Wednesday, December 30, 2015

October influences

Fair and bright dawned the first of October! The fierce chilling blast has sung a fit requiem to the infernal September; with its cloudy wings it has taken its eternal flight — may such another never revisit poor people so helplessly exposed to its dreary influences!  December 1851 Scenes Beyond the Western Border; and Scenes and Adventures in the Army
This has been a true October day — delightful and magnificent October! — and with but little of the high wind, which here so generally prevails.  --January 1852 Scenes Beyond the Western Border; and Scenes and Adventures in the Army
Photo Credit: Quincy Koetz - The Pursuit of Life
Although the month was November, the day was in character an October one—cool, clear, bright, intoxicatingly invigorating; one of those days peculiar to the ripest hours of our American Autumn. This weather must have had much to do with the spontaneous enthusiasm which seized the troops—  --Battle-Pieces and Aspects of the War
Melville's note on typical October weather is to this line in his Civil War poem, "Chattanooga":
A kindling impulse seized the host
Inspired by heaven's elastic air;
In the January 1852 installment of Scenes Beyond the Western Border, the "true October" weather brings out the "philosopher" in the Captain, as he explains while talking and riding with his Imaginary Friend:
I. F.—" Very interesting, this dry grass and frost! Has the idea of home banished me from your thoughts?"

—"Ah, no! I am a bit of a philosopher; and take this October marching very kindly— particularly, after thawing of a morning and riding ahead, I kill a grouse occasionally with my pistol."

Sunday, December 20, 2015

G. P. R. James, again

No need to claim Herman Melville wrote this 1850 review of G. P. R. James's novel The Old Oak Chest. For one thing, the cheap shot at the end (James's latest should have been called "Much Ado about Nothing") sounds forced and a bit meaner than Melville liked to be in print. That "Mr. Shakespeare" there in the last paragraph reminds me more of Evert Duyckinck's usage of "one John Milton"--when in the course of reviewing Moby-Dick, Duyckinck was being mean to Melville. Melville himself chose to call the Bard "Master William Shakespeare" in his review of Hawthorne two months later for the same Literary World.  On the other hand, the very idea of "christening books" seems Melvillean enough, not to mention the clever critique of sentences "dipped in a starch cup, and dried stiff." Whoever the writer, my point here is we're in Melville's literary and social back yard. If he didn't write the 1850 review he knows and parties with the person who did.

In those days the universal joke about G. P. R. James concerned his ever-present "two horsemen." The anonymous reviewer--let's call him Evert--alludes to the old joke, then further acknowledges as distinctive trademarks James's "verbiage," his plodding, monotonous prose, and ho ho! the habit his characters have of repeating "the beginning of each speech." 

"We find the same verbiage, the same measured sentences, seeming to have been dipped in a starch cup, and dried stiff. The same repetition of the beginning of each speech, as if the speaker, having made a baulk at the start, trotted back for a fresh tap of the drum."  --The Literary World No. 179 - July 6, 1850
The metaphor if I have it right is of the author as drum major, and fictional personae as soldiers that muster when called by the military "tap of the drum." As shown in a previous Dragooned post, one of the dialogues on books and authors in "Scenes Beyond the Western Border" features an extended criticism of G. P. R. James. In that January 1852 dialogue, the Captain's Imaginary Friend (I. F. for short) makes the same point (though without the drum-tap) as the anonymous Literary World reviewer did in 1850 about the tendency of James's characters to repeat themselves at the start of their speeches.
I. F. — James has an extraordinary habit of making his spokesmen repeat the first sentence of their speeches, thus — "I don't know, sir; I don't know, sir," — "That's a pity — that's a pity !" Since I have noticed it, it always makes me nervous!
--Scenes Beyond the Western Border, January 1852; and Scenes and Adventures in the Army
In "Israel Potter" (1854) Melville would make James's quirk of repeating speech into a characteristic mannerism of King George III:
Waiting a moment, till the man was out of hearing, the king again turned upon Israel.

