Tuesday, 8 March 2016

Celebrating International Women's Day with the Romantics

Happy International Women’s Day! I’ve seen quite a few articles today that – quite rightly – highlight the achievements and struggles of contemporary women, but I thought I’d mark the day by putting together a list of some of my favourite literary women from the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries. So here, in no particular order, are ten women who you should make time to read; why not celebrate International Women’s Day by picking up one of the suggested texts below?


Mary Shelley
Mary Shelley (1797-1851)
Mary Shelley was a pioneer of science fiction, writing Frankenstein (1818) while she was still a teenager. Shelley went on to write numerous novels, short stories, travelogues, letters, journals, and biographies in her lifetime, demonstrating extraordinary range. Her fiction explores the Gothic, the historical, the fantastic, and the futuristic, experimenting with narrative voice and frequently examining gender issues.
Where to start: Frankenstein; The Last Man; Mathilda


Mary Wollstonecraft (1759-1797)
An advocate of women’s rights, the philosopher Mary Wollstonecraft was Mary Shelley’s mother. In her A Vindication of the Rights of Woman (1792) she argued that women aren’t naturally inferior to men, stressing that their ‘appearance of weakness’ is caused by their lack of education and suggesting that women should ‘share the advantages of education and government with man’.
Where to start: A Vindication of the Rights of Woman; Mary: A Fiction; Letters Written in Sweden, Norway, and Denmark


Felicia Hemans (1793-1835)
Felicia Hemans
Felicia Hemans was the most widely-read female poet in the English-speaking world during the nineteenth century. A writer of letters and prose as well as poetry, Hemans’s work is hugely patriotic, and frequently explores the position of women in the world.
Where to start: ‘The Image in Lava’; England and Spain; ‘The Grave of a Poetess’


Dorothy Wordsworth (1771-1855)
In her poem 'Why Dorothy Wordsworth is not as Famous as her Brother', Lynn Peters playfully depicts a frustrated Dorothy attempting to compose poetry while being constantly distracted by William’s questions about his laundry and meals. While Dorothy did not become a great poet, her journals present a vivid description of her day-to-day life, and even helped to inspire her brother: William’s famous ‘Daffodils’ is clearly influenced by Dorothy’s diary entry for 15 April 1802 in which she records how she’s seen daffodils that ‘tossed & reeled & danced & seemed as if they verily laughed with the wind that blew upon them over the Lake, they looked so gay ever glancing ever changing’.
Where to start: The Grasmere and Alfoxden Journals


Anna Laetitia Barbauld
Anna Laetitia Barbauld (1743-1825)
Anna Laetitia Barbauld was considered one of the great writers of her time, producing poems, essays, and children’s literature. A middle-class Protestant dissenter, Barbauld’s work addressed issues such as religious liberty, gender equality, and the slave trade.
Where to start: ‘Washing Day’; ‘Epistle to William Wilberforce, Esq. on the Rejection of the Bill for Abolishing the Slave Trade’; ‘Eighteen Hundred and Eleven, a Poem’



Mary Hays (1759-1843)
Mary Hays was very much influenced by Mary Wollstonecraft, and corresponded with a number of radicals and non-conformists during her lifetime. Drawing on her own experiences, Hays used her novels to consider female desire and class hierarchies. Although Hays’s work was widely criticised at the time for being too radical and unfeminine, she’s now receiving increased critical attention.  
Where to start: Memoirs of Emma Courtney; The Victim of Prejudice


Ann Radcliffe (1764-1823)
Mrs Radcliffe was a pioneer of the Gothic novel in the 1790s, using the ‘explained supernatural’ to ultimately attribute earthly causes to seemingly ghostly occurrences. Often interspersing her prose with poetry, Radcliffe’s descriptions of nature engage with the sublime and have a distinctly pictorial quality.
Where to start: The Mysteries of Udolpho; The Italian; The Romance of the Forest


