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