workmanship and glowing with the breath of
life.</span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">~</span></span><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Daily
Telegraph</span></span></i><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><i>,</i> 1907</span></span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></span></span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;">It is a fine study of a soul
stricken with remorse, brought through the depths to God's peace at
last. It is marked by a high seriousness, and an understanding and
sympathetic tact.</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;">~<i>The Guardian</i>, quoted
in endpapers of <i>Sheaves</i></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><i>
</i></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">W</span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">ritten
with uncommon intensity and brilliance. Somehow it has presented to
him a problem that has appealed to all that is warm and human within
the sphere of his own gifts, and the result has been that he has
given us a novel that is marked by deep thought, clever construction,
and a most intimate knowledge of the play of emotion between real men
and women. He has achieved a triumph.</span></span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">~</span></span></span><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">The
Standard</span></span></i><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">,
quoted in endpapers of </span></span></span><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Sheaves</span></span></i></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><i>
</i></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">T</span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">he
lighter side of the story is characteristic of Mr. Benson at his best
and gayest. Nothing could be more natural or more amusing than most
of the dialogue, and a whole handful of the subsidiary figures; it is
full of admirable portraiture and an abundance </span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">both
</span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">of
humour and </span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">of
</span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">humanity.</span></span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;">~</span><i>The
Outlook</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> (UK)</span><span style="font-style: normal;">,
quoted in endpapers to </span><i>Juggernaut </i><span style="font-style: normal;">and
</span><i>Sheaves</i></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><i>
</i></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">[…]
another story of salvation [is] </span></span></span><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">P</span></span><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">aul</span></span></i><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">
[…] in which the eponymous hero has an affair with a married woman,
murders her husband, repents, and finally saves her child from being
squashed by a train.</span></span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">~Brian
Masters in </span></span></span><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">The
Life of E. F. Benson</span></span></i><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">,
1991</span></span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;"></span></span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><br /></span></span></div>
Ewiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01925901182655242694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-845353778010200403.post-55675427455564422732016-12-12T12:11:00.000+00:002017-07-24T17:12:04.889+01:00The Climber<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-K-Tnh09VU1A/UzlQNX2LX3I/AAAAAAAAAuw/QLdP0iMAFGs/s1600/the+climber.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-K-Tnh09VU1A/UzlQNX2LX3I/AAAAAAAAAuw/QLdP0iMAFGs/s1600/the+climber.jpg" width="256" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>Fiction ~ novel</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>Published 1908</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>Approx. 138,000 words</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>Available <a href="https://archive.org/details/climberbenson00bensiala" target="_blank">online here</a></b></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u><b>THE CRITICS</b></u></span></span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">From
certain </span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">points
of view the heroine of Mr. Benson's new novel, </span></span></span><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">The
Climber</span></span></i><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">,
may be likened to the immortal figure of Becky Sharp. Like Becky,
Lucia is absolutely unscrupulous, cold-hearted, and selfish. Like
Becky, she is brilliantly successful in the early part of her career,
and, again like Becky, she comes to absolute grief in the end. She
has not, however, Becky's financial excuses for her downfall, her
brilliant marriage and subsequent magnificent establishment being
extremely unlike Becky's elopement and the house in Curzon Street
owned by Mr. and Mrs. Rawdon Crawley. The whole of Mr. Benson's story
is occupied with the figure of the heroine; and if it is necessary to
portray in great detail so unattractive a figure, it must be
acknowledged that Mr. Benson's study </span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RyG5gcPUu24/UzlQ0Df4s0I/AAAAAAAAAu4/1PDcl9BcSi4/s1600/Vanity_Fair.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-RyG5gcPUu24/UzlQ0Df4s0I/AAAAAAAAAu4/1PDcl9BcSi4/s1600/Vanity_Fair.jpg" width="209" /></a></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">is eminently successful. But
this is where we find the great difference between clever modern
novels and that great classic to whose heroine we have compared
Lucia. In <i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Vanity
Fair</span></span></i><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">
Becky Sharp, though marvellously drawn, is only one figure in a
gallery of masterly portraits. In a modern story, if the author
takes the trouble to give one character drawn in careful detail, he
builds up the whole structure round this figure and makes the rest of
the book entirely subsidiary to it. Therefore, while </span></span></span><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Vanity
Fair</span></span></i><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">
is read with ever-renewed pleasure, books like </span></span></span><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">The
Climber</span></span></i><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">
are merely painful and morbid studies of social disease. Mr. Benson
has his good heroine ~ her name is Maud ~ but she is only drawn in
outline, the one attractive figure in the story being Lucia's aunt
Cathie. </span></span></span><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">The
Climber </span></span></i><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">is
not an immoral book in the sense of vice being triumphant, but,
inasmuch as the overthrow of the heroine is due to the imprudence of
being found out, it can hardly be said to what our forefathers would
have called “improving reading.”</span></span></span></span></span></blockquote>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">~</span></span></span><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">The
Spectator</span></span></i><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">,
21/11/1908</span></span></span></span></span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">
</span></span></span></span></span>
<br />
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Mr. Benson
evidently believes there is still a serious novel-reading public. He
has written a solid book which refuses to be skimmed, and which might
even bear a second reading. Yet it exploits no virgin field, has no
dubious scene, no purple patches, and no apparent purpose other than
the dramatic representation of character. The social group to which
most of the persons belong is a cultivated section of the English
upper class, or—more democratically speaking—of the 'smart set.'
</span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">The Climber, Lucia
Crimson, is a near spiritual relative of Mr. Pinero's Iris and Mrs.
Wharton's Lily Bart. Living in quiet boredom with her two
tea-drinking, patience-playing maiden aunts—capitally drawn and
differentiated—she nourishes a dream of luxurious self-realization.
She finds her opportunity in the
priggishly æsthetic, very correct young Lord Brayton, who is not
only affected by her personal charms, but is also persuaded that she
can make his home the centre of a 'New Set' devoted to a very refined
type of culture. This æsthetic lord seeks the beautiful in life and
art with curious self-conscious and humorless gravity. Lucia,
clear-headed and hard-hearted, conducts a Napoleonic social campaign,
winning every battle, fulfilling every self-indulgent desire, till at
last real passion touches her. Then, relentlessly, as she took Lord
Brayton from her best friend, she takes away her best friend's
husband. High tragedy cannot befall the two diversely fervid egotists
of the drama; but such disaster as their souls are capable of comes
swiftly upon them.</span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">No other novel of
Mr. Benson's shows such sobriety and maturity of workmanship. The
story moves firmly, harmoniously, if somewhat slowly, forward under
the conduct of a critical intelligence. The earlier chapters, indeed,
make one a little impatient. The author is in no haste to get into
action. He describes his field
with excessive particularity as if assured of an attentive hearing.
He has the bad habit of explaining the precise significance of every
important speech, and he gives the reader a sharp nudge when the
speech is clever. He has worked with such laborious conscientiousness
that he cannot bear to let any good stroke pass unnoticed. Yet his
characters are complexly alive, they develop, and they meet in sharp
dramatic conflict. One may detest them all; but they survive the
closing of the book.</span></span></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">~</span></span></span><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">The
Nation</span></span></i><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">,
25/02/1909</span></span></span></span></span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">
</span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Formerly
the social climber was the </span><i>parvenu</i><span style="font-style: normal;">,
the vulgar person, recently enriched, who sought by means of her
wealth to associate with people of position. That is the class of
person held up to ridicule in such books as </span><i>The
Yellow-plush Papers</i><span style="font-style: normal;">, </span><i>Ten
Thousand a Year</i><span style="font-style: normal;">, and </span><i>The
Potiphar Papers</i><span style="font-style: normal;">. Nowadays the
social straggler must enter the fray with a far more complete outfit
than that of mere money, or she stands no chance of success.
Intelligence, a certain amount of culture, real or imitation,
never-ending perseverance and a goodly proportion of that cleverness
that is quick to perceive and profit by the weaknesses of
others—these are the weapons with which the climber of to-day seeks
to capture the desired position.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">In describing the
career of Lucia Grimson Mr. Benson has given us one of his best
stories and drawn some of his best characters. First of these is
Lucia herself, beautiful, clever and condemned to that hopelessly
dull existence which is the lot of the British alone among the
nations of the earth, and from which matrimony seems to offer the
only escape. Lord Brayton appears upon the scene, and to secure this
eligible husband Lucia exerts every effort and ruse. Brayton is
something of a prig, but a good fellow withal, desirous of doing his
duty as a citizen, and sincere in his wish to have his influence, his
house, and his name stand for something higher than mere fashion. His
appreciation of culture is real, though perhaps a little conscious
and laboured, and it is by playing skilfully upon this
trait of character that Lucia wins him, and deliberately, although
she knows that her best friend, Maud, is in love with him.
</span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">After a few years
of married life she begins to find her husband rather tiresome and
realises the difficulty of keeping up her pose of caring only for the
higher things of life, but she has gained so much by her marriage
that these are but trifles. Up to this time her heart, such as it is,
has been entirely untouched when, suddenly, comes her emotional
experience. Maud has married a cousin of Lord Brayton's
and is very happy. Charlie is attracted by Lucia, as all men are; she
begins by liking to exert her power over him, and before she knows
it, the mischief is done and each is aware of the other's
sentiments. No feeling of loyalty to the man who had given her so
much, no touch of pity for the woman whom she is again robbing,
assails Lucia. She encourages Charlie and draws him on, with the
usual result of detection, exposure, and the Divorce Court. Maud
sends her husband away for six months, at the end of which time he is
to choose between his wife and Lucia. Should his choice be the
latter, Maud will do what she can to make their marriage possible;
should he decide in favour of his wife, she will take him back. Lucia
goes back to the dull home in Brixton to await her sentence, which
comes, six months later, in the form of a paragraph in the paper announcing that Mr.
and Mrs. Charles Lindsay are in town for the remainder of the season.
Her doom is sealed, and from thenceforward her life stretches on
before her like a dusty road, dull and hopeless.
</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Lucia
is plainly the descendant of </span><i>Dodo</i><span style="font-style: normal;">,
the author's earlier creation, though a little more modern, a little
better educated, and far more of a manoeuverer. Her selfishness is a
little more decently covered,
but she is just as hard and worthless. The characters of the two old
aunts are wonderfully well drawn: Aunt Cathie, with the severe
appearance and demeanour and the tender heart, and Aunt Elizabeth,
soft in manner, but really as hard as nails. Mr. Benson is a very
prolific writer, but it is long since he has given us as good a story
as </span><i>The Climber</i><span style="font-style: normal;">.</span></span></span></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">~Mary
K. Ford in </span></span></span><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">The
Bookman</span></span></i><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">,
03/1909</span></span></span></span></span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">
</span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Mr. Benson's book
is a study in selfishness. One Lucia Grimson, poor, discontented, but
ambitious, schemes deliberately to 'grab' the things in life that she
considers worth while. Her wants are insatiable. To
quote her own extravagant language, "I want the Pleiades to wear
in my hair; I want to wear the moon as a pendant round my neck; I
want Saturn and Jupiter to shine in my girdle; I want Venus." By
ingenious deception, a titled husband, wealth, and social standing
are secured, but these are not enough. Finally, the dangerous
experiment of winning the affections of her friend's husband is
tried, and this marks the beginning of the end.</span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">The theme is not a
pleasant one. The book contains few lovable or interesting characters
with the exception, possibly, of the ridiculous but whole-souled Aunt
Cathie with the queer dress and manners of a dim past. Even the
goodness of the wronged wife is of the milk-and-water variety and
calls forth little admiration.
</span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">The end of the
story finds several lives wrecked and Lucia back in the small world
with its round of monotonous duties from which she had struggled so
frantically to escape. The outlook is hopeless for all, and it is
with a sense of dreariness that the reader closes the book with the
question in his mind if the society life of to-day is really as bad
as it is painted.</span></span></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">~</span></span></span><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">The
Literary Digest</span></span></i><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">,
06/03/1909</span></span></span></span></span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">
</span></span><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">In
his latest novel Mr. E. F. Benson shows himself in a graver and
sterner mood than is habitual with him. </span></span></span><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">The
Climber</span></span></i><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">
is a merciless and very clever vivisection of an utterly unscrupulous
and self-centred nature.</span></span></span></span></span></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">~</span><i>The
</i><i>Outlook</i><span style="font-style: normal;">,
quoted in endpapers to </span><i>Juggernaut</i></span></span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>
</i></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">In all the people
whom he introduces he interests us, and his story is written with
striking effect. It contains many passages one would like to quote,
there are some fine descriptions in it, and those little Bensonian
touches which reveal the author's wonderful power of observation are
to be found on almost every page.</span></span></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">~<i>The
</i><i>World</i>,
quoted in endpapers to <i>Juggernaut</i></span></span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>
</i></span></span>
<br />
<pre class="western"><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">An unsparing analysis of an ambitious woman's soul </span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">~ </span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">a woman who believed </span></span></span>that in social
supremacy she would find happiness, and who finds instead the utter despair of one who has
chosen the things that pass away.</span></span></pre>
</blockquote>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">~?, </span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">quoted
in</span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">
endpapers of </span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">In
the Morning Glow</span></span></i></span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">
by Roy Rolfe Gilson</span></span></span></span></span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">
</span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">I</span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">n
</span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">The
Climber</span></span></i></span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">
by E F Benson, we are pleased to welcome the author in familiar mood.
Lucia Grimson, who lives in comparative poverty with her two aunts,
deliberately sets herself to capture the wealthy Lord Brayton, with
whom she knows her friend Maud to be in love. Having climbed, her
business [is] to keep waving the flag her husband hoists. But after
two or three years with a man whom she does not love, and to whom she
is opposed in all her tastes, she is quite ready to yield to the
passion she feels for her husband's cousin, Charlie Lindsay, even
though she is the husband of the friend she wronged so deeply before.
