Through A Distorting
Looking-Glass
Charles Lutwidge
Dodgson's artistic interests as mirrored in his nieces' edited version of his
diaries
(by Hugues Lebailly)
In
utter contradiction of Roger Lancelyn Green's solemn
pledge, in his introduction to his 1953 edition of Charles Dodgson's private
diaries, that -
"though I have cut out a number [of entries], besides
shortening many others. My principle has been to keep every entry of literary
interest, every reference to even the least important of his works, every
mention of the books that he read, the plays that he witnessed, and the
pictures that he saw..."
--in
truth hundreds of omissions in the artistic and cultural field alone show that
the original material of the nine surviving manuscript notebooks had been
severely edited by Dodgson's nieces Violet Dodgson and Frances Menella Dodgson when they prepared the typescript that
Green was allowed to reproduce.
No
fewer than 13 % of the books C. L. Dodgson read [32 out of 242], 20 % of the
plays he witnessed [139 out of 683], 65 % of the concerts he heard [79 out of
121], 53 % of the light entertainments he attended [18 out of 34], 40 % of the
exhibitions he visited [87 out of 215], and 15 % of the individual sculptures
and paintings he singled out [44 out of 293] were omitted from the first
printed version of his diary, together with 199 mentions of or judgments passed
on the impersonations of actors and actresses of all ages out of 870 [about 23
%].
Moreover,
these figures only give an account of the total suppressions affecting that
field, to which should be added hundreds of partial quotations, leaving out
part of the original text.
Whereas
some of these gaps could easily be explained by the natural weariness of two
ladies well into their seventies, encouraging them to curtail the immense task
they had set themselves, other cuts, systematically affecting certain
references, obviously proceeded from Violet and Frances Menella's
deliberate concern, often ill-directed in its obsolete Victorianism, to reflect
a refined image of their uncle as the ideal embodiment of universal
benevolence, innocence and purity.
This
highly questionable though well-meaning purpose was nowhere more obvious than
in their extremely awkward handling of their uncle's expressions of interest in
mature as well as immature members of the fair sex: but, whereas most of his
words of praise for the former were ruthlessly censored, his indisputable
fascination for the latter was dealt with far less consistently.
Nowhere
was this more obvious than in C. L. Dodgson's reports of the photographic
sessions during which some of his childfriends posed
in the nude. Whereas about two thirds were edited out of the 1953 publication,
others were included in full, and vague mentions of 'life studies' were
laboriously elucidated by interpolated "[i. e.
in the nude]" or "[i. e. in their
'favourite dress of nothing']." between square brackets, as if the better
to expose what had been previously hidden.
However
short and sparse they were, those few allusions were glaring enough to launch
on the track of the 'paedophile photographer' a pack of scandal-thirsty
journalists and pun-labouring biographers, like Brassai
and his 'Lolitas' Blue-Beard', and it is hard to make
out why hagiographic scissors, having performed three-fourths of the task set
to them, would have stopped short early enough to condemn their efforts to such
pathetic ineffectiveness.
It
seems much more likely that such wavering should be put down to Violet and Frances
Menella's deeply Victorian faith in pre-Freudian
conceptions of the child as a sexless pure angel, and hence to their sincere
reluctance to suppress all references to an aspect of their uncle's personality
they must have deemed perfectly innocent, and more attractive than repulsive.
What
they found much more difficult to cope with was the plentiful evidence, offered
by other entries, of C. L. Dodgson's attendance at and enjoyment of what they
considered as coarse performances starring young pert actresses, as well as of
the favourable impression various adult female nudes produced on him: proof of
such vulgar tastes looked to them far more scandalous, and they suppressed it
in a much more consistent and systematic way, unaware that they were thus reinforcing
and confirming the already too widespread view of 'Lewis Carroll' as a
monomaniac perverse.