Jane Austen
Jane Austen (1775-1817)
One of the most widely-read writers in English, Jane Austen is still beloved by scholars, the casual reading public, and dedicated ‘Janeites’ alike. A bold experimenter with free indirect speech, Austen produced works loaded with social commentary that interrogates the position of women in society. Recent feminist, Marxist, and postcolonial approaches to Austen’s work have opened up the novels in new ways, and her work continues to be adapted frequently for film and television.
Where to start: Pride and Prejudice; Emma; Persuasion


Elizabeth Hands (1746-1815)
Elizabeth Hands was a labouring-class poet in the eighteenth century. Little is known about her life, but it’s believed that she worked as a domestic servant. Her work is intelligent and satirical, addressing ideas of social status, literature, and domesticity.
Where to start: ‘A Poem, on the Supposition of an Advertisement Appearing in a Morning Paper’; ‘A Poem, on the Supposition of the Book Having Been Published and Read’; ‘Written, Originally Extempore, on Seeing a Mad Heifer’


Charlotte Smith
Charlotte Smith (1749-1806)
Charlotte Smith was a key Romantic writer, helping to shape the concerns and conventions of the period. A reviver of the sonnet, Smith experimented with form in her poetry and explored both the Gothic and sentimentality in her novels. She was also the author of four children’s books. Recent scholarship has shown that Smith particularly influenced William Wordsworth.
Where to start: Elegiac Sonnets; ‘Beachy Head’

Monday, 1 February 2016

Imagining the Apocalypse in the Long Eighteenth Century

John Martin's 'The Destruction of Pompeii and Herculaneum' (1822)
In last month’s blog post, I mentioned that I was in the process of organising a conference around the theme of ‘Imagining Apocalypse’. I’m pleased to announce that the Call for Papers has now been released, and any academics with an interest in depictions of apocalypse across the long eighteenth century are warmly encouraged to submit a paper. Further details can be found here.

As I’m keen to open out academic research to non-academics, we’re planning to end the conference with a fantastic event that I’m hoping will be enjoyed by a wider audience: a staging of William H. Callcott’s opera The Last Man, which was written in 1826. Based on Thomas Campbell’s poem of the same name, this opera received rave reviews at the time – and was performed again in 1827, 1828, and 1830 – but has subsequently been forgotten. Regular readers will know that I’m a big fan of the Last Man theme in Romantic literature, so I’m hugely excited about reviving this opera. We plan to record the event in order to make it available to a wider range of people; do look out for further details of that on this blog over the coming months!

Frontispiece to A Revealed Knowledge
Although my own personal research interests lie in Last Man literature, there was lots going on over the course of the long eighteenth century (roughly 1660-1830) when it came to ideas of apocalypse. Many people responded to the French Revolution by thinking about it in apocalyptic terms, and the growth of cities such as London was frequently explored with apocalyptic imagery. Richard Brothers – a radical protestant and Calvinist – depicted London as the sinful city of Revelation in his A Revealed Knowledge of the Prophecies and Times (1794), describing how ‘her streets are full of prostitutes, and many of her houses are full of crimes; it is for such exceeding wickedness that St John spiritually calls London [in Revelation] by the name of Sodom’.

The summer of 1816 – otherwise known as the Year Without a Summer – was also filled with apocalyptic anxiety as people speculated that the gloomy weather heralded the end of the world. Indeed, the April 1816 edition of the Literary Panorama led with a headline that warned ‘The End of the World! The End of the World!’. This was the summer in which Lord Byron wrote his famous poem ‘Darkness’: a text that imagines the death of the sun and the subsequent demise of humanity.

Joanna Southcott
Millenarial cults were, unsurprisingly, flourishing at this time. The self-proclaimed prophetess Joanna Southcott gained a following of 100,000 by 1808 due to her supposed ability to see visions of the forthcoming New Jerusalem, with this cult achieving a second climax in 1814 when Southcott suffered a hysterical pregnancy and claimed that she would give birth to the son of God. In 1826, Mary Shelley examined the dangers of such cults in her novel The Last Man, in which a charlatan in Paris sets himself up as a prophet and recruits numerous followers as a terrible plague sweeps the globe.