She is divorced by Lord Brayton, Charlie Lindsay returns to his
wife, and Lucia goes back to live with Aunt Cathie. This is the bare
outline of a story that is full of good things. Vividly interesting
characterisation which touches many sides of life, brilliant
dialogue, and well pictured scenes all contribute to make this one of
the most realistic and excellent of Mr Benson's novels. No one is
more adept at unfolding a tale than this author, and, though there is
no striking originality of plot in </span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">The
Climber</span></span></i></span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">,
the book holds attention from the first page to the last.</span></span></span></span></span></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">~</span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">The
Manchester Courier</span></span></i></span></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">,
06/11/1908</span></span></span></span></span></div>
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
</blockquote>
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
</blockquote>
</div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
</blockquote>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">
</span>
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
</blockquote>
Ewiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01925901182655242694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-845353778010200403.post-62316565688066549822016-10-14T19:10:00.000+01:002018-12-07T23:18:16.307+00:00The Life of Alcibiades<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y6p2TGa7O0E/U1_py2H3a6I/AAAAAAAAA10/8tPZxomEIVc/s1600/Alcibiades_4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-y6p2TGa7O0E/U1_py2H3a6I/AAAAAAAAA10/8tPZxomEIVc/s1600/Alcibiades_4.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>Non-fiction ~ biography/Ancient Greece</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>Published 1928</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>Approx 82,000 words </b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;">(First read 14/10/2016) </span></b></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><strike>There are things of EFB's that I will never <u>ever</u> read, that wild horses armed with Kalashnikovs couldn't induce me to read. This is one of them. If you have the stomach for this kind of thing,</strike> the whole book is available <a href="http://catalog.hathitrust.org/Record/005908541" target="_blank">online here</a>.</span><br />
<i><u><b>STOP PRESS!</b></u></i><br />
Yes, I actually read it.<br />
And, would you believe, I actually quite enjoyed it. <br />
<i><u><b> </b></u></i><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u><b>THE CRITICS</b></u></span></span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Athens of the fifth
century B.C. is an episode of human history of which the world is
never likely to grow weary, and, as long as people care more for
brilliance than for stability, Alcibiades is sure to be the most
attractive figure in the latter half of that century. We are well
informed as to his character and works, chiefly by Thucydides, who
wrote as his contemporary, and by Plutarch, the professional
biographer, to whom the fifth century was already ancient history. No
one, perusing those two sources, could fail to have a vivid
impression of Alcibiades, favorable or otherwise; but, of course, the
readers of Thucydides and Plutarch are no longer common, and Mr.
Benson has decided to publish a biography combining the evidence of
antiquity with the inferences which he thinks may fairly
be drawn from that evidence.
</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">
</span></span>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bxdhipfQyFo/VG4jYSo2y2I/AAAAAAAABe4/E37UPRk_i7w/s1600/The%2BLife%2Bof%2BAlcibiades%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-bxdhipfQyFo/VG4jYSo2y2I/AAAAAAAABe4/E37UPRk_i7w/s1600/The%2BLife%2Bof%2BAlcibiades%2B2.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Now the first
question that presents itself is "How far should such a
biography be supplemented by imagination?"
And this is a question of considerable importance. Alcibiades is
exactly the kind of<span style="font-style: normal;">person
whose mental processes one longs to know. He was a rou</span><span style="font-style: normal;">é</span><span style="font-style: normal;">,
a spendthrift, and a traitor, yet he exerted
an almost magic fascination over his contemporaries. For these facts
we have plenty of evidence, implicit or explicit; but for the actual
emotional texture of his life we must rely largely </span><span style="font-style: normal;">on our
imaginations, and their contributions are, o</span><span style="font-style: normal;">f
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">course, fiction. </span></span></span>
</div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">
</span></span>
<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Either the fact or
the fiction might dominate: Mr. Benson has tried to hold the balance
even, and the result is neither a
good novel nor a good biography. It is not a good novel because the
fiction is too <span style="font-style: normal;">scanty
and generally too slight to add very much to what is contained in the
historical sources or to create a character which is a true work of
art. Moreover, the style is repetitious and hyperbolic and sometimes
cheap. We are told half a dozen times that Alcibiades advised the
fortification of </span><span style="font-style: normal;">D</span><span style="font-style: normal;">ecelea;
the superlatives in the language not sufficing, the word </span><span style="font-style: normal;">'</span><span style="font-style: normal;">supremest</span><span style="font-style: normal;">'</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
is created, and </span><span style="font-style: normal;">'</span><span style="font-style: normal;">superbest</span><span style="font-style: normal;">'
</span><span style="font-style: normal;">(!); and it is charitable to
suppose that such a phrase as "the Bolshevist committee (the
Council of Four Hundred!) must commit hari-kari" is due to haste
of composition. </span></span></span></div>
</blockquote>
<br />
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">~Alfred R. Bellinger
in <i>The Saturday Review</i>, 20/07/1929 [much abridged: <a href="http://www.unz.org/Pub/SaturdayRev-1929jul20-01189a02" target="_blank">the original</a> is 1,315 words]</span></span></div>
Ewiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01925901182655242694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-845353778010200403.post-22320899055783471192016-06-15T18:50:00.000+01:002017-07-24T17:14:31.456+01:00Lovers and Friends<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--gp6NTaHMvo/U0Q3jD-nG9I/AAAAAAAAAyI/r3m0AUnJVUk/s1600/lovers.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/--gp6NTaHMvo/U0Q3jD-nG9I/AAAAAAAAAyI/r3m0AUnJVUk/s1600/lovers.jpg" width="209" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>Fiction ~ novel</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>Published 1921</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>Approx. 84,000 words</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>Available <a href="https://archive.org/details/loversandfriend00bensgoog" target="_blank">online here</a> </b></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u><b>THE CRITICS</b></u></span></span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">One wishes that Mr.
E. F. Benson would devote less time to plot in his stories and more
to the delineation of character, for in that line he has an able
touch. His latest book <i>Lovers and Friends</i> [...] opens with an
enchanting sketch of a well-born egoist who might have proved a
dangerous rival of 'Queen Lucia' had he moved in the same circle with
that delectable person. Philip Courthope is a man of good family who
in early life had studied art in Paris. Altho[ugh] not especially
gifted he had a distinct knack at catching a likeness that stood him
in good stead, and it was while painting the portrait of a rich
American woman some eight years his senior that he decided to make
himself comfortable for the rest of his life by a rich marriage. The
lady was the widow of a Prussian Junker, and in spite of a dreadful
experience with one husband she was soon in love with the
good-looking young artist whose portrait of her was so flatteringly
like. They were married, but in two years her fire had quite burned
out and she was ready to pay him two thousand pounds a year and give
him the care of their infant daughter Celia on condition that he did
not interfere with her in any way. The arrangement was made with
equal satisfaction to both. </span></span>
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Courthope settled
in the little watering place of Merriby where, at the opening of the
story he is a person of importance in all social affairs. President
of the County Club, Treasurer of the Golf Club, and Secretary of the
Lawn Tennis Club, his position is sufficiently important to satisfy
even his vanity, while his 'Soirées d'Ennui,' given every other week
during the Merriby season, with music, dancing and supper so
carefully thought out as to seem unpremeditated, are a great success.
In the meantime Mrs. Courthope is enjoying herself tremendously in
London where she is achieving the main object of her life, which is
to know every one. Finally it dawns on her that her daughter is among
the few desirable persons whose acquaintance she has not yet made, so
she writes to Courthope and proposes to drop in on him shortly for
dinner on her way to Exmouth, and see for herself what Celia is like.
The inspection proves so satisfactory that she instantly suggests to
her husband that Celia shall come to her for an indefinite stay, and
offers to make it so well worth his while financially that he
consents, tho[ugh] this part of the negotiation is not made public.
</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">From this moment
the interest in the book begins to wane. Philip, with his vanity, his
egotism and his amusing affectations, gives place to Celia, a modern
young woman; a tribe of rattle-pated friends, and her serious-minded
lover, Lord Matcham. Like so many present-day heroines, Celia's idea
is to take all she can get without much thought as to any return
being made. Lord Matcham has a good deal to offer beside his love and
devotion and Celia accepts all without caring much for the giver. The
usual result follows. She finds her husband rather a bore and bestows
her affections on a handsome young materialist who is frankly out for
the best he can get in life. It would not be fair to <span style="font-style: normal;">the
author to say how the book ends—as a matter of fact the closing
scene leaves the reader a good deal of liberty to settle things for
himself, but as a story it drags, one reason being that it is
impossible to feel much enthusiasm for Celia in spite of her beauty
and unhappiness. In fact, the modern heroine is getting to be
something of a nuisance with her general crabbedness and discontent.
Insisting upon having a child if she is single, refusing to bear one
if married, never in love with her husband, no matter what his
merits, and generally attaching herself to the most worthless man of
her acquaintance, she is rapidly becoming a bore of the first water.
Lord Matcham is faintly reminiscent of Lord Brayton in </span><i>The
Climber</i><span style="font-style: normal;">, tho</span><span style="font-style: normal;">[ugh]</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
he is not such a prig; Mrs. </span><span style="font-style: normal;">C</span><span style="font-style: normal;">ourthope
is an inconsequent person, and her conversation recalls that of the
gifted Dodo, only it is more foolish, less pretentious and
consequently more amusing. In Philip Courthope Mr. Benson has given
us another of those characters whom he sketches so well, and our
chief regret is that there is not more of </span><span style="font-style: normal;">hi</span><span style="font-style: normal;">m
in the book and less of the tumultuous Celia.</span></span></span></div>
</blockquote>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">
</span></span><br />
<div style="font-style: normal;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">~</span></span><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">The
Literary Digest</span></span></i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">,
28/01/1922</span></span></span></span></div>
Ewiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01925901182655242694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-845353778010200403.post-7566839631503013952016-03-23T16:52:00.000+00:002017-07-24T17:15:36.790+01:00Sir Francis Drake<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-S5hsD1SAXx0/VG4cX1pSFNI/AAAAAAAABeE/nETmGl6AIBg/s1600/Sir%2BFrancis%2BDrake.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-S5hsD1SAXx0/VG4cX1pSFNI/AAAAAAAABeE/nETmGl6AIBg/s1600/Sir%2BFrancis%2BDrake.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>Non-fiction ~ historical biography</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>Published May(?) 1927 </b></span>Ewiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01925901182655242694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-845353778010200403.post-83316057470607191052016-01-23T17:01:00.000+00:002016-02-02T19:20:04.727+00:00The Weaker Vessel<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eVaEJ-LjYi0/U4DCNSWtZXI/AAAAAAAAA50/5KHr9zd0LEk/s1600/The+Weaker+Vessel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-eVaEJ-LjYi0/U4DCNSWtZXI/AAAAAAAAA50/5KHr9zd0LEk/s1600/The+Weaker+Vessel.jpg" width="201" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>Fiction ~ novel</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>Published March 1913</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>Approx. 138,000 words </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><u>THE CRITICS</u></b></span></span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>
</b></span></span>
<br />
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">
Mr Benson has written his latest novel in a serious mood. There is
little of his usual froth and bubble, and no Lady Sunningdales
enliven the pages. Nor does the story possess the vitality and
delightful humanness of <i>The Challoners</i> and some of his
fellows. Eleanor and Harry Whittaker are very interesting to read
about, but the Eleanor of the first few chapters who peruses <i>The
Second Mrs Tanqueray</i> in secret, and rebels against her duty
loving stepmother is much nearer the reader's heart than the Eleanor
who says “I forgive you, Harry dear,” at frequent intervals.
Harry is often in need of forgiveness. When, as tutor in the house
where Eleanor is governess, he wins her love, he possesses good
looks, qualified by a weak mouth, and a gift for play writing.
Unfortunately this gift requires to be stimulated to do its work
well. Half a glass of whisky will enable it to achieve in a couple
of hours, what a whole day's solid work has left undone. “From
habit, just as people will take a little more bread at breakfast
which they do not want, in order to put on it the butter on their
plates, which they do no want either,” he gets into the way of
finishing the glass. As a matter of course the habit grows. Eleanor
discovers it some time after a successful play enabled Harry to marry
her. Then the fight begins ~ Eleanor's love versus the drink which
gives Harry such happy moods of inspiration. The battle is fierce,
for a long time the enemy, reinforced by the actress Maria Anstruther,
is victorious, and it is only a chance street accident that gives
Eleanor the final victory. In <i>The Weaker Vessel</i> the author
displays all his delightful insight into human nature and the little
trivialities of life, and while this quality continues to pervade his
books they will never contain an uninteresting page.</span></span></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">
~<i>The Manchester Courier</i>, 07/03/1913</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">
</span></span>
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">
There are many people, we imagine, who will consider Mr E. F.
Benson's latest story, <i>The Weaker Vessel</i> […], the best he
has yet written, and certainly its character-studies very nearly
approach the high-water mark in modern fiction. Eleanor Ramsden,
daughter of a clergyman of peculiarly lovable character, leaves home
owing to a disagreement with her stepmother, and accepts a position
as governess in the family of an acquaintance. In this same family
Harry Whittaker, son of Lord Prinstead, a drunken peer, is acting as
tutor, and in and between his tutorial duties is engaged upon the
writing of a play, the composition of which owes a good deal to
Eleanor's criticism and suggestion. The play is produced, makes a
sensation, and Whittaker and Eleanor are soon afterwards married.
For a time they are blissfully happy, until at last the young wife
discovers that the brilliant passages of her husband's plays ~
written always after she has retired for the night ~ are induced by
alcoholic over-indulgence. She exerts herself to save him, and only
partially succeeds. While under the spell of her wonderfully subtle
influence Whittaker is enabled to ward off the demon but presently
another equally potent and less beneficent influence enters his life
in the person of the leading actress for whom his play has been
written, but whose influence is eventually conquered by the splendid
patience and tactful winsomeness of his wife. The character of
Eleanor Ramsden is indeed a magnificent creation, and one upon which
its creator may well be congratulated. The conception is striking
and is the more convincing on account of its very unconventionality,
and it is no small tribute to Mr Benson's literary skill that even
the wayward Harry Whittaker, with all his faults and with all his
failings, never for one moment exasperates or forfeits the sympathy
of the reader. The book, indeed, is in every sense so far removed
from the commonplace and so brilliantly written throughout that it
must be reckoned certainly amongst the most important novels of the
present publishing season, and is, moreover, probably one of the few
novels of modern production for which the discriminate reader is
likely to find a permanent place in his bookshelf.</span></span></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">
~ <i>The Liverpool Echo</i>, 08/03/1913</span></span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">
Mr E. F. Benson has perhaps been more praised and more blamed than
any other living novelist. He has, of course, the defects of his
qualities, and it is impossible for any of us to be always on the
heights. But despite occasional adverse criticism, each of Mr E. F.