"Were you at Bunker Hill?—that bloody Bunker Hill —eh, eh?"

"Yes, sir."

"Fought like a devil—like a very devil, I suppose?”

"Yes, sir."

"Helped flog—helped flog my soldiers?”

"Yes, sir; but very sorry to do it."

"Eh?—eh?—how's that?"

"I took it to be my sad duty, sir."

"Very much mistaken—very much mistaken, indeed. Why do ye sir me?—eh? I'm your king—your king."

"Sir," said Israel firmly, but with deep respect, "I have no king."
--Melville's "Israel Potter" in Putnam's Monthly Magazine - August 1854

Saturday, December 19, 2015

Don't get too deep

via North Dakota Geological Survey

Inviting discussion of Geology on the Isle of Fossils, King Media warns Babbalanja:
 "Philosopher, probe not too deep."  --Melville's Mardi (1849)
On the same subject, in a similarly plain-speaking role as representative realist, the Captain's imaginary friend "Frank" in "Scenes Beyond the Western Border" would also steer the talk away from useless profundity:
F. "Bah! your modern geognosy is a humbug! or, too deep at least, for a wandering dragoon. --Scenes Beyond the Western Border, August 1852; and
Scenes and Adventures in the Army, p359
In the previous installment, July 1852, the Captain self-consciously began to try out different writing styles for different readers--romantics first, then realists--but stopped himself before getting "too deep" in the experiment:
" Whom then shall I address? — the mock sentimentalist? and begin the day: 'Our slumbers this morning were gently and pleasantly dissolved by the cheerful martins, which sang a sweet reveille with the first blush of Aurora, at our uncurtained couches.' Or the statist? 'Not a sign of buffalo to-day; it were melancholy and easy to calculate how soon the Indians, deprived of this natural resource, and ignorant of agriculture' — but I should soon get too deep.
I[maginary]. F[riend]. — But this soil is devilish shallow.  --Scenes Beyond the Western Border, July 1852; and Scenes and Adventures in the Army, p333
In the 1876 poem Clarel, Melville's easygoing clergyman Derwent tries hard to cheer up Clarel. But the young divinity student can't stop his pained and doubtful line of questioning--which makes Derwent sigh,
"Alas, too deep you dive."   --Clarel 3.21, Mar Saba/In Confidence

Friday, December 18, 2015

It's no good getting ruffled

Image Credit: Country Life - The Drawing Room's history
In Pierre; or, The Ambiguities (1852) Melville repeatedly addresses the virtue of staying calm and not getting "ruffled," especially in social conversation. Before counting them up, I did not realize the ideal of keeping oneself "unruffled" was such a favorite with Melville in Pierre: ten instances total of "ruffle" (1x) and variants "ruffled" (3x); "unruffled" (3x); "unruffledness" (2x); and the truly delightful "unruffleable" (1x). That's not counting four references to literal ruffles.
"... after directing the unruffled Dates"  --Melville's Pierre, p21
"... it must be hard for man to be an uncompromising hero and a commander among his race, and yet never ruffle any domestic brow."  --Melville's Pierre, p25
"... of the most wonderful unruffledness of temper."  --Melville's Pierre, p38
Allan Melvill
Allan Melvill / 1810 portrait by John Rubens Smith via Wikimedia Commons
"...and much liked to paint his friends, and hang their faces on his walls; so that when all alone by himself, he yet had plenty of company, who always wore their best expressions to him, and never once ruffled him, by ever getting cross or ill-natured, little Pierre."  --Melville's Pierre, p100
She was a noble creature, but formed chiefly for the gilded prosperities of life, and hitherto mostly used to its unruffled serenities; bred and expanded, in all developments, under the sole influence of hereditary forms and world-usages. --Melville's Pierre, p120
  "... in some other hour of unruffledness or unstimulatedness...."
--Melville's Pierre, p309
"He has translated the unruffled gentleman from the drawing-room into the general levee of letters...."  --Melville's Pierre, 334-5
Not seldom Pierre's social placidity was ruffled by polite entreaties from the young ladies that he would be pleased to grace their Albums with some nice little song. We say that here his social placidity was ruffled; for the true charm of agreeable parlor society is, that there you lose your own sharp individuality and become delightfully merged in that soft social Pantheism, as it were, that rosy melting of all into one, ever prevailing in those drawing-rooms, which pacifically and deliciously belie their own name; inasmuch as there no one draws the sword of his own individuality, but all such ugly weapons are left—as of old—with your hat and cane in the hall. --Melville's Pierre, p341
"And with his unruffleable hilariousness, Millthorpe quitted the room."
--Melville's Pierre, p435
As a matter of vocabulary the theme of staying unruffled is clearly, for Melville, a preoccupation of 1851-2 when he was writing Pierre. After Pierre Melville was done with ruffles in his prose writings, except with reference to fabric or bodies of water. Two instances occur in Typee, none in Omoo, one instance in Mardi, none in Redburn, none in White-Jacket, one in Moby-Dick, and then none that I can find in Israel Potter; The Piazza Tales; The Confidence-Man; and Billy Budd.