We’ll be exploring all of these ideas and more at the ‘Imagining Apocalypse’ conference. In the meantime, here's an article that I recently wrote for The Conversation about how the theme of survival has dominated this year’s Oscar nominations; it seems that our interest in post-apocalypse, the Last Man, and living on against the odds continues!

Tuesday, 5 January 2016

Jane Austen in 2016

Title page of the first edition of Emma
Happy New Year, Romanticism fans! 2016 is set to be an exciting year for Romanticists, not least because it marks the 200th anniversary of the 'year without a summer' which saw the creation of key Romantic texts such as Mary Shelley's Frankenstein and Lord Byron's 'Darkness'. I'm currently organising an interdisciplinary conference that will look at depictions of apocalypse in 1816 and throughout the long eighteenth century; do keep an eye out for the CFP, which will be released shortly!

The end of 2015 also saw the 200th anniversary of Jane Austen's Emma, which was published on 23 December 1815 (although the title page gives 1816 as the date of publication). As you can imagine, there's a lot going on this year to mark the anniversary and to celebrate Austen more generally. Whether you're a dedicated Janeite or simply want to find out more about Austen's life and work, there's an event out there for you! Here's my guide to the best of Jane Austen in 2016...

Jane Austen Society Study Day: Persuasion
Organised by the Institute of English Studies, this study day is due to take place on Saturday 13 February 2016. Standard registration is £35, but there are reduced rates available for Jane Austen Society members and the unwaged (£25) and for students (£15). The programme for the day looks excellent, and includes Linda Bree speaking on 'Persuasion in Context' and Peter Sabor on 'Captain Benwick's Miniature'. 
Further details about the event can be found here.

Jane Austen's House Museum: Special Exhibitions
Jane Austen's House Museum in Chawton, Hampshire, is open to the public throughout the year (although do note that it closes during the week for the first six weeks of the year). As well as exploring the house where Austen spent the last eight years of her life, visitors are able to view a variety of Austen artefacts and engage with interactive exhibits. Until 22 March 2016, there's a special exhibition on Emma Imagined to mark the bicentenary of the novel, which will demonstrate how artists, costume designers, and film-makers have been inspired by Emma. After 22 March, a new exhibition called Emma in Print will open.
Further details about these exhibitions can be found here.

16th Annual Jane Austen Festival
The annual Bath-based Austen festival will take place on 9-18 September this year. The 2016 programme has yet to be released, but previous events have included talks, tours, recitals, workshops, and Regency costumes a-plenty!
Watch out for further details here.

Jane Austen Regency Week
Nine days of Austen-based events will take place in Alton and Chawton on 18-26 June 2016. This year's programme is still being finalised, but will include singing, drama, music, tours, talks, and a ball!
Find out more about the event here.

Summer of 1816: Creativity and Turmoil
This conference will be held in Sheffield on 24-27 June 2016 and will consider all things 1816! The CFP closes on 15 January 2016; one of the suggested topics for papers is the commemoration of the anniversary of Emma
Find out more about the conference here.

So there you have it: a year of Austen! I saw in 2016 with my own celebration of Austen by visiting Lyme Park - the setting for Pemberley in the BBC's 1995 adaptation of Pride and Prejudice - on New Year's Day. Alas, I didn't see Mr Darcy emerging from the lake, but I think you'll agree that the house and grounds are stunning - perfect for a bracing winter's walk!






Tuesday, 22 December 2015

The Wordsworths: Romantics at Christmas

William Wordsworth's ice skates
When I decided to write a post about the Romantics at Christmas, one family immediately came to mind: the Wordsworths. The festive season repeatedly punctuates William Wordsworth's work, from a community gathered together at Christmas in 'The Thorn' and the image of a family sitting 'Like happy people round a Christmas fire' in 'Michael' to the minstrels playing their 'Christmas tune' in the River Duddon sonnets. We encounter joyful recollections of the 'frosty season' in Book I of The Prelude, in which Wordsworth explains how 'cottage windows through the twilight blazed'. The poem reveals how the young William 'wheeled about' on his ice skates, 'Proud and exulting, like an untired horse / That cares not for its home'. 