Benson's novels is eagerly welcomed, for in certain senses he gives
us what no other writer can do. His latest book, <i>The Weaker
Vessel</i>, is one of his longest novels, and he gives a powerful
picture of the heights of heroism and unselfishness to which a woman
can rise to shield and help her 'Weaker Vessel'. Harry, with his
brilliant brain and wholly unbalanced temperament, would not retain
the tolerance, far less the love, of any ordinary woman, but Mr
Benson's unerring skill makes Eleanor's attitude and
large-heartedness simply the outcome of a natural soul. No one can
describe London life and society with a wittier and happier pen than
Mr Benson, and the creation of Mrs Ramsden along would make the book
a joy. Who does not recognise in her the patient, exasperating,
unselfish, posing martyr who renders life intolerable to those round
her. <i>The Weaker Vessel</i> is distinctly one of Mr E. F. Benson's
typical and excellent novels.</span></span></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">
~<i>Aberdeen Daily Journal</i>, 10/03/1913</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">
</span></span>
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<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">
Mr E. F. Benson has made wonderful strides as an author since he
wrote the story of undergraduate life at Cambridge, <i>Babe B.A.</i>
[sic]. That was bright enough in its way, but it scarcely
foreshadowed the brilliant work which was to follow. To-day Mr
Benson is unquestionably one of our most popular novelists, and a new
work from his pen is eagerly welcomed. It is not difficult to
discover the reason for this popularity. Mr Benson's novels depict
life [as] it really is; his characters are so thoroughly human. His
heroes and heroines are not those perfect beings whom one so
frequently finds in the realms of fiction, but ordinary, everyday
people, with faults and failings like the rest of mankind.</span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">
In <i>The Weaker Vessel</i>, his latest novel, Mr Benson is at his
best. The character who furnishes the title is Harry Whittaker, an
amiable but weak young man, who when we first make his acquaintance
is acting as a private tutor, but soon afterwards blossoms forth into
a successful playwright. There is, however, one great drawback. He
finds he can only do good work under the stimulus of alcohol. “He
had no craving for alcohol in itself, he merely employed it as a
means towards an intellectual end, to give him the sparkle and
freedom of brain that were necessary to the creation of incisive
dramatic writing.” Time and again he resolves to do without it,
and to use no spur except that of his own desire, but in the end it
proves too strong for him.</span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">
Acting as governess in the same house as Whittaker is Eleanor
Ramsden, a high-spirited girl, with whom he finds he has many traits
and tastes in common. While his ambition is to write a play that
shall be accepted by a great actor-manager, she is tremendously keen
on becoming an actress, and has already given proof of her talent.
Their marriage follows the production of Harry's first play, and for
a time there seems nothing to mar their happiness, but it is when her
husband is at work on his second play that Eleanor discovers his
weakness. To his wife he explains the position:</span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">
“<i>There's nothing to be said of the habit I have got into. But
the matter is that I can't write unless I've been drinking. Drink ~
I don't mean getting drunk ~ sets something loose in my brain, that
which we used to call the elf or the Uncontrollable. And when it's
loose ~ very often just one whisky and soda lets its loose ~ I get so
keen about my work that I just must keep it loose. And that means
drinking more. So it goes on, I drinking instinctively and working,
utterly happy because I know I am doing good work, and that the best
part of my brain is active. You remember my reading you </i><span style="font-style: normal;">The
Dilemma</span><i> in the schoolroom at the Wilkins? And how you put
your finger on certain bits of slack stuff? All that, just that, and
nothing else, was written without ~ without help. All that you
thought was good was written with help. In consequence, I did no
good work. Of course, it was a rotten plan to trifle with such
methods at all, but it was so easy to persuade myself that I would
just finish this act, or just finish this play, and that then I would
give it up.”</i></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">
This is what Harry is always saying: “I will give it up when I have
done this,” but he has not the strength of will to leave it alone
for long. Through it all, however, Eleanor is his good angel. He
repeatedly falls away, but she never turns from him, even when faced
with a worse trial in the form of a dangerous intimacy between her
husband and a leading actress for whom he was been writing a play.
She is ever striving to lift him up to higher things, and in the end
she has her reward.</span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>The Weaker Vessel</i><span style="font-style: normal;">, while
quite unlike the customary stage novel, gives one an interesting
glimpse of the work involved in the writing and production of a play,
and reveals something of the terrible nervousness experienced both by
dramatist and actor on a first night.</span></span></span></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">~</span><i>The Cambridge Independent
Press</i><span style="font-style: normal;">, 14/03/1913</span></span></span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">
There is a world of irony in the title Mr E. F. Benson has chosen for
his latest novel. Eleanor [Ramsden] marries a man who has made a
brilliant success of his first play, and is proud of her husband and
his work. The awakening comes when she learns that the cannot write
save under the stimulus supplied by intoxicants. He is, indeed, the
weaker vessel, but her large-hearted love prevents the catastrophe
that seems inevitable. Worse is to come, but still she sacrifices
herself for the sake of the man she loves. Mr Benson has given us a
masterly analysis of temperament and character. He probes the full
depths and measures the heights of human nature, and in both he is
equally successful.</span></span></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">
~<i>The Courier</i> [Dundee], 20/03/1913</span></span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">This
is a contrast in its quietness to the liveliness of the book which
first attracted attention to Mr. Benson as a novelist. </span><i>Dodo</i><span style="font-style: normal;">
had more sparkle, but </span><i>The Weaker Vessel</i><span style="font-style: normal;">
has far more fidelity to life. It is a serious and truthful study of
social conditions and of individual temperament. Particularly exact
in its realism is the character of the self-sufficient and
narrow-minded rector's wife who makes</span> miserable the life
of her cheerful, ambitious, and gifted stepdaughter. Equally good in
its depiction is the character of the man the girl marries—a genius
as a writer of plays only when he is under the inspiration of
alcohol, and therefore inevitably a weak though lovable character,
whose life trends naturally downward. While his power weakens, his
wife's strengthens; and she becomes a fine embodiment of honor and
faithfulness.</span></span></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">~</span><i>The Outlook</i><span style="font-style: normal;">
(US), 05/04/1913</span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">
</span></span>
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">
In Mr. Benson's new novel he draws five admirably contrasted
principal characters. The father of Eleanor, the heroine, Mr.
Ramsden, a wise and benevolent country clergyman, has that knowledge
of the world which comes from the Church not having been his first
profession. In striking contrast to him is his well-intentioned wife,
who succeeds in being the most disagreeable person who has appeared
in fiction for a long time past. The other three characters are the
gentleman who enacts the name part of the piece (the novel is so
concerned with theatrical matters that it is impossible to help
slipping into theatrical language); Eleanor, his wife, who, besides
being by far the better man of the two, is a heaven-born genius on
the boards; and the Circe of the book, who leads Harry Whitaker
astray. She, however, is a far more conventional figure. Harry
himself is a striking study, and Mr. Benson almost persuades his
readers that his hero was right in yielding to the temptation of
giving way to drink when it enabled him to write such admirable
dramas. Eleanor Whitaker is herself a well-drawn and credible figure,
though the reader would like to hear the opinion of a professional
actor-manager on the possibility of her taking the town by storm on
the stage without ever having learned the rudiments of her art. The
book cannot be called epoch-making, but it is pleasant reading,
though the unfortunate Harry is obliged to be half-paralysed before
his moral character can be rescued.
</span></span></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">~</span><i>The Spectator</i><span style="font-style: normal;">,
26/04/1913</span></span></span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">I</span><span style="font-style: normal;">n</span><span style="font-style: normal;">
this novel there are two weaker vessels, namely, the father and the
husband of the heroine; and for some time we were unable to make up
our minds which weaker </span>vessel was intended to give the title
to the book. If this were a play, the leading female part would not
be that or the heroine, but that of her step-mother—the very
virtuous, correct, and managing clergyman's wife. A clever actress
might make a great deal of the character. Whether the story would
make a play we are not so sure. The vicar's wife gave much of her
goods to feed the poor; and she once cheerfully gave her body—at
least, her hands—to be burned, by putting out the flames in the
clothes of a little boy, who had set himself on fire at a Christmas
tree. "The child was not hurt at all, so prompt was her aid ;
but he was hurt afterwards when Mrs. Ramsden repeated the occurrence
to his mother, adding that she had repeatedly warned the children not
to touch the candles. But in no reasonable mind could there be any
doubt as to the overwhelming weight that duty occupied in the
spiritual economy of Mrs. Ramsden. She put out the small male infant,
with risk to herself, as cheerfully and as ungrudgingly as she
repeated his misconduct afterwards to his mother." This is the
key to her actions and sayings, whenever she comes on the stage; and
they usually "bring down the house." As to the lengthy
descriptions of the married hero's gradual falling in love with an
objectionable actress, and his equally gradual taking to drinking, we
found them dull, although cleverly described. By the way, the hero's
wife was also an actress, and a very fine one. After seeing her
perform, in her greatest character, Mrs. Ramsden said: "The
audience were very much pleased, but to me she did not seem to be
acting at all. She spoke and did things as she might have in the
vicarage at home." And when told that this was the highest
tribute she could give her, Mrs. Ramsden replied: "You mean that
Harry wrote the part for her, so that there was no acting to be done.
I am sure that was very clever of him." The woman is really
splendid all through.</span></span></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">~</span><i>The
Tablet</i><span style="font-style: normal;">, 14/06/1913</span></span></span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">E. F.
Benson, who customarily avoids problems, presents in </span><i>The
Weaker Vessel</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> an extraordinarily
strong and searching study of the man who yields to the devil and the
flesh. Whoever desires, without personal experiment, familiarity with
the mechanism of surrendering to temptation, cannot do better than to
consider the ways of the hero.</span></span></span></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">~</span><i>The Atlantic Monthly
</i><span style="font-style: normal;">[US]</span><span style="font-style: normal;">,
11/1913</span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">
</span></span>
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>The Weaker Vessel</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> (1913)
contains two women characters who are essentially Bensonian: they may
be copied from life, but they do not live. One is the daughter of a
viscount and the wife of a country clergyman, and she has all the
aggressive qualities that one expects of such women. She lives in an
atmosphere of Sunday schools and choir practices, and she is
convinced of her absolute righteousness. She exhibits a monumental
lack of humour, and her bright, hard verbosity has a stunning effect
both on the reader and on Eleanor, her step-daughter. Eleanor is the
heroine who, rebelling against her narrow life in the parsonage,
marries Harry Whittaker, an alcoholic playwright who has leapt to
fame with his first play. Without any training or experience of life
Eleanor becomes a famous actress, portraying subtle and varied parts
with consummate triumph, taking London by storm. Also among the
characters is Marian Anstruther, the stage siren, who wears
rose-madder cloaks, and Louis Grey, a high-minded actor-manager who
is in love with Eleanor, but at a respectful distance. Not only is
Eleanor a great actress, she is wise, large-hearted and loving, and
when she discovers her husband's shameful secret she sets out to save
him; and she does not desert him even when the siren influences him
to descend even further into the depths of degradation.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">
Harry injures his spine in a motor accident and will never be able to
walk again, and Eleanor gives praise to God for delivering him into
her hands ~ no more naughtiness for Harry, and no more rivals for her.
Marian disappears into outer darkness, though not before Eleanor
forgives her for being Harry's mistress. The book ends with a hint
of spring in the air after a bitter winter. Harry is about to start
another play and Eleanor to resume her acting.</span></span></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">~Geoffrey Palmer and Noel Lloyd in
</span><i>E. F. Benson As He Was</i><span style="font-style: normal;">,
1988</span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">
</span></span>
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">Typical of the notices [E. F. Benson
was getting in the pre-war years] are those which greeted </span><i>The
Weaker Vessel</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> (1913), whose
characters include an alcoholic playwright, a temperamental actress,
and the stock clergyman's wife stuffed with nauseating piety. </span><i>The
Gentlewoman</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> wrote, “They are
essentially Bensonian creations. They might quite possibly be
copied from life, but they do not live.” The reviewer went on to
lament Fred's 'surface polish, the Benson Brilliantine', because it
obscured the talent beneath. </span><i>New Age</i><span style="font-style: normal;">,
having depicted Fred as 'a servile scribbler', wondered whether he
was not, in fact, a satirist in disguise, which was true though not
generally acknowledged. Similarly, the </span><i>Western Gazette</i><span style="font-style: normal;">
remarked that “Mr Benson attacks no problem, but merely paints
portraits remorselessly; but the problem nevertheless peeps through
between the lines.”</span></span></span></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">~Brian Masters in </span><i>The Life
of E. F. Benson, </i><span style="font-style: normal;">1991</span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span></span><br />Ewiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01925901182655242694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-845353778010200403.post-8907533757928476242015-11-07T18:06:00.000+00:002016-02-02T19:21:34.699+00:00Alan<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-isM2lq_xEU4/UzHFIJXvcMI/AAAAAAAAAqc/LwY4Agdv254/s1600/Alan.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-isM2lq_xEU4/UzHFIJXvcMI/AAAAAAAAAqc/LwY4Agdv254/s1600/Alan.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>Fiction ~ novel</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>Published 1924</b></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><u>THE CRITICS</u> </b></span></span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><u>MR E F BENSON AGAIN</u></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Mr E. F. Benson continues to give us novels from his
busy pen, and we imagine he secures a pretty large circle of readers
for them. He is something in the nature of an historical survival,
and yet he manages to preserve a rather remarkable quality of youth.
As far as we can remember, his sympathies are always on the side of
the youthful outlook, and he succeeds, up to a point, in stating
youth's case. The curious thing about him is that in the welter of
modern realism, such as we owe to Wells, Bennett, Galsworthy, and
their successors, he alone survives as a realist of the period
before. Older novel readers remember well the revelation of a Benson
story twenty-five and thirty years ago, how real it all seemed after
the romantic tales of Weyman, Anthony Hope (who did not try again in
his Dolly Dialogues vein), and others on the one hand, and the novels
of such writers as Mrs Humpry [sic] Ward on the other. He was as
refreshing as Pinero on the stage after the Robertson comedies. And
now, good though he is, he is seen to be behind the times, just as,
again, is Pinero. The one has been eclipsed by Beresford,
Swinnerton, and Compton McKenzie [sic, again], as the other by
Somerset Maughams, Stanley Houghtons, and a host of others.</span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">Mr Benson does not
alter greatly. His style to-day in </span><i><span style="text-decoration: none;">Alan</span></i><span style="text-decoration: none;">
[…] is much the same as it was in </span><i><span style="text-decoration: none;">The
Image in the Sand</span></i><span style="text-decoration: none;"> and
earlier books still. Clever 'chattery' is its mark, and a species of
character drawing which consists in emphasising in hard, black lines
the lineaments of complex beings, made up of a hundred real people
combined to make the type-people with whom his stories deal. The
publishers tell us on the jacket that </span><i><span style="text-decoration: none;">Alan</span></i><span style="text-decoration: none;">
is a 'clever study of a novelist of the old school'. It is a clever
study, but Alan is no novelist who ever lived or ever could have
lived. The qualities of a great many novelists or imaginary
novelists are combined to make an impossible creature. Similarly
with his wife and her young lover, and the lion-hunter lady who so
basely deserts him for his rising young relative. They are all drawn
in a way which makes one suspect that Mr Benson has no faith in his
readers. He cannot trust us to see what people are.</span></span></span></div>
</blockquote>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">
</span></span><br />
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="text-decoration: none;">~</span><i><span style="text-decoration: none;">The
Yorkshire Post</span></i><span style="text-decoration: none;">,
24/12/1924</span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">
</span></span>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Alan is a
successful author, twenty years older than the wife he has made a
drudge. A masterful study in egotism, a departure for Benson.</span></span></blockquote>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">~<i>The Bookman's Guide to Fiction</i>, 06/1925</span></span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">
</span></span>
<br />
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">So predominant is
Alan's profession in Mr. Benson's study of an egoist, that he strikes
one as an egoist who does nothing but write novels. For his
selfishness lies in neglecting his wife and enslaving her as his
amanuensis, and in hating his young cousin Tim because Alan fades out
as a writer while Tim
becomes the literary idol of the hour. His feeling toward Tim is
purely professional; be does not hate him because he and Agnes,
Alan's wife, fall in love with each other.
</span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">Within narrow
limits Alan is a convincing egoist, but as a writer he is hardly more
than a caricature. Though conveyed in a long-winded and repetitious
fashion, without any of those unforgettable flashes which reveal so
much, Alan's egoism is made quite clear; but as a novelist,
particularly a once famous novelist, he does not ring true. His
tiresome pomposity, his dull wit and complete lack of humor, his
almost incredible way of composing, his ignorance of modern
literature, are a little too much to bear
with, considering his position; they, and not his egoism—which is
quite conceivable, even in the great—turn him into a caricature.
</span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">The book fails to
assume life for another reason; it is far too wordy and undramatic.
It has no feeling for either pace or climax, and two potentially good
scenes—Alan's finding in a literary supplement a panegyric to Tim
he expected for himself, and his entrance into Mrs. Probyn's
drawing-room to find Tim lionized—are stodgily mismanaged. What Mr.
Benson required to
</span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">show up his egotist
was not scene after scene in Alan's workroom, but a few sharp
incidents, a few revealing situations, a few clipped studies of the
characters at interplay. What he achieved was a book as dull as one
of Alan's own.</span></span></div>
</blockquote>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hZ9DvRWUsm0/UzHFZI0jN4I/AAAAAAAAAqk/MQujr3eOCKM/s1600/alan2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hZ9DvRWUsm0/UzHFZI0jN4I/AAAAAAAAAqk/MQujr3eOCKM/s1600/alan2.jpg" width="205" /></a></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">~<i>The Saturday Review</i> (US), 13/06/1925</span></span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">
</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">In
</span><i>Alan</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> Mr. Benson has
given us a novel second only to his exquisitely humorous </span><i>Queen
Lucia</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> as satirical comedy. The
book deals entirely with the home life of a successful novelist whose
vogue is on the wane, and the story introduces us, not only to Alan
and his much enduring wife, but also to certain other well-drawn and
entertaining characters. Alan is a supremely selfish man, not as
elaborately portrayed or of as high social rank as Meredith's Egoist,
but rather a British edition of the German husbands so feelingly
delineated in </span><i>Elizabeth and Her German Garden</i><span style="font-style: normal;">
and </span><i>The Caravaners</i><span style="font-style: normal;">.
Alan's wife acts as his amanuensis, and, since he is as tireless a
worker as was Anthony Trollope, the conditions of her life are
pitiable. Moreover, she gains but little sympathy from her mother,
who was once in love with Alan herself, or her sister Dora, a worldly
woman married to a rich man and able to indulge her fancy for costly
garments, a hobby that engrosses her waking hours. There comes into
this family one Mrs. Probyn, a social pusher of the most virulent
type, whose quarry is of the intellectual rather than the titled
class. In her vision Alan is the sun around which the lesser planets
of her dinner-table revolve, and, as he seldom goes about in society,
she regards her capture of him as the most brilliant feather in her
richly adorned cap. She squirms her way into the household, using her
flattering tongue as a weapon of assault, for the novelist's vanity
renders him an easy mark. She soon establishes herself in his study
as a temporary amanuensis, in order to relieve the wife of some of
her toil, and it is not long before she becomes a permanent fixture
beside him. Meanwhile, as every reader will be glad to note, a young
cousin appears on the scene and relieves the wife of some of her
loneliness. He is an attractive young fellow, and every woman who
reads the book, especially those who are reminded by Alan of their
own husbands, will wish him well.</span></span></span></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">~<i>The Outlook </i>(US), 04/11/1925</span></span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<br />
<br />
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The little clutch of secondraters, belonging to the
first half of the 1920s, are <i>Robin Linnet</i> (1919), <i>Colin</i>
(1923), <i>Alan</i> (1924), <i>Colin II</i> (1925), <i>Rex</i>
(1925), <i>Mezzanine</i> (1926) and <i>Pharisees and Publicans
</i>(1926). They may be a tribute to Fred's industry, but not to his
talent. He seems to have been marking time, waiting in a literary
limbo, content to drift along. The seven books are either
exceedingly silly or exceedingly sentimental or just dull.</span></span></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">~Geoffrey Palmer and Noel Lloyd in <i>E. F. Benson As He
Was</i>, 1988</span></span></div>
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
</blockquote>
Ewiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01925901182655242694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-845353778010200403.post-54221050100053153612015-09-30T15:48:00.000+01:002016-02-02T19:24:09.576+00:00Up and Down<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EKdaQQAMw0o/VG4nJe-mENI/AAAAAAAABgA/KzJrXVAjkI4/s1600/Up%2Band%2BDown.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EKdaQQAMw0o/VG4nJe-mENI/AAAAAAAABgA/KzJrXVAjkI4/s1600/Up%2Band%2BDown.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>Fiction ~ novel</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>Published 1918</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>Approx. 92,000 words</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>Available <a href="https://archive.org/details/upanddown00bensgoog" target="_blank">online here</a></b></span>Ewiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01925901182655242694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-845353778010200403.post-32616047379388674412015-07-28T18:54:00.000+01:002016-02-02T19:23:18.530+00:00The Rubicon<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7iXwGyHsI_M/U4oXL30W20I/AAAAAAAAA7w/tZHOuSYDi08/s1600/victorian+woman.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-7iXwGyHsI_M/U4oXL30W20I/AAAAAAAAA7w/tZHOuSYDi08/s1600/victorian+woman.jpg" width="231" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>Fiction ~ novel</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>Published 9th April 1894</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>73,900 words</b></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b><u>THE CRITICS</u></b></span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>
</b></span>
<br />
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Mr Benson's very
clever and deeply interesting novel ~ a novel far superior to <i>Dodo</i>.</span></span></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">~<i>Sussex Daily
News</i>, quoted in newspaper ad of 12/06/1894</span></span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Mr Benson's second
novel is better artistically than his first. The character-drawing
is excellent.</span></span></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">~<i>The Globe</i>,
quoted in newspaper ad of 12/06/1894</span></span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Without inquiring
into the causes of the notorious success of Mr Benson's first novel,
it is at least fair to say that it was not for any phenomenal
exhibition of imaginative or descriptive power that his book became
the comet of a season for the circulating libraries. <i>Dodo</i>
could hardly be hailed as a sign that a new sun was rising in English
fiction, and <i>The Rubicon</i> affords no reason for any belief that
another name has been or will be added to the rolll of notable
novelists. The faultlessly beautiful Eva, who very deliberately
barters her attractions for wealth and position, and who, neither
loving nor beloved by her husband, seduces the affections of a
'clean', handsome, and abnormally innocent youth, already engaged to
someone else, is no new figure in fiction. She has done duty in
hundreds of romances of that well-known class in which sin is
invariably associated with diamonds in the women and immaculate
evening-dress in the men. In fact, <i>The Rubicon</i> would not have
been out of place in that imaginary publication which Mr George
Moore, in a book to be presently noticed, describes as the <i>Family
Reader</i>. Lady Hayes (Eva) is an extremely selfish person, who
nevertheless does two 'sublimely unselfish things' in her short life.
She gives up a lover who has discovered the wickedness of her
intentions, but who is none the less bound in her chains; and she
ultimately takes prussic acid as the best means of retrieving the
evil she has wrought. But Mr Benson's chief object is not, one may
fairly suppose, to teach us high moral lessons, and those who read
his novel will look for momentary pleasure rather than for permanent
profit. This being so, it must be allowed that the wit ~ such as it
was ~ of <i>Dodo</i>, was far superior in quality to the wit of the
book now before us. It is unsatisfactory as a rule to extract
isolated specimens of 'humour', but we may make one or two
quotations, showing the kind of thing that Mr Benson is capable of
presenting to his readers. We are told that a guest at Eva's
wedding, “in spite of his strawberry leaves and his pedigree and
his frock-coat, trembled in his patent leather shoes, and in his
confusion was vividly impressed at the idea that his Prayer-book
consisted entirely of the Service for the visitation of those of
riper years to be used at sea on the occasion of the Queen's
accession.” Among the characteristics of '<i>[illegible: 'the
best'?]</i> London houses' we are elsewhere informed <i>[illegible:
'that'?]</i> “a couple of dozen large square windows looking out on
to what is technically known as 'the <i>[illegible]</i> garden',
partly because it is round, and partly because it is sparsely planted
with sooty, stunted <i>[illegible: 'bushes'?]</i>, scattered about on
what courtesy interprets to be grass.” These things may not be
<i>[illegible: 'intelligent'?]</i> wit, but if they are not, what
they meant for, and if they are, even 'the new humour' will hardly
acknowledge them as its own. But in spite of its many bad qualities,
<i>The Rubicon</i> will no doubt give pleasure to scores of
<i>[illegible: 'those'?]</i> of the undiscriminating sort.</span></span></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">~<i>The Morning
Post</i>, 11/04/1894</span></span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The author of the
much talked of <i>Dodo</i> has followed up its success by the
publication of a fresh novel, <i>The Rubicon</i>. Mr E F Benson is,
as all the world now knows, the son of the Archbishop of Canterbury,
but a critic of <i>The Rubicon</i> unhesitatingly avers that if the
book has any purpose at all, it is so written as to ridicule virtue,
and to applaud vice. It is perhaps as well there is in the English
Church no 'Index Expurgatorius'.</span></span></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">~leader column of
<i>The Evening Telegraph and Star</i> [Sheffield], 10/04/1894</span></span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">We congratulate Mr
Benson upon an exceptional achievement. He has conceived and
executed successfully an analytical study of modern life, in which a
certain salt of humour serves to keep the pages wholesome. The book
is a notable advance upon Mr Benson's previous work.</span></span></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">~<i>National
Observer</i>, quoted in a newspaper ad of 14/05/1894</span></span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
</blockquote>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">
</span>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
</blockquote>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">
</span>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
</blockquote>
<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">
</span>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
</blockquote>
Ewiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01925901182655242694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-845353778010200403.post-33167737291750047722015-06-19T16:50:00.000+01:002016-02-02T19:22:48.074+00:00Robin Linnet<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-G8K1fKoZb0k/VG4brD4LUII/AAAAAAAABd8/SOFPDG6kAxU/s1600/Robin%2BLinnet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-G8K1fKoZb0k/VG4brD4LUII/AAAAAAAABd8/SOFPDG6kAxU/s1600/Robin%2BLinnet.jpg" width="252" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>Fiction ~ novel</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>Published 1919</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><b>Approx. 98,000 words </b></span>Ewiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01925901182655242694noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-845353778010200403.post-58653227772330198642015-05-23T18:37:00.000+01:002015-05-27T18:39:17.151+01:00Mike / Michael<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>First published in serial form under the title <i>Michael</i>, from November 1915 to <i>?</i></b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>First published in book form in the UK under the title <i>Mike</i>, September(?) 1916</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>Published in the US (1916/17) under the title <i>Michael</i>¹</b></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gI-1N3FE6JA/VWX_r0cdNzI/AAAAAAAABw0/gXnPbaDhHGM/s1600/Mike.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gI-1N3FE6JA/VWX_r0cdNzI/AAAAAAAABw0/gXnPbaDhHGM/s320/Mike.jpg" width="241" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>57,300 words</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>(First read 23/05/2015) </b></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">¹ To be honest, <i>Michael</i> is the better title as that's how the hero's most often referred to.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><u><b>THE REVIEWS</b></u></span><br />
<br />
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">One feels somehow
that the writing of <i>Mike</i> […] imposed no particular strain
upon Mr E. F. Benson. It suggests a delightfully easy command of
material. But, of course, Mr Benson is a master of graceful
narrative, and it is perhaps a tribute to his power that he should
give the rather poignant situation to which his tale leads up so
simple and, in a sense, so charming a directness. The lucidity of
his examination of a mood and passion is delightful. The story turns
upon the war. Mike, otherwise Lord Comber, gives up the Army for
music, and is accidentally brought into contact with a young music
teacher, Hermann Falbe, and his sister, for whom he develops an
appreciation which in the case of the latter becomes love. The
Falbes are of mixed parentage, their father being German, and, though
they have lived their life in this country, Hermann is a German at
heart. One of the best things in the book is the description of his
emotions on paying a visit to his fatherland. When war breaks out
Hermann leaves England in order to fight for his own country, and
Mike rejoins the Army to fight for his. How, then, about the love
affair between Mike and Hermann's sister? The conflict of emotions,
personal and national, created by war and love is manifestly
intricate, but Mr Benson treats it so cleverly that the play of
feeling is easily followed. We cannot say that the novel is one of
his best. It is none the less an attractive story. The writing is
always pleasant, and the characterisation has a crisp distinction
which is refreshing to encounter. All the characters interest us in
some way, and their individual peculiarities are described with
admirable skill.</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">~<i>Liverpool Post
and Mercury</i>, 13/09/1916</span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The most human of romances that have been written about
the war.</span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;">~</span><i>Punch</i><span style="font-style: normal;">,
quoted in newspaper ad of 09/10/1916</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Wonderfully fresh and amusing.</span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;">~</span><i>Westminster
Gazette</i><span style="font-style: normal;">, quoted in newspaper ad
of 09/10/1916</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Mr Benson's masterpiece.</span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;">~</span><i>Evening
Standard</i><span style="font-style: normal;">, quoted in newspaper ad
of 09/10/1916</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">It is not easy in times such as these to imagine a much
more trying lot than that of those whose sympathies are in any great
measure divided between two of the combatant nations by ties of
parentage, association, or marriage. Such a case it is, or rather
two such cases ~ for brother and sister are alike involved ~ that Mr
Benson brings us to contemplate. But that problem arises only in the
later stages of his story; in the earlier it is another case of
divided allegiance, that of a son called on to decide between dutiful
loyalty to a father's wishes and the sacrifice of his own feelings on
the one hand, and on the other the assertion of his right to live his
own life. Mr Benson has in this part taken care that our sympathies
shall be on the right side, for he has presented his hero in most
pleasing colours, as he has every right to do, and then, as if that
were not enough, he has sought to strengthen his case by representing
the father as an egregious ass and snob, self-centred, domineering, a
repulsive blend of self-important arrogance and pompous fatuity. And
just as we feel compelled to quarrel with his Lord Ashbridge, so do
we think he has erred in overdoing the ineptness of his Lady
Ashbridge and also of Mrs Falbe, who was also 'one of us'. Not even
the pathetic picture that comes later of Michael's touching devotion
to his mother can atone for the vacuousness of the initial portrait.
Lady Barbara, on the other hand, with her brisk and healthy vigour,
her since and humorous kindliness, is excellently drawn, though the
author puts an unnecessary strain on our credence when he makes her
husband ambassador. He makes a similar mistake, to our mind, in the
last scene but one of his novel. But the main material of the story
is excellent; the tracing of Michael's musical development is well
done; his devotion to Germany, the genuine outcome of his debt to
her, the fortnight at Bayreuth and Munich, with its revelation that
“Germany was music,” the awakening of his own powers under the
stimulus and skilful guidance of Hermann and Sylvia Falbe. And it is
well also that some among us should be reminded that the patriotism
of the German is in itself a deep-rooted and an ennobling thing.
“Scratch a German,” says Hermann, “and you find two things ~ a
sentimentalist and a soldier.”</span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;">~</span><i>The
Birmingham Daily Post</i><span style="font-style: normal;">,
11/10/1916</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">A story of music,
love, and the war. Well written, sometimes even delightfully written.
The ending has a situation of grievous distress, but joined to it is
the triumph of faith and love.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;">~</span><i>The Outlook</i><span style="font-style: normal;">
(US), 28/02/1917</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">In
</span><i>Michael</i><span style="font-style: normal;"> Mr. E. F.
Benson shows himself, as always, a very capable storyteller with no
genius to disarrange his neat workmanship. One habit of his he does
not outgrow, which seems to me a bad habit from the point of view of
workmanship: his habit of diffuse and repetitious dialogue. When two
or three of his people get to talking, we may be sure they will use
ten pages to say what a playwright would make them say in ten lines.
But there are readers who like this sort of garrulity</span> (witness the
amazingly large constituency of Miss Ellen Glasgow), and no doubt
they are readers to whom the general ingenuousness of Mr. Benson
appeals. The Michael of this book is an English lord, very ugly and
sincere, who tires of being a Guardsman and determines to devote
himself to music. His father, the Earl of Ashbridge, is as highly
coloured a caricature of the British aristocrat as has ever appeared
on any stage. He is a snob, a martinet, a self-conscious ass, a
person with no dignity of character or conduct: certainly not a
gentleman. Well, of course he forbids Michael his music and orders
him back into the Guards. Luckily the young man's grandmother has
left him plenty of money. He
sets forth for Baireuth and Munich, as the first stages of his
musical journey, and falls in with a young Falbe, a brilliant
musician and pianist who is to be Michael's master and friend. Falbe
is half German, half English; but his German paternity determines his
allegiance when the test comes. In his companionship and that of his
sister Sylvia, a singer, Michael quickly finds himself. Almost at
once he shows ability as pianist and composer. Friendship also comes
to him, and love in the person of the beautiful Sylvia. So we have
our situation. Meanwhile there have been tremblings of the earth, and
suddenly the tempest of the war breaks forth. Falbe becomes all
German, Michael all English, and poor Sylvia is torn between. Thus we
are worked up to our catastrophe in the form of a chance encounter in
the trenches between Michael and Falbe... Michael shoots and kills
his friend, not recognising him until-the thing is done. The slayer
returns to England wounded, and Sylvia must be told. Here, evidently,
is a 'big scene' at hand. It is well, no doubt that Mr. Benson should
not have laboured it, but he somehow fails to make anything of it at
all. Michael tells the girl he has killed her brother, bursts into
tears, and she tells him it is all right. The fact is, Mr. Benson's
field is that of a mild social comedy, and his efforts at dramatic
intensity of mood are inadequate to the verge of banality. To a
point, there is characterisation here-—Michael seems real, the
Falbes seem real, despite their association with that man of straw
the Earl; but the action in which they are involved fails to come
home to us the moment it attempts the heroic plane.</span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;">~H. W. Boynton in </span><i>The
Bookman </i>(US), 03/1917</span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">E. F. Benson has followed the lead of several English
novelists by including in his newest book, <i>Michael</i>, just
published by the George H Doran Company, a 'full-length description'
of the German Kaiser. Benson's hero, Michael, is a young Englishman
with a talent for the piano. The story opens before the war, and
Michael journeys to Munich, where he hears <i>Tristan</i> at the
Hof-Theatre. The Emperor is in the city, and having several years
before been the personal guest of Michael's distinguished father in
England, invites the young man to sit in the Imperial box with him.
Benson's description of the Kaiser is interesting.</span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">~<i>The Evening Post</i> [Wellington, New Zealand],
28/04/1917</span></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
Ewiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01925901182655242694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-845353778010200403.post-206255144455766602015-04-05T17:30:00.000+01:002015-04-09T18:33:05.494+01:00The Osbornes<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>Fiction ~ novel</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>Published October(?) 1910</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>Previously serialized in <i>The Cornhill Magazine</i>, July 1909 - about May 1910</b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>(First read 05/04/2015) </b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QbL9GGnVtXk/VG4lP6rmfiI/AAAAAAAABfk/JiAht1Yix58/s1600/The%2BOsbornes.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QbL9GGnVtXk/VG4lP6rmfiI/AAAAAAAABfk/JiAht1Yix58/s1600/The%2BOsbornes.jpg" height="320" width="211" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"></span><br />Ewiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01925901182655242694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-845353778010200403.post-57005973394519139412015-02-26T17:20:00.000+00:002015-04-09T19:50:45.803+01:00The Kaiser and English Relations<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BpoqpMXbAk4/VG4i7mHickI/AAAAAAAABew/WkR_esbxfQc/s1600/The%2BKaiser%2Band%2BEnglish%2BRelations.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-BpoqpMXbAk4/VG4i7mHickI/AAAAAAAABew/WkR_esbxfQc/s1600/The%2BKaiser%2Band%2BEnglish%2BRelations.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>Non-fiction ~ current(ish) affairs</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>Published 19th October 1936</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>(First read 26/02/2015) </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b><u>REVIEWS</u></b></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>
</b></span></span>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">[…] ingenious […]
The book is a very skilful mosaic of the vast amount written or
spoken by William, his majestic grandmother Queen Victoria, and his
brilliant mother the Empress Frederick, largely made possible by the
fact that the letters and papers of the Empress and of her husband,
the unlucky Frederick, Emperor for but ninety-eight days, were
smuggled out of Germany and deposited safely in this country. <i>[The
remainder of this very long review is basically nothing but
quotations from the book.]</i></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">~<i>Aberdeen Press
and Journal</i>, 19/10/1936</span></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EoCQeJm5voc/VSbIX8bET2I/AAAAAAAABvw/sSz8AwSmeUc/s1600/princeofprussiaopener.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-EoCQeJm5voc/VSbIX8bET2I/AAAAAAAABvw/sSz8AwSmeUc/s1600/princeofprussiaopener.jpg" height="320" width="220" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Before he was kaiser</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">Mr Benson is
brilliant and finished. Also, he has found the key to the
tortuosities of the Kaiser's foreign policy. That monarch's ultimate
intention ~ as is pretty generally admitted to-day ~ were pacific.
But, like Polonius, he preferred with indirections to find directions
out. If he wished for friendly relations with B, a straightforward
advance was not enough: it was necessary first to embroil B with C,
then to point out to the former how ill he stood with the latter, and
thus to let him reach the conclusion that to meet the German advances
would be best for 'wretched, meritorious B'.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
</span></span><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">[Unlike his
subject, Mr Benson is a realist: he has] attempted, successfully, to
pronounce a just verdict. [He] has resisted the temptation of making
the ex-Kaiser into a blundering buffoon, a monster of tactlessness;
and has shown that his uncle, for example, contributed his share to
the friction between these two kinsmen.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
</span></span><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">~W H Johnston in an
article titled <i>Kaiser and Field-Marshal</i>, which was a joint
review of EFB's book and of <i>Hindenburg: The Wooden Titan</i> by J
W Wheeler-Bennett. Published in <i>The Yorkshire Post</i>,
21/10/1936</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">M</span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">r.</span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">
E. F. BENSON, who thoroughly knows his way about the many volumes of
royal correspondence published since </span></span></span>the
War, has used them, together with a few other familiar sources, to
put together this slight but agreeable study of relations between the
ex-Kaiser William II and our own royal family. The volume begins with
the marriage of Queen Victoria's eldest daughter to the Crown Prince
Frederick, heir to the Prussian throne; and it leaves the eldest son
of that marriage in his house of exile to Doom, preparing to read the
Sunday morning service to his attenuated suite, and wondering (Mr.
Benson, be it said to his credit, does not often indulge in these
tricks of fictionised biography) "why it had all happened like
this."</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
</span></span><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">So dramatic a story, told by a
practised craftsman like Mr. Benson, cannot fail to interest and
entertain, even though the facts on which it is based are well enough
known to every reader of pre-War history. But the story would have
been better still if Mr. Benson had been able to conjure up a little
human interest in his central figure. William II was not a great or a
wise monarch. He was impulsive where caution was needed, bombastic in
utterance, tactless and sometimes sly in his dealings with foreign
monarchs and Governments, and easily rattled in moments of crisis.
But constant insistence on these defects of his hero's character
makes Mr. Benson's book smack a little too much of the atmosphere of
war propaganda. Mr. Benson is well aware, as many passages show, that
the Princess Frederick was a difficult mother. But this is not
allowed to mitigate by one jot the indictment of William as a
difficult son. The relations between Edward VII as Prince of Wales
and William II show both of them in anything but a favourable light.
The fact that the Prince was the uncle and the Emperor the nephew
obviously made the relationship delicate and embarrassing and is, in
itself, almost sufficient to account for the chronic antipathy
between them. But here again Mr. Benson, while not <span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">particularly
flattering to the Prince, loses no opportunity of pressing home the
case against, the Kaiser.</span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
</span></span><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">More important, however, than these
petty personal issues is the question how far the course of history
was affected by the constant correspondence and the frequent family
meetings between royal personages which were characteristic of the
half century before the War. Much has been written and talked in the
past few years about the foreign peregrinations of British
politicians. It is not generally remembered that the place of these
personal discussions between Prime Ministers and Foreign Secretaries
was in part taken before the War by the regular intercourse between
crowned heads of States (who, for important meetings, were often
accompanied by Ministers). These meetings were, of course, habitually
used for the transaction of political business. But were they a
governing factor of policy or merely its instrument? Was the notable
falling off in such meetings in the few years immediately before the
War a cause, or a symptom, of the impending <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AW1yfSKSjkE/VSbI0PTyelI/AAAAAAAABv4/YAPfEKZsStk/s1600/Wilhelm_II%2C_German_Emperor%2C_by_Russell_%26_Sons%2C_c1890.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-AW1yfSKSjkE/VSbI0PTyelI/AAAAAAAABv4/YAPfEKZsStk/s1600/Wilhelm_II%2C_German_Emperor%2C_by_Russell_%26_Sons%2C_c1890.jpg" height="320" width="227" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The newish kaiser (1890)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
catastrophe? Mr. Benson's
book, in so far as it makes any contribution to this historical
problem, confirms the impression that all this personal intercourse
between royal relations, despite the immense importance attached to
it by its participants, had little decisive influence on the course
of events. Neither Willy nor Nicky deflected the policy of his
country by a single inch in the interest of friendship or cousinship
with the other; and it would be fantastic to attribute to the
temperamental incompatibility of William II and Edward VII any
determining <i>rôle</i> in the deterioration of Anglo-German
relations. There is no ground for suggesting that French interests
were penalised because France had no crowned head to hobnob with
royal cousins from other leading European countries. The Tsar of all
the Russias found no difficulty about allying his country with a
republic, and receiving on equal terms a President in a silk hat and
boiled shirt; and the picture of Queen Victoria consenting, albeit
with reluctance, to stand while the Marseillaise was played suggests
an irreverent comparison with M. Litvinov proposing the health of
King George V. When important interests of foreign policy were at
stake, the principles of the International of Monarchs went by the
board as easily as the principles of the Third International.</span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">~E. H. Carr in <i>The
Spectator</i>, 30/10/1936</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></span>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">The Benson name will
stimulate interest in this though it is unlikely to achieve the sales
of his English subjects. But for anyone interested in the
international picture, the psychological aspects of the
German-English relations, this is important, and a story that bears
close reading, as written by an author whose integrity in stating
problems and facts differs openly on many points with previous
writers. [He] Covers the Kaiser's life, from a sensitive, tragic
boyhood, to his present retirement in Holland. [He] Stresses the
atmosphere of hostility between England and America at his birth,
fostered by the unpopularity of his English mother. Essential for
public libraries and colleges. </span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
</span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">~<i>Kirkus Reviews</i>,
10/11/1936</span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
</span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc3"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc4"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc5"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc64"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc73"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc85"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc94"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc101"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc111"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc125"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc137"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc142"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc152"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc162"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc172"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc182"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc192"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc201"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc212"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc222"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc231"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc242"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc252"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc262"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc271"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc282"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc292"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc301"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc311"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc322"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc331"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc342"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc352"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc361"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc372"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc381"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc391"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc402"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc412"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc421"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc431"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc44"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc451"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc461"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc471"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc481"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc491"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc501"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc511"></a>
Mr. E. F. Benson's
biographical study of Queen Victoria and King Edward VII has well
fitted him for writing on <i>The Kaiser and English Relations</i>,
for the story of William's relations with England is largely the
story of attempts by his English relatives, wiser than he, to keep
him in check. William, the grandson of Victoria, is a sort of Richard
III of Germany ~ a deformed, ambitious, unbalanced schemer, who lived
to be cursed by his own mother and to be morally execrated by his own
countrymen. These freaks occur in history. There was nothing in
William's parentage to suggest such a creature. His father was an
eminently upright man, without any egotism or desire for
self-advancement; his mother an amiable woman, who did her best to
promote the friendship of England and Germany. Yet their eldest son
grew up to trample on them and exult at his father's death, to ally
himself with Bismarck, who systematically humiliated them while the
old Emperor lived, and to overthrow all their good works. Mr. Benson
explains this degeneration from type as due to the accidents of
William's childhood ~ the paralysed arm and consequent physical
weakness, his harsh schooling that set up in him an inferiority
complex, and so led him to assert himself at all costs. At heart, Mr.