Scenes Beyond the Western Border, August 1852:
F. "Bah! your modern geognosy is a humbug! or, too deep at least, for a wandering dragoon. Now, would you go about determining the age of the formation from your knowledge of the shell? or give it physiological gradation from your profound knowledge of superposition of strata?"

C. "The former, if I only knew it. You will allow me at least, on your own recommendation to note the fact in my journal?"

F. "Of course; but with becoming modesty. It is enough to ruffle one, to have such a long word thrust at him, of a pleasant summer evening, and a thousand miles from a library."

C. "But, good heavens! do not condemn a word for its length. Paleontology is an almost poetical triumph, which throws an attractive grace over the sterility of geognostic investigations and symbols on the human tombs, which throw beams of startling light over the obscurity of fabulous antiquity,—so when we discover the traces or remains of existing, or the extinct life of the old world, their natural tombs—the fossil rocks—are monuments on which Time thus records their relative ages. It is a beautiful chronometry of the earth's surface!"
--Reprinted with significant revisions in Scenes and Adventures in the Army, p360
Related Dragooned posts:

Thursday, December 17, 2015

fossiliferous, again

Image Credit: Nicola Marshall

Introduced already in an earlier post, but this one I think deserves another look.

Writing on "The Language of Moby-Dick," Maurice S. Lee cites the word fossiliferous with other examples of Melville's "extraordinary language that is simultaneously archaic and fresh":
" 'Fossiliferous' is one of many abstruse terms that Melville lifts from specialized fields." --Maurice S. Lee in A Companion to Herman Melville (Wiley-Blackwell, 2006; paperback 2015) edited by Wyn Kelley.
Moby-Dick (1851):
"... it now remains to magnify him in an archaeological, fossiliferous, and antediluvian point of view."  --Moby-Dick, Chapter 104, The Fossil Whale
 Scenes Beyond the Western Border, August 1852:
"—all by the light of your chronological, fossiliferous, infernal shell!"
"Scenes Beyond the Western Border" (August 1852)

Significant revisions to the August 1852 dialogue on paleontology between "C." and "F." (shown above) in the 1857 book version (shown below) include: 
  1.  removing the self-reflexive allusion to the writer's journal
  2. adding the oxymoronic jokes of being "decidedly non-committal" and, later on, of having a "profound smattering" of the subject at hand (paleontology).
  3. thoroughly re-working "a thousand miles from a library" to read, "amid all the charm of a complete laisser aller in a glorious wilderness, a thousand miles from all the schools of pedantic, groping, and guessing philosophy." 
  4. deleting sentence containing the word "chronometry." 
  5. revising F. (which in the magazine version stands for "Frank") to "Friend." Similarly, all references to "I. F." for "Imaginary Friend" have been revised throughout Part II of the 1857 book version to read simply, Friend
Scenes and Adventures in the Army, page 360

Related post: