Jane Austen: Her Life and Letters by William and Richard Arthur Austen-Leigh

I really didn't plan to read two biographies in a row, but when I realized that's what I was doing I thought that Jane Austen ought to cleanse my palette after Graham Greene. She certainly led a very different life and had a very different outlook on life.

The first biography of Jane Austen's life, Memoir of Jane Austen was written in 1869-70, by (James) Edward Austen-Leigh, the son of her oldest brother, James with help from his sisters Anna, and Caroline. All three knew her well. Edward was about 20 when she died, Anna, 24, and Caroline, 12.

By 1913 when Jane Austen: Her Life and Letters was written, newer sources of information were available, especially Letters of Jane Austen, edited by Edward Lord Brabourne, the son of Jane's niece and dear friend, Fanny Knight. Fanny was the daughter of Jane's brother Edward who was adopted by the Knight family. William, and Richard Arthur Austen-Leigh, the son, and nephew respectively of the author of the Memoir used the previous work, the letters, and other resources to write a more complete narrative of Jane's life.

The book begins with a long chapter on the Austen and Leigh (Jane's mother was a Leigh) family genealogies beginning with one John Austen who died in 1620, 155 years before Jane was born. It was so confusing that I made myself a family tree, but then I found there was one in the back of the book, which I was constantly consulting while reading. The second and third paragraphs of this post might give you some idea of how hard it is to straighten out the family relationships. There are about 10 first names that are used over and over again, and sometimes their last names change.

Most of the letters in the book were written to her sister, and closest friend, Cassandra. Because of this there are long periods of time when there are no letters because they only wrote when one or the other was away from home. Thankfully, this was more often than I would have thought from reading articles and short biographies in Jane's novels that describe her life as quiet and circumscribed. I suppose in some ways it was, but they had a large family, and friends in many different places, and were frequently traveling to visit one or the other, and later in life they lived in Bath where they stayed fairly busy.

Another reason why there are few letters is that Cassandra destroyed most of those that were written. Anything personal or that may have had unpleasant news was destroyed, so the remaining letters are mostly newsy accounts of where Jane had been and who she had been with. There are also a few letters to other family members. My favorites are the letters to her nieces, Fanny, Anna, and Caroline.

From all accounts Jane seems to have been universally (almost) loved. She is frequently described as being very even-tempered, and pleasant. A niece says:

She was singularly free from the habit . . . of looking out for people's foibles for her own amusement, or the entertainment of her hearers . . . I do not suppose she ever in her life said a sharp thing.

Of course, (almost) every account we have in this book comes from a family member. The one dissenting opinion comes from the mother of (competing?) authoress Mary Russell Mitford, who told her daughter that Jane was, "the prettiest, silliest, most affected, husband-hunting butterfly she ever remembers." But then, the author tells us that Jane was only about 10 when Mrs. Mitford knew her.

Some of Jane's letters are a bit enigmatic. They are often so tongue-in-cheek (I think.), teasing, or coy that I don't know what to make of them. I suspect the problem is that she is writing to a sister who always knows when she is playing and when she is being sincere, and we do not. She is sometimes pretty snarky about people in a way that belies the above quote, but then, she was talking to her sister.

Often while reading the book, I was reminded of passages from Jane's novels. In one of her early letters she speaks of a woman whom she describes as being always present and never wanted. (I wish I could quote that accurately, but I have looked, and looked and can't find it.) Then years later, she speaks of the same woman in a much more charitable way, and it reminds me of Emma being so rude to Mrs. Bates, and being brought to task by Mr. Knightley.

The family often wrote and performed plays, although they must not have caused the type of scandal found in Mansfield Park, and the family's years in Bath, and a trip to Lyme are evocative of Persuasion. There is a letter written to tell Cassandra about the house they have rented in Bath which says:

I have a very nice chest of drawers and a closet full of shelves--so full indeed that there is nothing else in it, and it should therefore be called a cupboard rather than a closet, I suppose.

Shades of Lady Catherine de Bourgh!

The picture in the upper righthand corner is one I found online. I usually take a picture of my own book, but I didn't think that a picture of a plain green book would be very interesting. This one has the added interest of a sketch drawn of Jane by her sister Cassandra, although the original was black and white. The picture of Jane Austen below is found in the front of the book. It is a mystery picture because there is a question as to whether it is our Jane Austen, or a cousin.

