Reminiscing on self

In an LRB piece (Vol. 46 No. 17 · 12 September 2024) coming out of the publication earlier this year of a new edition of the classicist Jane Ellen Harrison’s Reminiscences of a Student’s Life: A Memoir (first published in 1925 towards the end of her life), Mary Beard ponders the Harrison life stories as told by her, to be retold by others until the varied accounts thereof fused to be the whole truth and nothing but the truth. Or perhaps not. And if not, who cares, for Harrison’s life was remarkable in every way irrespective of questionable veracity, mischievous embellishment or the self-interested spin. Harrison knew that a woman of her time had to control their own narrative or no one else would – or worse, could easily find itself appropriated by a … bloke!

This is not the first time Mary Beard has considered Jane Harrison. She too is of course a fellow of Newnham College, Cambridge, where Harrison studied, was rejected by, and returned to – to become the archetype for generations of women academics. And, Professor Beard in fact hunted through archival material for her own book, The Invention of Jane Harrison (Harvard University Press) in 2000. (A review from the time at The Guardian can be read here.)

If written words are not enough, the LRB also included a conversation with Mary Beard about her article in their podcast (available on their website or embedded below from Spotify) where Harrison is stylized as ‘the cleverest woman in England’ (of that time).

I too have mentioned Jane Harrison before – here and again here, for instance, in respect to her being one of a particular group of intellectual women who happened to live for a time on Mecklenburgh Square in London, and as written about by Francesca Wade in her book Square Haunting (2020). Another of those was of course Virginia Woolf, and the Woolfs attendance at Harrison’s funeral (on 19th April 1928) is recorded in a 21st April 1928 diary entry that I make note of here. This, an event that does not appear to have moved VW terribly much but, just as she has afforded others who touched upon her world, her memorializing of Harrison is other – for her, a guest appearance in A Room of One’s Own. And what a memorial that is; one that assures a recognition beyond her time into the present.

The First Lady of American Classics: Remembering Edith Hamilton – Antigone

The First Lady of American Classics: Remembering Edith Hamilton – Antigone
— Read on antigonejournal.com/2024/03/remembering-edith-hamilton/

Possibly Edith Hamilton (here her Wiki entry) is one of those extraordinary American women renowned only on their home turf and amongst those steeped in Classics education. Whatever, I only came across Hamilton by chance a few years ago whilst reading Jesmyn Ward’s Salvage the Bones in which the feisty young protagonist is given a copy of Mythology to read by a teacher, and finds solace in those ancient myths – and refuge from the cruel realities of poverty and despair in the Mississippi Delta.

Introduction to the Complete Library of Charles Darwin by John van Wyhe

Introduction to the Complete Library of Charles Darwin by John van Wyhe
— Read on darwin-online.org.uk/EditorialIntroductions/vanWyhe_The_Complete_Library_of_Charles_Darwin.html

Charles Darwin’s birthday (12 February 1809 – 19 April 1882) today! I know this because I have just listened to Sarah Darwin – a couple of greats of a grand up the ‘tree of life’ – inform me of such just now on Today. On this day then, the much lauded, often misunderstood – and sometimes maligned – ‘father of evolution’ has gifted to his extended and forever growing family, and contrary to birthday conventions, the books from his library – that inner sanctum of a every learned Victorian – at Down House, the Darwin family home in Berkshire.

Everything old is new again

Old fossil that I am – or, rather, on my way to being – I read with interest this review by Liam Shaw in the London Review of Books. The book in question: Remnants of Ancient Life: The New Science of Old Fossils by Dale E. Greenwalt, Princeton, March 2023.

Shaw’s piece has a lot of very interesting references; whether they are his own or come from Greenwalt I am not sure. For instance, Michael Crichton; I am of the generation that belatedly discovered a fascination for the Jurassic and recall being very open to the possibility of dinosaur DNA being preserved in fossilized mosquitos or the like – and was absolutely terrified of velociraptors. And I also took notice of those first reports – from not so very many years ago – that dinosaurs had, not only beautiful plumage’, but colorful ones as well! Here are some nice pages at the University of Bristol, where some of the leading paleontologists in the field are stationed. And to stretch the powers of the imagination even further:

Shaw also points to a piece by Francis Gooding in the LRB (Vol. 41 No. 1 · 3 January 2019) which discusses Stephen Brusatte’s 2018 best seller The Rise and Fall of the Dinosaurs.

Then there are the long ago ‘fossil’ observations of one Athanasius Kircher, who I came upon during a reading of Daniel Kehlmann’s novel Tyll a few years ago, and his and Steno’s struggles to reconcile there observations in the natural world with their Christian faith. (I actually have in my possession at this time an academic collection of writings about Kircher which I may be inspired to dip into.)

And, in the not so natural world, Shaw mentions another abiding interest of mine: the struggle to come to terms with a colourful past that is contrary to the long accepted white aesthetic. New to me that a landsman should be one of those.

Thank God and every other god there is
That time is an aesthete
Who strips the colours from the Parthenon.
We are left, were it not
For the play of shadow,
With the acres and square miles
Of Fuseli’s white ghost-flesh
But it beats the polychromatic
Crap out of the Disneyland
That antiquity once was.
[lines 845-854] The River in the Sky, Clive James, 2018.

One may think we are talking about two very different things here – science and art, if you will – but Liam Shaw in the conclusion to his article says: ‘Like sculptures, fossils need curators.’ And, seemingly echoing the sentiments of Greenwalt, that, faced with ever newer technologies, ‘Extracting new information from old fossils is a question of knowing what to look for – but it’s also a question of knowing when to stop.’

Catharine Macaulay

Catharine Macaulay (née Sawbridge pub. 1764 © National Portrait Gallery, London

Yes, I did say I was done with family ties! But then along came Catherine Macaulay in an LRB piece by Colin Kidd (Vol. 45 No. 17 · 7 September 2023). No, she is not related to Lord Macaulay who is the great-uncle of G. M(acaulay). Trevelyan. What all did have in common, though, were their ambitious writing down of the ‘big’ histories of a (then) ‘big’ England. And this Catharine did so well before those blokes – in a multi-volume affair written over twenty years titled The History of England from the Accession of James I to the Revolution (1763-1783). (Only much later came Lord (Th. Babington) Macaulay also making it to five volumes with his The History of England from the Accession of James the Second (1848) and Trevelyan, of course writing in the first half of the 20th century, had diverse titles to his credit but could also not resist a History of England in 1928, and in one tome.)

Kidd’s review of Catharine Macaulay: Political Writings edited by Max Skjönsberg for the Cambridge University Press series of Texts in the History of Political Thought comes for me as a wonderful introduction. Encouraged to look around, I discern some sense of renewed interest in Macaulay, and it is hardly surprising; for, however well-situated, however intelligent, the horizon for a woman in the 18th century was far and her opportunities limited in scope and only those with the most pertinacious of character and originality of thought have left their mark.

For further information, the Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy has a lengthy entry, which interestingly mentions the “Blue Stockings” portrait (above r.) in which Catharine Macaulay is seated left beneath Apollo and behind her stands, with goblet in hand, Hannah More whose acquaintanceship and name was to live on (via Zachary) in that other Macaulay/Trevelyan tribe. Further, a first taste of her original voice can be read at the Online Library of Liberty (new to me!) in a text written in 1790 (in response to Edmund Burke) on republicanism and the Revolution in France.

Very British families all…

these Trevelyans & Gladstones

From The Observer (via The Guardian website), a report that members of the Gladstone family – that is, descendants of Sir John Gladstone – will travel in the next days to Guyana to apologize for their historical involvement in slavery in the region and, presumably, offer some reparations. The Guardian wouldn’t of course be The Guardian if it didn’t immediately shift the focus from Sir John to his son, William (UK Prime Minister on no less than four occasions in the last half of the 19th century), and thereby to the UK government – Liberal, Tory what’s the difference? – and the Royal Family but of course! Fair enough, on their (that is, The Guardian’s) part – though so bleedin’ obvious.