Benson maintains, he was a sheer coward, and even in his most
grandiose and blatantly truculent moments trembled inwardly for <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NX4CWI95_e4/VSbJVEYVwXI/AAAAAAAABwE/72tlY-f_Ngg/s1600/Kaiser_Wilhelm_II.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NX4CWI95_e4/VSbJVEYVwXI/AAAAAAAABwE/72tlY-f_Ngg/s1600/Kaiser_Wilhelm_II.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A bit later ...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
the
consequences of his words and actions. Then, too, he had no judgment,
no common sense, no self-restraint. He would commit the silliest
errors, and endeavour to escape responsibility by denying them. Time
and again Mr. Benson catches him out on his own words. By setting a
passage from an authentic letter alongside a passage from the
Kaiser's own memoirs, adding the testimony of others, he is able to
show what a pitiful liar the man was. Altogether, Victoria, and after
her, Edward, had a bad time of it holding in this blustering,
irresponsible kinsman. Several times ~ over the Boer War, at Tangier,
at Agadir ~ he nearly precipitated a crisis; luckily, the wise
monarch of England never lost his or her head over it.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
</span></span><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc521"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc531"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc541"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc55"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc561"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc571"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc581"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc591"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc60"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc611"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc621"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc631"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc641"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc651"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc66"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc671"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc681"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc691"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc70"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc711"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc721"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc731"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc741"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc751"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc761"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc77"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc781"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc791"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc801"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc811"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc821"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc831"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc841"></a><a href="https://www.blogger.com/null" name="lc851"></a>
William's grand delusion ~ again to be attributed to that ingrained
conviction of personal inferiority ~ was the 'encirclement' of
Germany by the other European Powers, so he was constantly intriguing
~ you never knew where to have him. He would write warning Victoria
against the designs of Russia; at the same time he would be showering
his blandishments on the Csar. He never really hated England, <span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Mr.
Benson shows how deep-seated his love of that country was, and how
genuinely he longed for a permanent alliance with her. He was
inordinately proud of the tincture of Stuart blood in his veins,
swelled </span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">i</span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">n
glory when Victoria made </span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">hi</span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">m
</span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">a</span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">n
Admiral of the Fleet, touched the sky when she bestowed on him a
colonelcy in an English regiment. All this strengt</span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">h</span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">ened
his position </span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">i</span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">n
England, but h</span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">is</span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">
personal behaviour at the same time made </span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">i</span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">t
impossible. He was persistently rude to Edward, as Prince and King </span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">~
</span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">he
even flouted Victoria. When the armaments competition began, through
his mad ambition to control the Atlantic, the inevitable conflict wa</span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">s</span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">
definitely envisaged, and when it came it </span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">was</span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">
a relief to the Kaiser, as it must have been to English statesmen who
had long despaired of holding such a trouble-maker </span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">i</span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">n
check. It was then that his many wild utterances began to be
remembered against him </span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">~
</span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">the
</span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">'</span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">mailed
fist,</span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">'</span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">
the adjuration to Germans to be Huns, etc. He found himself regarded
as a dangerous lunatic. </span></span></span></span></span>
</div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
</span></span><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Mr.
Benson </span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">i</span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">s
more </span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">i</span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">mpartial,
even </span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">~
</span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">for
all his gentle but crushing irony </span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">~
</span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">sympathetic
with William in some of his moods. In spite of his bloodthirst</span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">i</span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">ness,
William had genuine artistic taste and ability, and to his friends he
was a pleasant companion. The final verdict is, however, quite just.
"Destiny </span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">h</span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">ad
been cruel in ordaining that a man of his temper and temperament
should be emperor of a great nation. Throughout his reign he had
never shown any grasp of the serious responsibilities of kingship,
never once, for all his sincere patriotism, had he rende</span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">r</span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">ed
any true service to his country, nor ever had he failed to use his
great abilities in the cause of European disquiet. Save for those
moments of hysterical exaltation when some impetuous and </span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">i</span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">mprudent
impromptu had satiated his craving for imperial gestures, he had been
the prey of fear and </span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">j</span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">ealousy
and deep-seated s</span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">el</span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">f-mi</span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">s</span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">trust.
. . . </span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">If</span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">
only </span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">P</span></span></span><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">rovidence
had consecrated him to be a squire of ample </span></span></span>means
and estate, just outside some county town in England, what a pleasant
and useful existence might have been his! ... " As it is, the
Squire of Doorn has found almost his right level. </span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">~<i>The Sydney Morning Herald</i><span style="font-style: normal;">,
28/11/1936</span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
</span><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
</span></span><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>
</b></span></span>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AbLx6em98xU/VSbJq8rprcI/AAAAAAAABwM/_Uu426qMGoM/s1600/kaiser_wilhelm-newspaper-article_421.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-AbLx6em98xU/VSbJq8rprcI/AAAAAAAABwM/_Uu426qMGoM/s1600/kaiser_wilhelm-newspaper-article_421.jpg" height="320" width="226" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After the invention of colour</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">Kaiser William
possessed in a high degree all those characteristics which least
recommend themselves to the British. He manifested on every occasion
tendencies which in English preparatory and public schools are given
disobliging names and systematically extirpated. Sneaking, swanking
and bullying, that triple anathema of the Lower Fourth, figured
strongly in his repertoire. When thwarted, he bit no bullets, but
shouted and stamped and swore. When pleased, he gave way to
extravagant displays of emotion. Really, thought grandmama Victoria,
looking round on the family circle of crowned and coroneted
Coburgers, Willy was the naughtiest boy in Europe.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">Much of the bitterness has passed from the minds of those who in
the strained atmosphere of 1918 were ready to shout "Hang the
Kaiser ! " But the impression remains that William was something
of an ass and something of a cad ; there is an unpleasant edge to the
laughter which greets his appearance in back numbers of Punch—a
journal for the suppression of which he once pleaded, eagerly but in
vain. It is therefore the more satisfactory that a writer such as Mr.
Benson should have undertaken to present the Kaiser in his most
difficult, most pathetic aspect. For there is no malice in Mr.
Benson's pen, nor is he liable to sentimental extenuations. Using the
best and sanest method of psychological approach, he has substituted
a human being for the pompous and fantastic lay-figure. The Kaiser
and English Relations leaves no room for ens.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">Much importance is given to the deformity which handicapped
William from birth, the torn left shoulder which made riding so
difficult for him, though he strove so pluckily and so successfully
to overcome the disability. To this can be traced the overwhelming
sense of inferiority for which his tasteless and fatuous arrogance
and sabre-rattling were a perpetual compensation. This mental
condition of insecurity and instability in turn gave rise to
suspicion and jealousy, to dread of "encirclement," to a
conviction that only in the unassailable superiority of German arms
could he place his trust.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">Such was the man who sent the Kruger telegram, who landed—' 'a
reluctant and timorous Mephistopheles"—at Tangier, and
sanctioned the despatch of the Panther to Agadir. They are singularly
futile, singularly irresponsible gestures. The whole of William's
foreign policy was of the same order ; it seemed to have been
conceived by a destructive child. His ambition was to break down the
mutual confidence of other nations rather than to construct alliances
for his own. Herein lay the difference between William and Edward
VII. He always hated Uncle Bertie, whose genial friendliness revealed
a poise which his own twisted nature could never hope to achieve. Mr.
Benson ably contrasts the manner and method of the two sovereigns :
"Each of them claimed exclusive rights of political cruising,
and regarded the other as invariably engaged, under the pretext of a
recuperative holiday, with sinister designs. The King's method on
these excursions was very different from his nephew's ; his visits to
any country were intended to promote cordial relations by his jollity
and geniality ; the Emperor's, by a display of majesty and giants, to
typify the might of Germany and to sow suspicions in his host's mind
as to the sincerity of some country with which he had friendly
relations."</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">William always had a sincere affection for his grandmother, Queen
Victoria. She understood him. "William's faults," she told
Edward, "come from impetuousness (as well as conceit) ; and
calmness and firmness are the most powerful weapons in such a case."
Calmly and firmly she dealt with his most outrageous actions, writing
to him after the Kruger incident the famous letter which ends : "I
hope you will take my remarks in good part, as they are entirely
dictated by my desire for your good. Victoria R.I." ; and to the
Tsar the letter which, in the same level tones, shattered the
intrigue known as the Willy-Nicky correspondence.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
</span></span><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">As he loved the Queen, so William loved England. It was a love
which England could neither understand nor repay, but years later, at
Doorn, when the tragedy of the War had separated him from England for
ever, it was still alive. In a penetrating and sympathetic epilogue,
Mr. Benson makes us aware of this. "Hate without such furnace of
underlying longing can never remain molten," he writes. If hate
is the feeling with which Kaiser William's name is most readily
associated in English minds, we should remember it is hate based on
rejection.</span></span><br />
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">~<i>The Tablet</i>,
12/12/1936</span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
</div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_QxwrBJmz6g/VSbJ8Jrx9iI/AAAAAAAABwU/8kRCuX5MR1s/s1600/Bundesarchiv_Bild_136-C0804%2C_Kaiser_Wilhelm_II._im_Exil.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_QxwrBJmz6g/VSbJ8Jrx9iI/AAAAAAAABwU/8kRCuX5MR1s/s1600/Bundesarchiv_Bild_136-C0804%2C_Kaiser_Wilhelm_II._im_Exil.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">An emperor in exile</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">There is a charming
picture, at the beginning of this vivid new biography, of Victoria,
Princess Royal of England, receiving ~ by the management of her
parents ~ a proposal of marriage from Prince Frederick William of
Prussia, before she was fifteen. The desire of Queen Victoria and
the Prince Consort for a growing friendliness between Germany and
England, however, received small help from the union, for the young
bride ~ English in Prussia and Prussian in England ~ was not liked by
Bismarck. To that stern Chancellor her eldest son, William ~
psychologically as well as physically injured at birth ~ was strongly
drawn. William's nature was hardened but not strengthened by his
disability. The inferiority complex which it caused grew into a
love, as extravagant as any Oriental's, of the superficial trappings
of power. Greedy for uniforms and spectacles, self-deluding,
screwing himself to dismiss Bismarck because that mighty shadow
dwarfed his own, his lact act at the outbreak of the Great War is
entirely in character ~ the resigning of his English military and
naval rank. A grand study of the man, his relations, and his
surroundings, which cannot but enhance Mr Benson's already high
reputation.</span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">~</span><i>Western
Daily Press and Bristol Mirror</i><span style="font-style: normal;">,
02/01/1937</span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
</span></span><div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">The interesting
thing to note in this book is that the biographer of Queen Victoria
and Edward VII writes critically
not only of the kaiser but of the kaiser's English relations, his
mother who was Victoria's daughter, and his uncle Edward VII. There
is an apparent disillusioned note in this new book by the former
apologist for royalty.</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
</span></span><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">~<i>The New Masses</i>,
12/01/1937</span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
</span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">A chatty,
superficial and inaccurate record.</span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
</span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">~Dr. G. P. Gooch in
<i>Notes on New Books</i>, 1937? <i>[Haha ~ don't dress it up, mate!]</i></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i>The Kaiser and English Relations</i><span style="font-style: normal;">
caused [Benson] some bother, as he had originally had 'William II' in
the title, and referred throughout the text to 'the Emperor'. His
publishers maintained that the reader would be confused into thinking
that 'William II' referred to a different emperor from the one
everybody referred to as the Kaiser. Fred did not think this at all
reasonable. “The mentality of anyone who maintains that the title
'The Kaiser' connotes William II, but that the title 'William II'
connotes somebody else, is, frankly, outside my comprehension.”
