If it is
true, as Lytton Strachey affirmed, that the history of the Victorian age can
never be written because we know too much about it, it would seem almost
equally true of the history of Victorian literature, itself a much studied,
complex and multitudinous representation of a supposedly unrepresentable age.
And yet James Eli Adams, in well under 500 pages of cogent and elegant prose,
has achieved at the very least a superlative version of such a history.
Obviously, as Adams recognizes, such a history cannot aspire to encyclopedic
comprehensiveness, but he nevertheless has interesting things to say even about
the subjects he regrets lacking space for: "the economics of publishing,
history, literature by working class authors, science writing, and writing from
and about imperial dominions" (x). An excellent, if brief, account of the
literary marketplace circa 1830 (11-14), for example, valuably contextualizes
the early writings of Dickens, Carlyle, Tennyson and Browning. It is primarily
with such "literary" figures and with the literary genres of poetry,
the novel, drama and, for lack of a better term, "sage-writing" that
the history is concerned. To provide as full a sense as possible of the impact
of Victorian writers on their own times, Adams wisely chooses to lean heavily
on contemporary reviews and responses to the works discussed, though in the
interest of conserving his space he very sensibly chooses not to engage
extensively with later critics of Victorian literature. Consequently, though
his readings are richly informed by his obviously broad and deep knowledge of
the work of other Victorianists, the history is not designed for specialists so
much as for more general readers, and he is able to sustain a pace and
freshness of perception that will consistently engage and reward them.
Still, if I
seem to be suggesting--to paraphrase Arnold's Strayed Reveller-- that "not
deep the [critic] sees but wide," I consider Adams' breadth a virtue. If his necessarily
brief analyses lack the space to develop radically new perspectives, their often epigrammatic apercus will appeal even to specialists. Further, the
very breadth of Adams' treatment leads to a depth of contextualization and
sometimes to surprising juxtapositions that illuminate the common ends and aims
of seemingly diverse works.
Adams begins his history not from the arbitrary date of Victoria's
coronation, 1837, but from the symbolic end of the Romantic era with the death
of Byron in 1824 and the new awareness of a "spirit of the age" that
resulted from England's turn inward after the Napoleonic wars and the political
ferment about various reforms around 1830. Adams divides the period into three
chronological blocks: "'The Times are Unexampled': Literature in the Age of
Machinery, 1830-1850," "Crystal Palace and Bleak House:
Expansion and Anomie, 1851-1873," and "The Rise of Mass Culture and
the Specter of Decline, 1873-1901." No doubt these chronological divisions
are themselves somewhat arbitrary, but the more manageable mini-periods enable
Adams to write his history as a kind of "thick description" somewhat
akin to the Carlylean mode he cites (76). As he says of Carlyle's history of
the French Revolution, Adams's own narrative "shifts abruptly" at
times "between highly particular description" of the works of one
author or within one genre to more general description of the historical moment
or to the works of another author or movement. Inevitably some of these shifts
seem slightly arbitrary or abrupt, as when he darts from Elizabeth Barrett Browning's Casa
Guidi Windows to
Tennyson's The Princess with only the tenuous connection that the latter is "A more
oblique response to a different political struggle" (132) Such
juxtapositions, however, seem necessary to accurately reflect the almost
chaotically multitudinous nature of the times. Though Adams avoids simplifying
the historical sweep of the age by providing an unbroken narrative sequence,
his clarity and quiet authority assure that the representation of a confused and
confusing age never falls into confusing prose or laxity of focus. Rather, his
thick description situates the works historically more than biographically.
We first see the works of Tennyson and
Browning, for example, in the context of the rise of utilitarianism that
"increasingly relegated poetry to the realm of the trivial or
childish" and of the feminization of poetry associated with the hegemony
of ladies' keepsake annuals in the late 1820 and 1830s. Then we see the works
of Tennyson and Browning in the context of mid-Victorian concerns about political
ferment on the continent, increased bureaucratization of society at home, the
Crimean war and the call for new types of masculine heroism. Still later, we
see their works in
relation to the rise of imperial concerns and of the aesthetic and decadent
movements in the arts. But Adams also gives authors their due. Combined with
the recurrence of such major figures as Carlyle, Dickens, Tennyson and Browning
across chronological divides and cultural shifts, Adams' charting of social and generic changes across
time helps to give this history its continuity and narrative thrust. They in turn justify
Adams's assertion that the book is best read as a whole, with the introduction
rather than the index as a starting point (ix).
The only
conspicuous flaw in this otherwise magisterial overview of Victorian literature
is that it evidently needed one more edit to eliminate its fairly numerous and sometimes
jarring errors, such as the assertion that Macaulay found Wordsworth's
Prelude "to
the last degree Jacobitical" (69) rather than Jacobinical, the quotation
of a passage from Swinburne's "Hymn to Proserpine" as from "The
Garden of Proserpine" (254), and, inexplicably, the attribution of Lizzie
Hexam's paternity in Our Mutual Friend to Rogue Riderhood (227). For the most part,
however, such errors are merely typos (Jude Hawley for Jude Fawley, 393) and
are not likely to be seriously misleading in a book that can be generally
relied upon both for the accuracy of its facts and for the intelligence and
sophistication of its analyses.
Finally,
when due allowance is made for what cannot be covered in a book of this size,
its breadth of
coverage is staggering. It includes all the major figures and genres of the age, hosts of
relatively minor authors and works, and all the important subgenres. Also, by
placing the individual works in their ever-shifting literary and cultural
milieus, it provides
a depth of insight lacking in more narrowly conceived studies. The rather
surprising juxtaposition of Little Dorrit with the contemporaneously published "Charge of
the Light Brigade," for example, affords Adams the opportunity to offer
fresh perspectives on both works as well as on the cultural climate of 1854.
Less surprisingly, the linking of Dickens's early work with the vogues for silver-spoon and
Newgate novels may not enlighten the specialist, but it promises to deepen common readers' appreciation of
Dickens and extend their awareness of the less familiar subgenres of Victorian
fiction. Also, it may well stimulate an exploration of the work of such
important but neglected authors as Ainsworth, Disraeli and Bulwer-Lytton, not
to mention such utterly forgotten authors as Catherine Gore. Adams, in fact, seems
to have read so much of the relatively minor and currently neglected literature
of the entire period, and writes about it with such gusto and infectious
enthusiasm that he extends the breadth and depth of the entire field of
Victorian studies and will doubtless inspire specialists as well as less
advanced students of the period to read works they might otherwise have viewed
as expendable. The book is indeed so replete with valuable insights into so
many works and authors that the reader who has taken in its chronological sweep
by reading from the introduction through the epilogue will undoubtedly return
over and over again via the index to review the readings of particular works.
Finally,
A History of
Victorian Literature
is a full undergraduate and graduate education in the field, an indispensable
guide that for a new generation of scholars will take the place of classics such
as Richard Altick's Victorian People and Ideas and Jerome Hamilton Buckley's The
Victorian Temper.
At the very least, it will take its place as a fixture on graduate reading
lists while also offering more general readers a lively, engaging and full
introduction to the unlimited literary riches of the Victorian age. Matthew
Arnold's "touchstone" phrase from Shakespeare aptly describes this
book: "infinite
riches in a little room."
David
G. Riede is Professor of English at the Ohio State University.