Unfortunately, Christmas was not always a happy time for Wordsworth. In Book XI of The Prelude, he recalls the Christmas of 1783 in what has become known as the 'Waiting for the Horses' episode. Wordsworth recollects how at thirteen years of age he waited, 'Feverish, and tired, and restless', to return home for the holidays, only for his father to die within ten days. Although Wordsworth found something positive in this 'spot of time', returning to the memory in future years to 'drink / As at a fountain' and seek consolation, the episode certainly has a sombre tone.

Christmas Day was also an important time for the Wordsworth family for another, happier, reason: it was the date on which, in 1771, William's sister Dorothy was born. Dorothy clearly reflected a great deal on the date of her birthday, writing to Lady Beaumont on 25 December 1805 that:

[A] birthday is to every body a time of serious thought, but more so, I should think, when it happens to be upon a day of general festivity, and especially on Christmas-day, when all persons, however widely scattered, are in their thoughts gathered together at home. I can almost tell where every Birth-day of my life was spent, many of them even how from a very early time.

Dorothy proceeds to explain that for a number of years (between the deaths of her mother and father) she was 'never once at home' for Christmas, and talks with sadness about the memories of the season held by her brothers of which she is not a part. 

Dorothy Wordsworth
Understandably, the adult Dorothy clearly relished being with her family at this time of year. She writes contentedly in her journal on Christmas Eve 1802 that 'William is now sitting by me [...] I have been beside him ever since tea running the heel of a stocking, repeating some of his sonnets to him, listening to his own repeating, reading some of Milton's & the Allegro & Penseroso'. Within this tiny glimpse of one seemingly unremarkable Christmas Eve at Dove Cottage, we're able to view a picture of genuine harmony and tenderness between the two siblings. 

While Christmas may have had sad associations at times for both William and Dorothy, then, they certainly cherished being reunited as adults. Even simple pleasures such as a walk together were moments to be treasured; I shall close this post with Dorothy's journal entry for 26 December 1801, in which the landscape is described as being so still and quiet that the pair could be the only people in the world at that moment:

The rain went off & we walked to Rydale - it was very pleasant - Grasmere Lake a beautiful image of stillness, clear as glass, reflecting all things - the wind was up & the waters sounding. The lake of a rich purple, the field a soft yellow, the Island yellowish-green, the copses Red Brown the mountains purple. The Church & buildings, how quiet they were!

Thank you to all those who have read my blog in 2015; wishing you all a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

Wednesday, 11 November 2015

Lost P. B. Shelley Poem Acquired by the Bodleian

In my access and outreach work I often tell potential applicants to Oxford about our wonderful Bodleian Library, and one fact that I like to reel off is that the library holds well over 11 million books. Well, this week marks a significant milestone, as the library has just acquired its 12 millionth book! And not just any book - the latest acquisition is a long-lost poem by the Romantic poet Percy Bysshe Shelley.

The pamphlet, 'Poetical Essay on the Existing State of Things', was printed by Shelley in 1811, but scholars had long since considered it lost. The copy now in the Bodleian was found in a private collection in 2006 and was purchased with the help of a benefactor for an undisclosed sum.

Composed in the autumn and winter of 1810-11 when Shelley was an undergraduate at Oxford, the 172-line poem was written in support of an Irish journalist, Peter Finnerty, who had been imprisoned for libel. The poem is anti-war, and considers the abuse of press freedom and dysfunctional political institutions. Written in rhyming couplets, the text is attributed to 'A Gentleman of the University of Oxford' and is dedicated to 'Harriet W-B-K' (Harriet Westbrook, who subsequently eloped with Shelley).

I was extremely pleased to hear that the Bodleian has digitised the pamphlet and made the images available for anyone to view for free at a special dedicated website. This website also contains biographical information about Shelley, detailed background information about the text, two short videos, notes to the poem by Dr Nicholas Halmi, and links to further resources.