Nevertheless, he was overruled and his title amended.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">
</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-style: normal;">~Brian
Masters in </span><i>The Life of E. F. Benson</i><span style="font-style: normal;">,
1991</span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
</span></span><div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
</span></span><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
</span></span><div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<br /></div>
<br />
Ewiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01925901182655242694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-845353778010200403.post-49521657519457764522015-02-13T19:08:00.000+00:002015-03-01T19:20:18.084+00:00The Everlasting Silence<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cXm0M5DwI7M/VPNl4eLXKzI/AAAAAAAABuU/-8qoNpb27x4/s1600/sphinx4b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-cXm0M5DwI7M/VPNl4eLXKzI/AAAAAAAABuU/-8qoNpb27x4/s1600/sphinx4b.jpg" height="320" width="279" /></a></div>
<b>Fiction, <i>kind of</i> ~ short story <span style="font-size: x-small;">or prose poem <i><span style="font-size: xx-small;">or something</span></i></span></b><br />
<b>First published in <i>Lady's Realm</i>, January 1898</b><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>Collected in <i>Sea Mist</i>, 2005 </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>(First read 13/02/2015)</b></span><br />
<br />
<br />
The story ~ such as it is ~ goes something like this: before God created Eve to keep Adam occupied, his best pal was ... <span style="font-size: x-small;">erm</span> ... a thing called Silence, and the pair of them had a whale of a time together. Now Eve, being a woman like what she was, <i>talked</i>, and Silence didn't like this, so took umbrage ... <span style="font-size: x-small;">or something</span> ... then spent the next few thousand years observing the Sons of Adam and their wicked ways ... until ...<span style="font-size: x-small;"> erm</span> ... did I mention that Silence looked rather like the Sphinx? ... or may actually have <i>been</i> the Sphinx? ... well anyway, the centuries passed and Silence carried on with his dudgeon, then one day he was dug up ~ <i>okay that's enough ...</i><br />
What to make of this muddy twaddle? what can the gentle readers of <i>Lady's Realm</i> have made of it in 1898? what is the point of it? what was EFB thinking?<i> </i>Perhaps it's best just to draw a veil of silence over it ...<i><br /></i>Ewiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01925901182655242694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-845353778010200403.post-79759918858596962892015-02-05T19:13:00.000+00:002015-03-04T19:15:01.709+00:00The King and His Reign VII: Aftermath<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2QWOyCp4_sQ/VPdZIf_-YOI/AAAAAAAABvQ/Xy9_5z5K2q4/s1600/Bundesarchiv_Bild_102-00104%2C_Inflation%2C_Tapezieren_mit_Geldscheinen.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2QWOyCp4_sQ/VPdZIf_-YOI/AAAAAAAABvQ/Xy9_5z5K2q4/s1600/Bundesarchiv_Bild_102-00104%2C_Inflation%2C_Tapezieren_mit_Geldscheinen.jpg" height="320" width="234" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Post-War German hyper-inflation</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>Non-fiction ~ article</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>Published in <i>The Spectator</i>, 5th April 1935</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>1,200 words</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>(First read 05/02/2015)</b></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Benson<b> </b>talks about the brief period of euphoria following the end of the First World War, which was so soon followed by the realization that the whole sorry, miserable, wretched, calamitous affair had really benefited precisely no-one. The affair was estimated to have cost (max.) a truly stupendous £66,000,000,000 [sixty-six billion pounds], in today's money around £1,400,000,000,000 [erm, is that 1.4 trillion? not sure]. Depressing stuff.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Anyway, it's available <a href="http://archive.spectator.co.uk/article/5th-april-1935/8/the-king-and-his-reign-vii-aftermath" target="_blank">online here</a>.</span>Ewiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01925901182655242694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-845353778010200403.post-30121007650271981962015-02-03T18:45:00.000+00:002015-03-04T18:46:44.386+00:00The King and His Reign VI: The War<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-labzNoc7K9s/VPdRwUYvU7I/AAAAAAAABvA/JpcQ1DZuH88/s1600/QM%2Bvisits%2BEFB.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-labzNoc7K9s/VPdRwUYvU7I/AAAAAAAABvA/JpcQ1DZuH88/s1600/QM%2Bvisits%2BEFB.png" height="246" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Queen Mary seems to curtsey before EFB*</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>Non-fiction ~ essay</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>Published in <i>The Spectator</i>, 29th March 1935</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>1,450 words</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>(First read 03/02/2015)</b></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Benson has nothing but praise for the King's record during the First World War, coming pretty close to defining what he considered the True and Perfect English Gentleman: a man who conducted himself always with quiet, sober dignity and compassion, with the minimum of pomp and fuss (unlike that shocking Kaiser-cousin of his!), etc. Also singled out for encomiums are the King's mother (Queen Alexandra), wife (Queen Mary), and even his son the Prince of Wales (later Edward VIII). The essay's emphasis is definitely on the royal family here, though there's stuff about the war itself too.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">The article is available <a href="http://archive.spectator.co.uk/article/29th-march-1935/8/the-king-and-his-reign-vi-war" target="_blank">online here</a>.<b> </b></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">* Benson was visited by Queen Mary at Lamb House (Rye) on 11th March 1935 ~ "I was in the area, y'know" ~ about three weeks before this article was published. I daresay he spent the entire visit trying to divert her attention away from his collection of antique silverware, notorious kleptomaniac that she was.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">She's not <i>really</i> curtseying to him in the photo, by the way.</span></span>Ewiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01925901182655242694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-845353778010200403.post-79266416110803328742015-01-27T19:15:00.001+00:002021-11-16T12:30:14.615+00:00Peter<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>Fiction ~ novel</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>Published 4th March 1922</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>(First read 27/01/2015) </b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">As I said in my recent post on <i>Limitations</i> (1896), no matter how bad the E F Benson novel, and no matter how bad my ~ or other folk's ~ reviews might make them sound, I can almost always find <i>something</i> good to say about them, and do generally enjoy them, even if only masochistically. They may have ropey or downright idiotic plots, be stuffed with loathable cardboard-cutout characters, feature reams of guff about Art or Music or Ancient Greece, contain dodgy, clumsy writing, or a mixture of these, but there's usually <i>some</i> redeeming feature. <i>Limitations</i> was the exception to this rule¹; <i>Peter</i> isn't.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Yes the plot's hackneyed ~ even EFB has done it before, in <i>[I can't for the life of me remember which one ... it's the one where the spare wheel smoothes everything over for the hero and heroine by walking off a cliff]</i> ~ 'poor' boy marries rich girl; other girl threatens to ruin everything; all turns out well in the end. Yes the heroine is your stereotypical Bensonian 'saint'. Yes the whole thing lacks any kind of drive or tension. [in progress]</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">¹ <i>Scarlet and Hyssop</i> came extremely close. </span></span>Ewiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01925901182655242694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-845353778010200403.post-9587226960034870092015-01-07T18:51:00.000+00:002015-01-27T18:53:58.373+00:00The King and His Reign V: 1914<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Vwgj70tqWLQ/VMfd8BcBPhI/AAAAAAAABt8/vH6V9N36wk4/s1600/Postcard_for_the_assassination_of_Archduke_Franz_Ferdinand_in_Sarajevo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Vwgj70tqWLQ/VMfd8BcBPhI/AAAAAAAABt8/vH6V9N36wk4/s1600/Postcard_for_the_assassination_of_Archduke_Franz_Ferdinand_in_Sarajevo.jpg" height="204" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Mr & Mrs Franz Ferdinand shortly before their murder</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>Published in <i>The Spectator</i>, 22nd March 1935</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>1,420 words</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>(First read 07/01/2015*)</b></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Benson narrates in some detail the circumstances that led to the outbreak of the First World War, though obviously not in as much detail as he'd already done in his somewhat-late-in-the-day book <i>The Outbreak of War 1914</i> (1933!). It's fairly interesting if you're fairly interested in the role that the British sovereign played ~ or didn't play ~ in the business.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">As a great fan of the Forgotten People of History I'd like to pay tribute to EFB for remembering to mention the Austrian <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Archduke_Franz_Ferdinand_of_Austria" target="_blank">Archduke Franz Ferdinand</a>'s <i>wife</i>, the poor old <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sophie,_Duchess_of_Hohenberg" target="_blank">Duchess of Hohenberg</a> <i>[who?!]</i>, who was gunned down with him at Sarajevo on 28th June 1914.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">You can read the article <a href="http://archive.spectator.co.uk/article/22nd-march-1935/8/the-king-and-his-reign-v-1914" target="_blank">online here</a>.</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">* Yes, I do realize I'm reading these in a somewhat haphazard order.</span></span>Ewiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01925901182655242694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-845353778010200403.post-32205213727658936682015-01-03T19:37:00.000+00:002015-01-27T19:14:46.189+00:00Limitations<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_q-xGaubKKs/U1_w7MXWG7I/AAAAAAAAA2E/EffjLVDXXN8/s1600/Limitations.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_q-xGaubKKs/U1_w7MXWG7I/AAAAAAAAA2E/EffjLVDXXN8/s1600/Limitations.JPG" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>Fiction ~ novel</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>First published in book form October 1896</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>(previously serialized in <i>Temple Bar</i> magazine, April-October 1896)</b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;">(First read 03/01/2015)</span> </b></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><i>Limitations</i> is the story of a rich young man who, on a trip to Greece ~ <i>yawn</i>, decides to become an Artist ~ <i>yawn</i>. Not for him the shocking modernity of Art Nouveau or even anything a <i>bit </i>more old-hatteau than that: he decides to be a sculptor in the Ancient Greek style ~ <i>yawn</i>. Along the way he falls in love with and marries a young woman who either is or isn't suitable for him, depending on how you look at these things ~ she's about as interested in Greek art as <i>I</i> am <i>~ yawn</i>. By doing this he shoves some other young woman's nose out ~ <i>yawn</i>. Then by one of those curious Bensonian plot twists (by which I mean that they <u>only</u> seem to happen in EFB novels) he becomes 'poor' ~ <i>yawn </i>¹, so he's forced to jettison his Artistic Ideals² and become 'commercial' ~ <i>yawn</i>. And he lives glumly ever after. <b><i>Yawn</i></b>.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">If I've made the novel sound dull, that's because it <i>is</i> dull ~ it's fearfully dull, narcoleptically dull, calamitously dull <span style="font-size: x-small;">(etc.)</span>. I can usually find <i>something</i> good to say about Fred's novels; in this case I can't.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>The whole sorry thing is available <a href="http://catalog.hathitrust.org/Record/008664178" target="_blank">online here.</a></b></span> </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">¹ As an indicator of how 'poor' he and his wife become, they're reduced to just the one maid and one nurse for their baby. </span> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">² All these capitals are ironic, by the way.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b><br /><a href="http://catalog.hathitrust.org/Record/008664178" target="_blank"></a></b></span>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><u><b>THE CRITICS</b></u></span></span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The son of a rich
man, Mr Carlingford, is about to return to Cambridge for his third
year. Tom Carlingford and his father have a chat on the eve of the
departure. Says the father:</span></span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> “There is only
one thing I should object to, and that is if you made a fool of yourself. Don't do
that, Tom. Many people, when they make fools of themselves, think that
they are doing what nine-tenths of the human race have</span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> done since the
beginning of the world. More than nine-tenths, probably. Adam</span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> and Eve both made
fools of themselves; so did Cain and Abel ~ Abel particu-</span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> larly.” … “One
can make a fool of oneself at Cambridge, if it comes to that,”</span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> says Tom. “No,
not very easily. Public opinion is against it, whereas in most</span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> places the fools
themselves constitute public opinion. … Folly's quite the</span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> worst investment
you can make. … There are no such things as bruties: there</span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> are only wise men
and fools ~ chiefly fools. … The best preparation is to lead</span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> a healthy life and
think about cricket.”</span></span></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">And so the
conversation rattles on. The tale, <i>Limitations</i>, is by Mr E.
F. Benson, son of the Archbishop of Canterbury, and appears in <i>Temple
Bar</i>. It sparkles as well as interests. Whether Mr Carlingford
would admit that Whitechapel has found a brute in the murderer of
poor old Mr Levi and his housekeeper we do not know. Probably he
would say that the exception proves the rule.</span></span></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">~<i>The Cornishman</i>,
09/04/1896. Obviously this is a review of the serialization, not the
complete novel. See also below, 03/12/1896</span></span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Mr
Benson has written an interesting and truly human book. His range is
much wider than it was, his character-drawing has gained in depth,
delicacy and precision; while the sparkling dialogue which we enjoyed
in <i>Dodo</i> has lost none of its old brilliancy.</span></span></span></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">~<i>The
Daily Telegraph</i>, quoted in newspaper ad of 29/10/1896</span></span></span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">It
is so splendidly told. <i>Limitations</i> will stand a good chance
of being the novel of the season.</span></span></span></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">~<i>The
Glasgow Herald</i>, quoted in newspaper ad of 29/10/1896</span></span></span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">The
best that Mr Benson has yet given us.</span></span></span></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">~<i>Westminster
Gazette</i>, quoted in newspaper ad of 29/10/1896</span></span></span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Above
all, there is that incommunicable charm which is the happiest
possession of a novelist and a passport to success.</span></span></span></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">~<i>The
Globe</i>, quoted in newspaper ad of 03/11/1896</span></span></span></div>
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><br /></span>
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span></span></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Mr
Benson has not wholly succeeded in what he has apparently attempted,
namely, defection from his old ideal of the smart-society novel.
<i>Dodo</i> would be sensational and cynical and worldly or nothing;
but since then youth has learned a little, and young blood has grown
older, and life has seemed even unto Mr Benson to be none so humorous
and immaterial and irresponsible as it once appeared. The
consequence is that <i>Limitations</i> is a sad and serious effort
after grave human factors, but not quite to sad and serious as the
author probably intended. If the truth be told, it is least
successful where it most solemn, and more tolerable where it is
merely flippant, like the Mr Benson of yore. The rattle of the
undergraduate Carlingford is quite amusing, and meaningless. The
battle of this same Carlingford with life is merely uninteresting,
and no more convinces us of Mr Benson's genuineness than the
spectacular tragedies of a doll's house. In fine, <i>Limitations</i>
is still written by the undergraduate, the clever undergraduate, who
knows better than any one how much of a favourite he is, and what a
clever dog he is. It is a pity, however, that he should fly at
sentiment, which is always a rank pitfall (if you don't mind broken
figures) for youth and irresponsibility. The essential plot of
<i>Limitations</i> is by no means novel. It is the tragedy of the
artistic life ~ the soaring genius, the drab wife, and the rest. But
we find it very hard to believe in Carlingford's genius. He is a
babbler, 'an agreeable rattle', a University Extension lecturer,
anything but a real artist. Nor are the remaining characters more
persuasive, save the wife herself, who is, to be frank, the only real
character in the novel. They have all the air of artifice, as if
they had never been observed, but were rather constructed out of Mr
Benson's inner consciousness. Now that the dust that <i>Dodo</i>
kicked from fashionable carpets is decently laid with tea-leaves, we
may be permitted to hope that Mr Benson will stick to his craft and
diligently pursue its particulars with a mind unembarrassed by the
glorious but fallacious glitter of an accidental success.</span></span></span></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: #cfe2f3;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">~
<i>Pall Mall Gazette</i>, 17/11/1896</span></span></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">A plotless novel,
strictly a narrative in fiction rather than an exciting story of
action and motive, is the most difficult form of fiction to make
interesting. That Mr E F Benson has succeeded under these conditions
is the high praise we can bestow upon <i>Limitations </i>[…]. The
principal in the story, Tom Carlingford, married the girl he loved,
and another girl who loved him had to refuse a man who passionately
loved her. In the early bliss of his marriage Tom's father was
ruined, and he died with the cynical remark on his lips, “I'm stone
broke, Tom, and it's lucky for you that you learned to break stones.”