In his earlier parliamentary years, the younger Gladstone appears not to have been critical of the plantation and slave system in the Caribbean nor his family’s involvement, and, whilst he accepted the 1833 Abolition of Slavery Act, he did so only on the proviso of a gradual emancipation (in their best interest, of course! – a viewpoint more than just paternalistic, rather coming from a place we would recognize as based on racist assumptions) and the adequate compensation of slave owners (of which his father became a prominent beneficiary). Later, as Prime Minister, his record is more mixed – on one hand he seems to have ’emancipated himself’ from his father by supporting international trade reforms that prioritized anti-slave companies, on the other, during the American Civil War, his support of the Union effort was tepid (he presumably thought the Confederacy would win). When it’s all said and done though, it would be fair to conclude that William Gladstone had more moral character than his father.

That, a digression, off the top of my head and with a quick – very quick – internet search; not terribly satisfactory but to continue I would need to do a more thorough research into the political history of the UK during this period and, more specifically, the anti-slavery movement and its consequences for the greater politic. I will say though that I find it commendable that there is a generation living now, and beyond academia, taking familial baggage upon themselves. Whose to say – and I can not presume to, only to wonder out loud – where self-interest in terms of reputation and the psychological burden of history – the sins of the fathers – ends and genuine moral atonement begins. And it is not just the Gladstones: of course the Windsors and all its preceding and related nomenclatures (the King has stated his support of a review into the Crown’s responsibilities); the Harewood/Lascelles (an unusual making good described here); The Guardian ‘family’; but, also, for instance, the Trevelyan family with whom I have found myself spending time of late.

Earlier this year, members of the Trevelyan family traveled to Grenada to apologize for its historic ownership of slaves and for the compensation it received in the wake of the abolition of slavery. One of those was the former BBC journalist, Laura Trevelyan, and her report on the event can be read here. Presumably their family’s involvement in the dark side of colonialism, is all very new to its members, and only came to light when two of them (John Dower and Humphrey Trevelyan) were trawling a database. What information it was, and from whom, instigated the family’s investigation after all this time is not divulged, but one can presume it was externally motivated. Certainly, it is only relatively recently that academia – and a new generation of academics – have forced the issue in a big way. (And the media has played its part – something like this, for instance, which makes mention of the stately home gifted to the National Trust by C.P Trevelyan.) And, I don’t suppose it matters. But ignorance does matter. Granted, no PM in their tree like in the Gladstone’s, but a Trevelyan did ‘kind of’ invent the modern civil service of the nineteenth century, and they are an extraordinarily storied British family. Seriously, why, given the privileges many of them still have to this day, did so few in the family previously have much of an interest in their forebears? Well, perhaps not, but … In her introduction to a book she wrote about her family in 2006, titled A Very British Family, at least Laura Trevelyan outs herself in genealogical ignorance and moves to rectify this. But, it should be said, she must not have delved too deep. I have only browsed her book (I would warrant, knowing what she knows now, she may like it to disappear), but from what I can see, slavery comes to the fore only in the positive context of abolitionism and the Clapham Sect. And, more broadly, colonialism gets somewhat of a pass. (Diverging, nor does she seem to have come across Gertrude, but then Trevelyan’s focus was on her immediate family.)

Having started with the Gladstones, I will end with them in union with the Trevelyans in the latter half of the 19th century. Sir George Otto Trevelyan (the father of C.P, R.C. & G.M), though a generation or so younger, was in fact a constant in William Gladstone’s government(s) throughout much of his long period(s) in office, but was not born at the time the young parliamentarian Gladstone argued as an apologist for his father and other plantation and slave owners (the Trevelyan family, for instance) and their right to compensation in the wake of abolition. Two men bound politically, but also bound by their respective family interests. It reminds one how very resilient family loyalties are – whether emotional or mercenary or both – and how very often they trump reason and seek to mitigate great injustices. One could say nobody should have to pay for the sins of the fathers, but those very bonds, and the acceptance of them, suggests otherwise – inheritance can not be selective, it’s all or nothing.

