This article considers the childrens writer Alison Uttley, and, particularly, her
engagements with debates regarding science and philosophy. Uttley is a
well-known childrens author, most famous for writing the Little Grey Rabbit
series (1929–75), but very little critical attention has been paid to her. She
is also an important alumna of the University of Manchester, the second woman to
graduate in Physics (1907). In particular, the article looks at her novel A
Traveller in Time through the lens of her thinking on time, ethics, history and
science. The article draws on manuscripts in the collection of the John Rylands
Library to argue that Uttley‘s version of history and time-travel was deeply
indebted to her scientific education and her friendship with the Australian
philosopher Samuel Alexander.
This article offers a survey of the recently discovered scrapbooks collated over a number of decades by the Yorkshirewoman Dorothy Richardson (1748–1819). The large set of thirty-five volumes presents an important collection of press cuttings relating to the history and consequences of the French Revolution, and also contains ‘historical and miscellaneous’ material of a more eclectic nature. I argue that the texts significantly improve our understanding of Dorothy Richardson’s position as a reader, writer and researcher working in the North of England at the turn of the nineteenth century. Furthermore, her set of albums raises important questions about the relationship between commonplacing and scrapbooking practices, and the capacity of such textual curatorship to function as a form of both political engagement and autobiographical expression.
Edward Verrall Lucas (1868-1938) and Francis Meynell (1891-1975) were men of
letters in the old-fashioned sense. They were indefatigable both in creating
text and bringing like matter together in new and meaningful forms. Lucas was a
journalist, anthologist and publisher. Meynell was a printer, anthologist and
publisher, and also a poet of considerable sensitivity and charm. Lucas did not
write much poetry but was passionate about its merits, and sought, through his
collections, to bring children into contact with the best of verse. Today, the
significant contributions that these men made to publishing in Britain are in
danger of becoming forgotten, relegated to the minor byways of publishing
history. This article examines the origins and connections between two hugely
successful anthologies that were inspired by a growing public interest in, and
engagement with, the English countryside.