Tom was a sculptor for love of the art, and in this sense he was
able to 'break stones' for his bread. There had been plenty of
limitations up till now, but there came one limitation greater still.
For Tom's ambition was to make Greek gods. He tried, and everyone
admired, but no one bought. So he had to make statuettes and pretty
modern things, his genius being limited by modern taste. Happily he
bowed to the inevitable, and earned for the family opulence, if not
wealth. The theme is cleverly worked out, but the charm of the book
is the delightful conversation. There is Maude <i>[sic]</i> Wrexham, the
disappointed one, whose talk justifies Tom in describing her as
experienced, but fresh. It is Maude who says, “Compliments are a
cheap way of paying debts. They are like </span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9l1yzUxdBhk/U1_x-C-EPII/AAAAAAAAA2Q/r0O3MH_29ow/s1600/temple+bar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9l1yzUxdBhk/U1_x-C-EPII/AAAAAAAAA2Q/r0O3MH_29ow/s1600/temple+bar.jpg" height="320" width="265" /></a></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">apologies.” And again,
“If men hadn't professions, they would bore themselves to death.
That is why they take to the Stock Exchange and politics ~ they do
anything to make them forget their own selves. I don't say that
women are any better, but they find themselves more interesting than
men do.” With this sort of conversation we glide agreeably through
the book. But it is not always frivolous. Beneath the cynical
geniality there is seriousness, and there are occasions of pathos, as
when the baby is born, and when Tom's wife has her moment of
jealousy.</span></span></blockquote>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">~<i>The Sheffield
Daily Telegraph</i>, 19/11/1896</span></span><br />
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">
</span></span>
<br />
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Mr Benson's latest
novel of contemporary society, <i>Limitations</i>, is, in our
judgment, in every sense a more worthy performance than <i>Dodo</i>,
though possibly it may not receive quite so wide a welcome. Let
nobody imagine from that, that it is a dull book; on the contrary, it
is vivacious and clever, whilst less vulgar and sensational than its
famous predecessor. Mr Benson still has his own 'limitations' in the
direction of good taste, and he is still far too fond of that vacuous
and rather silly banter which is [confused] in the undergraduate
world with wit. Far too many pages of his book are filled with this
exasperating padding, and the small talk of people who make
assertions rather than think, ought ~ in fiction as in real life ~ to
be administered in homoeopathic doses. Novelists ought to remember
that though in actual life men cannot always pass to another room,
but must silently endure the infliction of bantling wit, it is always
possible to pass to the next book ~ a temptation which, though it
assailed us in the present case, we are glad to have resisted. Tom
Carlingford is the hero of <i>Limitations</i>, and let us say at once
that it is impossible not to like him. We meet him at the outset in
his rooms at King's College, Cambridge, light-hearted,
feather-brained, well-intentioned, and with such considerable
expectations that the world for all practical purposes seemed already
at his feet. Coleridge says somewhere that all men born into this
world have in them the making of a disciple either of Plato or
Aristotle; and when Tom Carlingford suddenly awoke to the majesty of
Greek art, he became as ardent an idealist ~ in certain directions at
least ~ as is perhaps possible to a young man moving in modern polite
society. He wished to be a sculptor, and a visit to Athens
strengthened the desire into an unalterable purpose, and nothing
would suit him but the grand, classical antique style. He married a
girl who was practical, somewhat severe, rather unemotional, but with
high ideals of her own, though towards religion and philanthropy
rather than art. The young people had a mutual friend, a girl called
Maud Wrexham, who possessed the artistic temperament, and about whom
Tom had dreamed during his days in Athens. She might have been his
evil genius; but if there is a crisis, there is no catastrophe in the
book, for the girl no less than the man has her great qualities. The
book is a veritable study of temperaments, and of temperament[s] at
the moment when they are passing through the eclipse of
disillusionment. Tom Carlingford had to take in sail. He was not a
great sculptor even in the making, though he could model cleverly
enough artistic statuettes. The artistic temperament is always
chafing against its 'limitations', and until people accept the
inevitable there can be no peace. Money grew suddenly scarce with
Carlingford, and the statuettes ~ well, it was no use despising them,
even though a grand block of Carrara marble had been chipped into a
statue of Demeter, all in vain, before the eyes of an unbelieving
generation. There is vision in the book, a vein of pleasant irony,
no lack of audacity in moral judgment, and more common sense than
<i>Dodo</i> ever showed.</span></span></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">~<i>The Leeds
Mercury</i>, 21/11/1896</span></span></div>
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">It is not altogether
easy to say why this story enchains the attention of the reader, as
it undoubtedly does. Nothing particular happens. The people who
live and move and have their being in its pages are quite ordinary
folk, yet we follow their unsensational fortunes from beginning to
end with undiminished interest. The dialogue is good, indeed in some
places is remarkably clever, but this hardly accounts for the charm
of the story. Merely smart word-fencing is apt to grow wearisome,
which the conversations here never do. It has to be put down to the
art of the story-teller, of which <i>Limitations</i> is really a very
fine example. Tom Carlingford is a capital example of the robust yet
impulsive young Englishman, who has 'crises' in his life, and lives
through them in a sensible, manly fashion, despite his turn for 'art'
of a strictly classical character. The author has a very pretty
knack of describing 'scenes', whether they be of an English
covert-side or of the blue waters of the Ægean, seen from the
Acropolis, with Salarmes in the distance. He is able also to depict
the 'true pathos and sublime of human life', as witness the closing
incident of the career which Tom had marked out for himself, and
which he gave up with so much pain. We have great pleasure in
commending this novel to the notice of that portion of the reading
public that is not wedded to sensationalism.</span></span></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">~<i>The Liverpool
Mercury</i>, 02/12/1896</span></span></div>
<br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Reviewing Mr E. F.
Benson's just-published book, <i>Limitations</i>, <i>The Academy</i>
says:~ “Unfortunately, you cannot make a novel out of a pepper-pot
full of epigrams and a nice touch in verbal landscape.”</span></span></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">~<i>The Cornishman</i>,
03/12/1896. See also first review above</span></span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: #ead1dc;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">[…]
much above the general level of fiction.</span></span></span></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: #ead1dc;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">~<i>The
Morning Post </i>in 'Books of the Year', 31/12/1896</span></span></span></div>
</div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: #ead1dc;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">A real novel with
depth as well as sparkle, and no small degree of literary merit.</span></span></span></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: #ead1dc;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">~<i>Chicago Tribune</i>,
quoted in front endpapers of <i>The Vintage</i></span></span></span></div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: #ead1dc;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">A strong,
interesting story of English life to-day, with plenty of humor but
much underlying seriousness and suggestion … The novel has
something more than cleverness to it.</span></span></span></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: #ead1dc;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">~<i>Hartford
Courant</i>, quoted in front endpapers of <i>The Vintage</i></span></span></span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="color: #ead1dc;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>
</i></span></span></span>
<br />
<div style="font-style: normal; font-weight: normal; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-decoration: none;">
<span style="color: #ead1dc;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">[After
<i>The Judgment Books </i>Benson] returned to King's College,
Cambridge, and contrived a yarn about a young man who resists advice
to choose a profession, gives his soul to art, and falls on hard
times. Written after the discovery of Athens and Fred's complete
surrender to the Greek ideal, <i>Limitations</i> has a hero, Tom
Carlingford, who is in many respects drawn from Fred himself. At
Cambridge he makes a virtue of loafing about and doing nothing in
particular save dine at the Pitt Club, even boasting that to be
totally idle requires some talent; getting a degree is a wretched
nuisance, an interruption of life's pleasures. He is a breezy
outdoor type, inordinately fond of cricket; he plays the piano
reasonably well; he skates. All this is recognisably E. F. Benson as
a young man. The parallels become closer as the story develops, and
Tom goes to Athens rather than get a job. There he is smitten by the
beauty of Greek sculpture and determines to become a sculptor
himself. Art will be his religion.</span></span></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: #ead1dc;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">The
story departs from autobiography when Tom marries (and incidentally
affords us one of the few successful love scenes in the whole of the
Benson </span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>œ</i></span></span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i>uvre</i></span></span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">)</span></span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">,
</span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">but
there are pages of discussion about the nature and purpose of art
which mirror Fred's post-Athenian preoccupations, and there is even a
heart-to-heart talk between Tom and his father which gives some clue
to the interview Fred had with [his own father] Edward about the
lines of his future career. We only know that Edward recommended a
job of some kind, perhaps in the Education Service, but from this and
other Benson books we may safely surmise that when Fred declared his
intention to be a writer he had to defend the artistic life against
the remonstrations of a very sceptical father. Scenes in later
novels, including </span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">The
Challoners</span></span></i></span></span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">,
support this supposition. </span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">Limitations</span></span></i></span></span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">
was written in 1896, and published two months after the Archbishop's
death.</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
</blockquote>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
<span style="color: #ead1dc;"> <span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">~Brian
Masters in </span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">The
Life of E. F. Benson</span></span></i></span></span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-style: normal;"><span style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="font-weight: normal;">,
1991 </span></span></span></span></span></span>
</div>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
</blockquote>
</div>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Times,"Times New Roman",serif;">
</span></span>Ewiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01925901182655242694noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-845353778010200403.post-86697126860437572672015-01-03T18:34:00.000+00:002015-01-07T18:36:41.980+00:00'Our Sister, the Death of the Body'<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wrvZxh33NKo/VK18O9ObJPI/AAAAAAAABtY/p2sL1i7kLSI/s1600/index.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wrvZxh33NKo/VK18O9ObJPI/AAAAAAAABtY/p2sL1i7kLSI/s1600/index.jpg" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>Non-fiction ~ review</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>Published in <i>The Spectator</i>, 5th April 1930</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;">(Collected in <i>Sea Mist</i>, 2005)</span> </b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>295 words</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>(First read 03/01/2015)</b></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Benson reviews the novel <i>Here Is Thy Victory</i> by Iris Barry (1895-1969)*. To call it 'short' would be an understatement. The title is culled from St Francis of Assisi's <a href="http://drc.usask.ca/projects/faulkner/main/related_texts/st_francis_canticle.html" target="_blank"><i>The Canticle of the Sun</i></a>, in case you were wondering. (I was.)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">It's available <a href="http://archive.spectator.co.uk/article/5th-april-1930/29/-our-sister-the-death-of-the-body" target="_blank">online here</a>.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b> </b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b> </b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: x-small;">*<a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Iris_Barry" target="_blank">This</a> is the lady in question. The Wikipedia article doesn't mention this or any other novel ~ but <i><a href="http://www.sf-encyclopedia.com/entry/barry_iris" target="_blank">The Encyclopedia of Science Fiction</a></i> does.</span>Ewiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01925901182655242694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-845353778010200403.post-78428255615270648382015-01-01T18:06:00.000+00:002015-01-27T18:25:11.504+00:00The King and His Reign IX: The King and Democracy<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_uZJivuU5lc/VMfV9OPkXRI/AAAAAAAABts/6PpWwj1A8KE/s1600/James_Keir_Hardie_by_John_Furley_Lewis%2C_1902.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-_uZJivuU5lc/VMfV9OPkXRI/AAAAAAAABts/6PpWwj1A8KE/s1600/James_Keir_Hardie_by_John_Furley_Lewis%2C_1902.jpg" height="320" width="185" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">James Keir Hardie (1856-1915)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: right;">
</div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>Published in <i>The Spectator</i>, 18th April 1935</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>1,380 words</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>(First read 01/01/2015) </b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">EFB gives a brief and not especially riveting account of the birth of the British <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Labour_Party_%28UK%29" target="_blank">Labour Party</a>, and is generally fairly even-handed and magnanimous about them¹, except with regard to what he believed to be their part in the ultimate refusal to allow the Russian royal family to find exile in the UK². As with all these articles, Benson feels obliged to compare George V with his grandmother and father, and, it has to be said, he lays it on pretty thick in his final paragraph.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">You can read the article <a href="http://archive.spectator.co.uk/article/19th-april-1935/8/the-king-and-his-reign-ix-the-king-and" target="_blank">online here</a>.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">¹ There's a mildly amusing ~ or perhaps the word is 'risible' ~ anecdote about the King refusing admittance to his garden party to <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Keir_Hardie" target="_blank">Keir Hardie</a> and his Labour-founding-father pals.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">² Even though Labour weren't actually in power at the time.</span></span>Ewiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01925901182655242694noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-845353778010200403.post-18364749758513164602014-12-31T18:35:00.000+00:002015-01-01T18:51:39.823+00:00The Clandon Crystal<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6afm1xRl2Jk/VKWWx0weIwI/AAAAAAAABtI/0g2Z98XmoqY/s1600/1411129341818.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6afm1xRl2Jk/VKWWx0weIwI/AAAAAAAABtI/0g2Z98XmoqY/s1600/1411129341818.png" height="228" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>Fiction ~ short story</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b>Published in <i>The Onlooker</i>, 23rd November 1901</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><b>(First read 31/12/2014)</b></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Of all the short stories that might be lumped together in the category 'E. F. Benson at far from his best', in <i>The Clandon Crystal</i> he perhaps came closest to the neighbouring category of 'fu_king atrocious'. Here's the plot in a rotten nutshell: A gent, wishing to be cured of alcoholism, places himself in the hands of a Harley Street 'doctor' renowned for curing folk by 'suggestion' alone; said quack 'takes over' the mind of our alcky pal, weans him off the sauce but at the same time, by making the cure dependent on his say-so, forces him into becoming engaged to his daughter (whose mind he also controls) in order to secure a juicy marriage settlement for her; once the pair are hitched the quack plans to turn the tap back on on our gent, and so kill him; gent's pal gets wind of this dastardly plot and, aided by his trusty butler, basically holds a gun at the quack's head, while keeping him prisoner, until he's reversed all his evil works.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">If it sounds daft that's because it <u><i>is</i></u> daft. Exceedingly daft. Idiotic, in fact.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">It was collected in <i>Some Social Criminals</i> (The E F Benson Society, 1995) and in <i>Sea Mist</i> (2005).</span><br />
<b> </b>Ewiehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01925901182655242694noreply@blogger.com0