A Dr. Newman wrote to a friend saying:

I have another picture that I wish to go to your neighbor, Morland Rice [James Edward Austen-Leigh's grandson]. It is a portrait of Jane Austen the novelist, by Zoffany. The picture was given to my stepmother by her friend Colonel Austen of Kippington, Kent, because she was a great admirer of her works.

There appears to be a lot of controversy about the painting. You can read more about it here.

If you would like to read this book, you can have my copy if you ask in the next week or so, or you can get it online free here.

AMDG

That Big Book between the Bookends

If you have been paying any attention to the picture of the books I am currently reading on the sidebar, you will have noticed that there is a big book there that doesn't seem to budge. It is the first book that started reading for this blog, and I am still only a bit more than halfway through. It is good, but not an easy read, and not worth picking up unless you can devote a good bit of uninterrupted time to it.

But I will persevere!

AMDG

A Sort of Life by Graham Greene

I purchased A Sort of Life from Amazon while I was writing this post for a series on Maclin Horton's blog, Light on Dark Water. I read or re-read five or six novels to prepare for writing the post, and I had planned to read this short biography of Graham's early life, but I ran out of time, and I never got back to it. Greene's novels, especially his four so-called Catholic novels, have as deep a Catholic sensibility as any I have ever read, but although he apparently continued to believe, he most emphatically did not live his faith in his later life which by some accounts was rather sordid. So, I have really wondered if I wanted to read an autobiography. However, when I opened this one, I found that it only covered the first 36 years of his life, so I thought I would give it a try.

What I found was that from the time he started school, Greene's life was fairly miserable. His father was the head of the school he attended and his home was in the same building as the school, but the conditions in the dorm were bleak. From what I've read about English boarding schools, they don't seem to have been unusual, but Greene could not adjust himself to constant noise and crudeness of the boys. Because I know from other reading that there is evidence that his sexuality was perverse, I wondered if something had happened at school to cause this, but he specifically says that the dorms were completely chaste.

One story concerning his time at school was very interesting to me. There were two boys who constantly bullied him and made his life miserable. Later during the war, he met up with one of them, and the man kept talking about what great times they had had together, and how inseparable the three of them had been. He wanted to get together socially to talk about old times. I wonder about this great discrepancy in perceptions and what the real truth of the matter was. Did Greene's mental illness color the way he reacted to the other boys, or had this man just forgotten how bad their behavior was? Maybe a bit of both?

It is probable that much of Greene's misery wasn't caused by the people around him, but from something deep within himself. He talks of his entire life as an attempt to escape from boredom. He was beset by many fears: birds, bats, moth, fire, and ". . . a witch who would lurk at night on the nursery landing by the linen cupboard." He made several unsuccessful and undiscovered suicide attempts, and had a serious breakdown when he was about 16, at which time he ran away and when found, refused to returned to school. At this point, he was put under the care of a psychiatrist with whom he lived for a while, and was eventually diagnosed as manic-depressive. Although he found the therapy very helpful, he later, in an attempt to escape the ever-present boredom, played Russian Roulette with a pistol he had found in his older brother's drawer--six times.

He says little about his wife Vivien in this book, probably because by the time he wrote it they were estranged, but he does talk about how their engagement caused him to investigate the Catholic Church. He says that he did not have any intention of converting, but was only trying to learn something about the faith; however, the more he learned from the priest, the more convinced he became that what he was hearing was true.

I would not recommend this book to anyone who is not really interested in Green for some reason. It is very dark, and has a hopeless feel to it.

AMDG

A Passage to India by E. M. Forester

[Aziz's friends] were discussing as to whether or no it is possible to be friends with an Englishman. Mahmoud Ali argued that it was not, Hamidullah disagreed, but with so many reservations that there was no friction between them. 

 Except for a description of Chandrapore, the setting of A Passage to India, this discussion begins the story, and for the rest of the book this question is being answered one way and another by the characters. The story is in the time of the British Raj, and revolves for the most part around the attempt of Dr. Aziz, a Moslem who works at the Government hospital, to be friendly with the Anglo-Indians. Most of them, including Aziz's boss, Dr. Callendar, regard Indians as something less than human, but there are a few who are open to his friendship.