From
the "charming" Florence St John who was the gem of Madame Favart and Lurette to the
"very pretty" parodist of Mary Eastlake, a Miss F. Hastings; from
Maud Millett and Annie Hughes he described as "two beauties [who] would
alone have made [The Middleman ] worth seeing" to Ellaline
Terriss and Decima Moore,
whose singing and dancing in A Pantomime Rehearsal he found
"fascinating"; from Miss Millward,
"most winning in The May Queen " or Miss Gwynne Herbert, "very
pretty" in Devil-May-Care, to Annie Hill, the "charming" heroine
of Sweet Lavender , Ellen Goss and her "wonderful 'serpentine' dance"
in La Cigale, or Hilda Rivers, who looked "very
pretty" in Love in Idleness , one can draw a very impressive list of all
those actresses, well out of childhood, whose grace and beauty seduced C. L.
Dodgson, though the reader of the 1953 edition of his diaries could know
nothing about them, either because the comic operas and other light pieces in
which they appeared - often adapted from the French - were not respectable
enough to escape the old ladies' scissors, or because his too favourable
comments on them were crossed by a vengeful pencil from a paragraph that was
only allowed to be printed in an expurgated version.
Instances
of similar omissions abound too in C. L. Dodgson's comments on the fine art
exhibitions he visited, and it was consistently when he praised adult female
nudes that the censoring of his impressions was most drastic.
Convinced
perhaps through their readings of John Ruskin that William Mulready
was the most "degraded and bestial" artist of the first half of the
century, and that the collection of his 'life studies' gathered in 1864 at
Kensington Museum were "of all pieces of art [...] quite the most vulgar,
and, in the solemn sense of the word, abominable", Violet and Frances Menella ruthlessly barred out of his timetable of April 6th
1864 the visit C. L. Dodgson paid to it, in the highly respectable company of
his friend Thomas Vere Bayne's mother, and it is most
likely to their biblical theme that we owe the mention of his admiration for
"three very large [pictures] by Etty, [...]
illustrations of the history of Judith" he enjoyed as much as Joseph Noel
Paton's diptych on Oberon and Titania, when he
examined the collection of modern works at the Edinburgh National Gallery in
1857.
They
would very likely have excluded any other subject by that other 'obscene'
painter, "the most disagreeable of English artists" according to
Nathaniel Hawthorne, who detected in him "a diseased appetite for woman's
flesh", and condemned him for spening his life
depicting odalisques "with enormously developed busts [...], really
thrusting their nudity upon you with malice aforethought."
Nothing
but their ignorance of the exact content of some of the pictures C. L. Dodgson
paid a brief tribute to can account for the presence of Dante Gabriel
Rossetti's 'Venus Verticordia', Edwin Long's 'The
Search for Beauty' and 'The Chosen Five', or Frederic Leighton's 'Psamathe' and 'Crenaia' in their
typescript. None of the works being referred to by its title in the short
entries where they appeared, their precise identification would have required
an artistic culture and an availability for scholarly
research the two copyists were equally deprived of, in their hurry to have done
with the colossal task they had set themselves.
Long's
diptych, depicting two successive steps in the Greek sculptor Zeuxis's quest
for five models worthy of lending some of their beauty to his ideal Venus,
coming second to his 'Anno Domini' among C. L. Dodgson's favourite pictures at
the 1893 Edwin Long Gallery, had its pagan theme so redeemed by the holy
proximity of the famous 'flight into Egypt', that Violet and Frances Menella seemed unconscious it came from the very brush of
the master of picturesque exoticism who had perpetrated the scandalous
'Babylonian Slave Market'.
Leighton's
works, hardly better known half a century ago than Long's, appeared within
narratives of C. L. Dodgson's flattering private receptions at the President of
the Royal Academy's prestigious house, which obviously could not be left out
without harming his social image. Moreover, Leighton's uncompleted 'Crenaia' was merely mentioned as a curiosity, "a
female figure which look[ed] very queer [...], as the (unfinished) drapery only
reach[ed] to the waist", and the quasi-telegraphic style used by Dodgson
to describe his 'Psamathe', "a sort of 'Hero' on
the shore (nude figure, seated, back view)" in no way pointed to the
fullness of her generous figure, worthy of a Rubens, which F. G. Stephens
described as "exuberant, and therefore not severe in their character, [...]
studied from the life, and [...] less classical than those usually affected by
Sir F. Leighton", a sight that should have been repulsive to a C. L.
Dodgson exclusively addicted to the slender outlines of pre-pubescent girls !
Just
as unexpected, his enthusiasm over Dante Gabriel Rossetti's 'Venus Verticordia' was nevertheless reasserted on his two
successive visits to the ill-reputed painter's studio: in June 1864, the
picture was still unfinished when he judged it would certainly be "very
beautiful". One year later, the completed work again met with his approval
when, in Swinburne's presence, the artist showed him "many beautiful
pictures, two quite new: the bride going to meet the bridegroom (from Solomon's
Song) and Venus with a background of roses." Once again, the biblical
reference appended to 'The Beloved' came just where needed to temper the
alluring sensuousness of the pagan goddess, Rossetti's single bare-breasted
'stunner', whose gaze looks straight into the viewer's eyes in a provocative
way.
Even
if C. L. Dodgson had only been confronted, on that second visit, with a
watercolour version R. L. Megroz deemed "rather
sentimental [and] quite inoffensive, which is more than one can say about the
oil", that "tall, massively-built [Venus], no spiritual goddess of
beauty", of whom F. G. Stephens wrote that "she reck[ed] not of the soul" and that "there [was] more
of evil than of good in her" should have aroused 'Lewis Carroll''s reprobation and disgust, had his personality
been so unidimentional as usually alleged.
That
such disconcerting infatuations, in full contradiction with the generally
accepted and constantly peddled view of his tastes and interests, should have
been overlooked for half a century would be difficult to account for had not
most of the other expressions of C. L. Dodgson's admiration for adult female
nudes been implacably eradicated out of the 1953 printed version then
available.
Such
was the case, for instance, of John Collier's 'Pharaoh's Handmaidens', one of
his five favourite paintings - none of which depicted little girls - at the
1883 Grosvenor Gallery, though F. G. Stephens saw in it only "three saucy
ladies of the modern ballet who ha[d] been dyed brown", whose only assets
were their "plump contours", and Cosmo Monkhouse,
who condemned their "wholly unredeemed" nudity, liked much better a
"pretty naked little girl playing with her father's palette" by a P.
R. Morris, which, paradoxically, C. L. Dodgson does not seem to have noticed.
Among
those 'unmentionable' works ranked also Jean Alexandre
Joseph Falguiere's 'Madeleine', which he praised as a
"wonderfully life-like picture", disturbing enough to make him
misattribute it to Emmanuel Benner, another French artist whose sylvan nymphs
also adorned the walls of the 1887 Bond Street exhibition of Salon pictures,
Thomas Riley's 'After the Chase', shown at Burlington House in 1888, which he
remembered with pleasure as "a beautiful 'nude' study", an impression
shared by F. G. Stephens who described it as "an elegant group of nude
girls, deftly designed and painted", and, most embarrassing of all, Marceli Suchorowski's 'Nana'.
That
C. L. Dodgson should have noticed Anna Lea Merritt's 'Eve', "seated, with
hands clasped round her knees, bowed head and face hidden in her hair" was
not that objectionable : the female hand that had produced it, freeing it from
any suspicion of lewdness, the biblical theme, the repentant, natural and
perfectly decent attitude of the first sinner, as well as the somewhat
sententious tone of the words that introduced its title, noticing the
"unusual number of pictures of the nude" at the 1885 Royal Academy
without necessarily deploring it, but open enough to that interpretation for
Violet and Frances Menella to read it that way if
they chose to, everything concurred in ascribing to this particular mention a
respectability his acknowledged vision of a lurid depiction of Zola's infamous
heroine could obviously not aspire to.
Not
only had the painting itself, by a Russian emigrant living in Paris named Marcelu Suchorowski, been called
by The Magazine of Art "a cheap, clever, and singularly impudent Salon
picture of the vulgarest type" and by The
Art-Journal "a revoltingly sensual picture", but it was moreover
exhibited at the Egyptian Hall in a sensational setting aimed at increasing its
success of scandal: standing by itself on an easel raised on a platform, in the
centre of a room dark enough to protect its viewers' anonymity, but also to
bring out the brilliantly lit canvas, its outrageous subject was yet enhanced
by two mirrors placed on either side of it, reflecting endlessly, as in a
brothel room, the voluptuous curves of its heroine's body. No wonder The
Magazine of Art 's critic concluded his review with a
paraphrase from the Gospel, stating that "no great work of art shuns the
light of the day; and 'Nana' appeals not so much to lovers of art as to lovers
of M. Zola's work, two very distinct divisions of mankind."