Keeping the dream alive

Today is the 60th anniversary of the March on Washington (for Jobs and Freedom). The extraordinary visuals and atmospherics of that hot summer day, now long ago, in the nation’s capital – the warmth emanating from that place and the crowds that filled it, the affirmation to a faith that had sustained, the richness of words and music reaching its crescendo in the “I have a dream” speech delivered by Dr. Martin Luther King (Jr.) before the Lincoln Memorial – are the stuff of which legends are made. In the air was hope rather than despair, a promise of better days. A dream for all ages.

Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.’s “I Have a Dream” speech, delivered on Aug. 28, 1963, on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial.

What remains all these years on? The sonorous tones of Dr. King and Mahalia Jackson, imbued with the words and music according to any Gospel, soar today as then, but humanity without hope is a humanity not fulfilling its promise, and for many peoples, in all corners of the world, that is the reality. On this day to recognize that that reality still applies to many Black people living in the most powerful nation on the earth can fill one only with anger – and it especially must do so for just those people; for they the descendants in spirit of the multitudes who would have left Washington that day sixty years ago infused with Dr. King’s dreams, his lyrical words ringing in their ears. It is the legacy of each generation to embrace the spirit of that day and, in each, in their own way keep those dreams alive.

That, a lesson in positivity, now …

The year after the march, the Civil Rights Act (1964) was signed into law, but in 1967 Martin Luther King, Jr.’s dreams seemed as far from fulfillment as ever, impelling him to deliver the below embedded speech at Stanford University – sometimes titled “The Other America”. Startling, to me, is the extent to which King’s disillusionment has grown in the passing of so few years. No longer does he feel convinced that alone the good will and essential kindness of many will win over the day, rather that the few (or just as many) are embedded so deep in the power structures and institutions of the nation that a more radical approach is demanded. Eloquently he deconstructs the so-called “white backlash”; as if it describes some kind of reasonable reaction to the realignment of society brought about by civil rights and the accompanying activism (and militantism) when it was, in fact, a response triggered by inherent racial animosity.

Martin Luther King, Jr. at Stanford University on April 14, 1967

“I Have a Dream” is beautiful. Tragically, “The Other America” is closer to the reality. A year later on April 4, 1968, Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated in Memphis, Tennessee.

In the Spring of ’48

Christopher Clark has a new book. As I have read and enjoyed two of his previous works ( Iron Kingdom on the rise and fall of the Prussians, and The Sleepwalkers which offers a new perspective of how World War One was sought of stumbled into), I will certainly be reading Clark’s newest tome, Revolutionary Spring. The things that were going down in 1848! And at 876 pages, a tome it is! Not alone for that reason, also owing to an extreme backlog of reading material, I fear I will not be getting to it for a while. But Clark’s stuff, however wonderfully written, is dense in subject matter so it is best to be prepared. To this end, here are a pair of links that will encourage.

Firstly, the best primer is probably Christopher Clark’s LRB Winter Lecture in February 2019 – embedded below; and transcribed in the magazine a couple of weeks later as “Why should we think about the Revolutions of 1848 now?” perhaps not verbatim but close to in Vol. 41 No. 5 · 7 March 2019. (I certainly am going to have another look at this!)

LRB Winter Lecture: Prof. Christopher Clark asks why we should think about the Revolutions of 1848 now. Recorded at the British Museum on 15 February 2019.

Then, a couple of excellent reviews: Neal Ascherson’s piece in the LRB (Vol. 45 No. 11 · 1 June 2023) and that from Harold James in Project Syndicate which is titled “The First Polycrisis”; taking up Clark’s terminology and argument of the parallels between that year of crises and our own time.