During the above conversation, Aziz receives a message from Dr. Callendar to come right away; however, when he arrives at Callendar's house, the doctor has already left, and Mrs. Callendar comes out, and without even acknowledging his presence, appropriates Aziz's tonga (a kind of horse-drawn taxi). Rather dispirited, Aziz wanders into a nearby mosque to rest. As he is lost in his thoughts, he sees a ghostly figure among the pillars, and then is incensed when he realizes it is an Englishwoman. He calls out to her that she should not be there. She answers that she has taken her shoes off, and asks if it isn't it all right for her to be there under those circumstances. He tells her that it is, but it is so unusual for the Englishwomen to do this that he is surprised. The woman is Mrs. Moore, the mother of the new City Magistrate, Ronny Heaslop, and she has come to India to escort a young woman, Adela Quested, who is visiting her son. She has left the club, where Cousin Kate is being performed, to get some air. As they talk, Mrs. Moore and Aziz form a deep and lasting friendship.

Adela and Mrs. Moore are discontented with their life among the Anglo-Indians. Everything they do is so exactly like their life in England, and they want to see the "real India." This doesn't really meet with the approval of the other English, but the Collector, Mr. Turton, who is the highest ranking British official in Chandrapore, suggests they could have a "bridge party" so that the ladies can meet some of the Indians--not a party to play bridge, but a party to bridge the gap between the cultures. This party is a dismal failure during which there is no real communication between the Indians and the Anglo-Indians. The one saving grace is that Adela meets Mr. Fielding, the Principal of the Government college, who is not much involved with the rest of the Anglo-Indians, and he invites the ladies to tea at his home where they will meet Professor Godbole, a Hindu Brahman. Adela asks if he knows Aziz, and though he doesn't, Fielding invites him also.

During the course of day, Fielding and Aziz become great friends, and Aziz, rather overwhelmed by his happiness, invites the ladies to tea at his home. Almost immediately, he realizes what he has done. His home isn't nice enough to invite ladies for tea. So, he improvises on the spot without thinking (again). He suggests that instead of tea, they picnic at the Marabar (in reality Barabar) Caves, and the ladies agree.

Aziz is a very endearing and innocent character. He is so willing to be pleased and, as we have seen with Mrs. Moore and Mr. Fielding, he gives his love to people so eagerly that we are afraid for him, and with good reason. He knows nothing about the caves, but with the help of friends he manages to arrange a really magnificent outing; however, things do not go as planned. The ensuing events are catastrophic for the participants, and threaten to destroy Aziz's life. During the remainder of the book, we, and the characters, gradually learn the truth of the day's misfortunes, and how they affect the relationships between all those involved.

The cultural differences in Chandrapore are not only between the Indians and the Anglo-Indians, but also within the Indian community itself. There are always disagreements between Moslems, and Hindus; and between those who are more wordly, and those who are traditional. It's not just differences in ways of life or beliefs, it is the difference in the ways various cultures think. We may be able to learn the language of another culture, but we can really never be sure we understand what they are saying or thinking.

E. M. Forester only lived in India for a short time, but he obviously had many objections to the way the British ruling class lived and related to the Indians. Further on in the discussion that begins this post, one of the Indians says that some of the Anglo-Indians are all right when they arrive, but after a year, they are all the same, and for the women it only takes six months.   To emphasize this, Forester often talks about the officials by their titles instead of their names: the City Magistrate, the Collector, the Civil Surgeon.

There is a rather telling conversation between Mrs. Moore and her son Ronny after the bridge party.

[Adela] doesn't think [the Anglo-Indians] behave pleasantly to Indians, you see."

"What did I tell you?" he exclaimed, losing his gentle manner. ". . . Oh, how like a woman to worry over a side-issue!"

[Mrs. Moore] forgot about Adela in her surprise. "A side-issue, a side-issue?" she repeated. "How can it be that?"

"We're not out here for the purpose of behaving pleasantly! . . . We're out here to do justice and keep the peace. Them's my sentiments. India isn't a drawing room."

While I was reading A Passage to India, I thought a lot about Rumer Godden's Indian novels and biographies. Ms. Godden's father was a British official in India, but he and his children were much more in touch with the "real India" than the officials in this novel. I suppose he was more along the lines of Mr. Fielding.

As you can see in the picture of my copy of the novel, it fell apart while I was reading, and I lost the first part. Luckily, my husband had picked up another identical copy, in the giveaway section of the library, so I was able to look things up while I was writing. This one is beginning to fall apart, too, but it has some interesting notes in it.

In a few passages, Aziz talks about the Mogul emperors, especially Emperor Babur, whom he really admires. I had never heard of Emperor Babur, but the next day this picture showed up on my Facebook page.

Charbagh garden of Mughal Emperor Babur (1483–1530), c. 1590.

This was a very well-written and thought-provoking novel. It was Forester's last novel, although he lived for many years after it was published.

AMDG