For
C. L. Dodgson to have compromised himself among the latter, even on the
ill-advised commendation of a friend of his, the actor Lionel Brough ( who was obviously aware of his interest in adult
nudes), was in itself an unforgivable faux pas that had to be concealed from
posterity; but, on top of that, the moderation of C. L. Dodgson's negative
judgement on it sharply contrasted with the indignant curse called down on it
by The Art- Journal , who wished "the authorities who look after [the
country's] morals [would at last] be roused to action" against such an
ignominious show.
C.
L. Dodgson simply wrote down that he "did not like the feeling of [this]
very life-like picture of a reclining woman, nude, except for a little drapery
covering one leg from knee to foot", and, true to his conviction that only
complete nudity could look natural, healthy and innocent, added that "it
would have been better entirely nude, but even so rather 'French' in
feeling."
Such
a degree of tolerance, highly typical of a man who was anything but the
"prudish and pernickety" average Victorian that Virginia Woolf
denounced, is yet another proof that, contrary to John Ruskin, he did not find
adult nudes shocking as such, but only when they seemed to praise the great
social evil of prostitution.
In
their zeal for erasing any trace of what they interpreted as their uncle's
occasional yielding to a perverse curiorisity, the
two old ladies in fact concealed for several decades from students of C. L.
Dodgson's life evidence of his open-mindedness and his usually denied sexual
normality, as they also did when they threw a prudish veil on his regular
attendance at the various aquatic shows performed by winsome young ladies on
Brighton's pier or at Eastbourne's Devonshire Baths.
Even
more than his description of 'Miss L. Saigeman's
Swimming Entertainment' as "a very pretty performance", it is the
fond satisfaction with which he noted it was "the first year gentlemen
ha[d] been admitted" that testified to the eagerness with which he had
taken advantage of this new opportunity to quench his thirst for legitimately
contemplating the beauty of God's most perfect creation. Such shows were to
hold a not inconsiderable place among his seaside entertainments, to the point
of attending on four occasions Miss Louey Webb's
during the summer of 1887, on the account that "she [was] 18, and as she
[was] beautifully formed, the exhibition [was] worth seeing, if only as a
picture."
A
few months before his death, he was still a devoted patron of 'Miss Saigeman's Swimming Entertainment', and ready to go to the
trouble of sailing from Eastbourne to Hastings just to applaud the feats of the
Beckwith family, featuring a girl he had indeed admired for the first time when
she was 9 in 1888, but who had by then reached the mature age of 18, and must
have nevertheless afforded him the same degree of visual pleasure as Louey ten years before.
Thus,
provided we are willing to re-examine in a new, objective light the data Violet
and Frances Menella Dodgson went into such trouble
concealing from us, which is now available to all researchers with a British
Library Manucript Students Room card, and will soon
appear wholly in print, thanks to the admirable exertions of Edward Wakeling, it is an entirely different view of Charles Lutwidge Dodgson we can catch a glimpse of, in utter
contradiction of the fussy, fastidious old-maidish don as much as of the
hypocritical sad paedophile so often described, belittled and abused.
It
would be ridiculous to reverse Kathleen Baker's abrupt statement, and pretend
that what Charles Lutwidge Dodgson did is more interesting
than what Lewis Carroll wrote. A scientific approach to the matchless amount of
information on a cultured Victorian picture-lover and theatre-goer's reception
of the works of art of his time C. L. Dodgson's diaries contain is nonetheless
a fascinating seam to work, which holds in store the unexpected discovery of a
balanced, tolerant, unconventional personality, neither more nor less fraught
with contradictions than any true Victorian intellectual ever was..
Text
taken from: http://contrariwise.cc/distort.html
(last viewed in 3rd November 2008 at 16.00 pm)
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