As Stephen Hebron - a curator at the Bodleian - explains in one of the short films featured on this site, pamphlets were 'a way of getting your opinion across' before the days of blogging and Twitter feeds. The poem is full of youthful passion and conviction, talking of 'legal murders' and those who lie in 'manged heaps' on 'War's red altar'.

The pamphlet will be on public display in the Weston Library until 23 December 2015.

Further details about the discovery of this text can be found here and information on viewing the pamphlet at the Weston library can be found here.

Saturday, 31 October 2015

Mary Shelley's 'On Ghosts' (Featuring the King of the Cats)




I look for ghosts - but none will force
Their way to me; 'tis falsely said
That there was ever intercourse
Between the living and the dead.

William Wordsworth, 'The Affliction of Margaret' (1807)


As a big fan of the Gothic, I do like to read a spooky poem or two on Halloween. The Romantics wrote plenty of dark, ghostly, and eerie verses; some old favourites of mine include Wordsworth’s ‘The Vale of Esthwaite’, Coleridge’s ‘Christabel’, Blake’s ‘Fair Elenor’, Keats’s ‘The Eve of St Agnes’, and, of course, Byron’s 'Darkness'. For something a bit more off the beaten track, I’d really recommend M. G. Lewis’s Tales of Wonder, and P. B. Shelley’s youthful attempts at Gothic poetry featured in Original Poetry by Victor and Cazire are good fun (if rather silly at times!).

Mary Shelley
Today, though, I’m going to be re-reading Mary Shelley’s ‘On Ghosts’, an essay that was printed in the London Magazine in March 1824. In this piece, Mary laments the lack of mystery and wonder in modern times, explaining that the ‘strange tales’ believed by our forefathers are no longer seen to be part of reality in our wiser age:

What has become of enchantresses with their palaces of crystal and dungeons of palpable darkness? What of fairies and their wands? What of witches and their familiars? and, last, what of ghosts, with beckoning hands and fleeting shapes, which quelled the soldier’s brave heart, and made the murderer disclose to the astonished noon the veiled work of midnight?

Mary proceeds, however, to question whether we really don’t believe in ghosts in our modern time. Granted, she explains, it is easy to dismiss the possibility of spectres in the light of noon-day; but at midnight, in a lonely house with flapping curtains and a dusky passage, when reading about the Bleeding Nun, we’re not so certain.

While Mary explains that she has never seen a real ghost herself, she relates the tales of Thomas Jefferson Hogg, who claimed to have seen the benevolent ghost of a recently-deceased friend, and Angelo Mengaldo, who saw the headless ghost of a companion who had killed himself after falling in love with a woman who did not return his passion. These tales may come across as rather far-fetched, but both men are presented as being reliable and of sound mind; Hogg is described as a person of ‘strong and virile intellect’, and Mengaldo is said to be ‘by no means addicted to superstition’.

M. G. Lewis
The essay closes with a final account that Mary describes as ‘not probably so authentic [as the other tales], but perhaps more amusing’. The story, Mary explains, was told by M. G. Lewis, the famous author of The Monk. It is certainly a strange supernatural tale, but is it true? I’ll leave you to make up your own minds…


The King of the Cats

A gentleman journeying towards the house of a friend, who lived on the skirts of an extensive forest, in the east of Germany, lost his way. He wandered for some time among the trees, when he saw a light at a distance. On approaching it he was surprised to observe that it proceeded from the interior of a ruined monastery. Before he knocked at the gate he thought it proper to look through the window. He saw a number of cats assembled round a small grave, four of whom were at that moment letting down a coffin with a crown upon it. The gentleman startled at this unusual sight, and, imagining that he had arrived at the retreats of fiends or witches, mounted his horse and rode away with the utmost precipitation. He arrived at his friend’s house at a late hour, who sate up waiting for him. On his arrival his friend questioned him as to the cause of the traces of agitation visible in his face. He began to recount his adventures after much hesitation, knowing that it was scarcely possible that his friend should give faith to his relation. No sooner had he mentioned the coffin with the crown upon it, than his friend’s cat, who seemed to have been lying asleep before the fire, leaped up, crying out, ‘Then I am king of the cats;’ and then scrambled up the chimney, and was never seen more.



The King of the Cats wishes you a Happy Halloween!

Tuesday, 29 September 2015

The Pre-Raphaelites: Romantic Victorians

Kelmscott Manor, William Morris's Cotswold retreat
Over the past couple of years, my research and teaching interests have been extending further into Victorian territory. It will come as no surprise that I’m particularly interested in the dark Gothic and dystopian texts of the fin de siècle period; indeed, the ‘Last Man’ theme crops up time and again in literature of the 1880s and 1890s. Beyond the Last Man, though, I’m also really interested in the depiction of subterranean spaces in fin de siècle texts, and have just finished a chapter on this topic which will appear in a forthcoming edited collection on William Morris and H. G. Wells.

News from Nowhere: frontispiece
Having spent the summer immersed in the work of Morris and Wells, I felt that I was justified in taking a ‘research’ trip (albeit with a fair bit of cake, ice cream, and tea!) to Kelmscott Manor, the former Cotswold retreat of Morris and his friends and family. The house and grounds were just as wonderful as I was expecting them to be, and it’s easy to see how the Manor was a source of inspiration for Morris’s art. Morris – a pioneer of the Arts and Crafts movement – originally leased Kelmscott Manor with his friend, the Pre-Raphaelite artist Dante Gabriel Rossetti. As a result of this partnership, the house is filled with a variety of works – from tapestries to paintings – produced by the two men and their wider circle.

The house, which features in Morris’s News from Nowhere (1890), boasts some real treasures; one favourite of mine was Rossetti’s portrait of Morris’s wife, Jane, entitled 'The Blue Silk Dress'. Jane apparently made the blue dress herself, and her creativity is reflected throughout the house, with many examples of her needlework on display. Other artists featured in the Manor’s collections include Burne-Jones and Breughel.

D. G. Rossetti's 'The Blue Silk Dress'
If you’re visiting Kelmscott Manor, be sure to leave time to explore both the grounds and the local village. The church (St George’s) was locked by the time that I’d torn myself away from the house but I was able to locate Morris’s grave, which is marked with a commemorative headstone designed by his friend Philip Webb.


I am, of course, a Romanticist at heart, so one of the things that I love about the Pre-Raphaelites is their interest in, and response to, the Romantic movement. The famous Pre-Raphaelite ‘List of Immortals’ features Byron, Wordsworth, Keats, Shelley, and Leigh Hunt, but Kelmscott Manor also indicates an interest in William Blake. This silk-on-silk textile (below), known as the ‘The Homestead and the Forest’ quilt, was designed by Morris’s daughter May, and embroidered by Jane. The quilt features an array of exotic animals, including a tiger, underneath which is a line from Blake’s poem 'The Tyger'. I managed to chop the bottom of the quilt off in this picture, so you'll just have to trust me on that one!

'The Homestead and the Forest'
The Pre-Raphaelite poets frequently refer to the Romantics in their work – some good poems with which to start if you’re interested are William Michael Rossetti’s ‘Mary Shelley’ and Christina Rossetti’s ‘On Keats’, both of which can be found in Dinah Roe’s superb anthology. I’ll leave you with a personal favourite of mine by another Rossetti: Dante Gabriel Rossetti’s ‘John Keats’, in which the Romantic view of the tragic life and death of this young poet very much lives on.


‘John Keats’, by Dante Gabriel Rossetti

The weltering London ways where children weep
And girls whom none call maidens laugh, - strange road
Miring his outward steps, who inly trode
The bright Castalian brink and Latmos’ steep: -
Even such his life’s cross-paths; till deathly deep
He toiled through sands of Lethe; and long pain,
Weary with labour spurned and love found vain,
In dead Rome’s sheltering shadow wrapped his sleep.
O pang-dowered Poet, whose reverberant lips
And heart-strung lyre awoke the Moon’s eclipse, -
Thou whom the daisies glory in growing o’er, -
Their fragrance clings around thy name, not writ
But rumour’d in water, while the fame of it
Along Time’s flood goes echoing evermore.