Of all the remarkable scenes in The Mysteries of London – remarkable for Mysteries is after all a Victorian novel and one of the bestselling Victorian novels, if not the bestselling novel of the 1840s – the one that takes place just after the Resurrection Man and the Cracksman convince Henry Holford to break into and scope out Buckingham Palace, though the young man has his own, nobler motivations, might be the most remarkable. We are still in the relatively early stages of the novel, but have already experienced a bewildering number of plotlines and
1 The migration mystery Caesar’s crossing that petty stream, the Rubicon, is a fact of history, whereas the crossing of the Rubicon by millions of other people before or since interests nobody at all.1 Horizons Laurie Lee’s memoir Cider with Rosie contains a marvellous evocation of life in a Gloucestershire village of the 1920s, in which he mourned the loss of the world of his childhood. With a certain poetic license he charted the end of an era of British rural life: ‘soon the village would break, dissolve and scatter’. Laurie Lee had ‘belonged to a
discussion of Gen 6:13–14, a key moment in his commentary on the Flood and the first in a series of extended comments on various aspects of the mystery of the Flood (II, 1054–66). Here, when Noah is first commanded to build the ark, Bede departs from his verse-by-verse commentary, and presents a full elaboration of his ideas on the reason the Flood was sent, the meaning of the ark and the importance of Noah
Delamotte examines the representation of race in Pauline Hopkins‘s Hagar‘s Daughter (1901/2). She argues that the novel provides a revision of the Female Gothic and also exploits narrative devices familiar from detective fiction. The solving of the ‘mystery’ that lies at the heart of the novel is one which explodes the ideological ‘mystery’, and the national crime of slavery, which separates Black and White, masculine and feminine, home and state, and African American and Euro-American families.
Socialism, suffering, and religious mystery 9 •• Socialism, suffering, and religious mystery: Margaret Harkness and Olive Schreiner Angharad Eyre In 1888, in To-day, Margaret Harkness published an allegory, ‘The Gospel of Getting On’, which suggested that socialists were the only true nineteenth-century Christians. She dedicated the allegory to Olive Schreiner, the South African author famous for The Story of An African Farm (1883), whom she had met during the 1880s in London. Harkness encountered Schreiner’s writing within a wider context of a society that
And yet I had a terror of her robes, And chiefly of the veils that from her brow Hung pale, and curtain’d her in mysteries (John Keats, ‘The Fall of Hyperion’, 1818) 1 At the end of the twentieth century and the beginning of
mystery of the world is the visible, not the invisible.’ 54 The dandy is not ‘shallow’ in the conventional sense but rather a philosopher of the visible; he wears his intellect on his sleeve. For Wilde, this stance leads to the elevation of the critic over the artist, the self-sufficient being who perfects himself being superior to one who merely creates other objects. Moers concludes, ‘The dandy
1 The ‘Fetter Hill mystery’: the strange death of Harry Pace The most remarkable woman in England The strange death of Harry Pace The path to Beatrice’s raucous acquittal had its starting point at a lonely farmhouse in Fetter Hill, a hamlet of scattered houses ‘on the fringe of the primitive Forest of Dean’ a few miles from the market town of Coleford.1 The Forest of Dean – between the Severn and Wye rivers – was noted for the distinctive culture of its residents, the ‘Foresters’. Although much of the Forest belonged to the monarch directly, the inhabitants
the presence of the spots on the moon; he is also referred to in Inferno XX, 126, where he is used as a periphrasis indicating the moon. 14 Reference to the ‘branded moon’ can also be found in Beckett’s poem ‘Alba’ (1929), where Dante is explicitly mentioned: before morning you shall be here and Dante and the Logos and all strata and mysteries and the branded moon beyond the white plane of music that you shall establish here before
The essay explores Ann Radcliffe‘s complex notion of sensibility in The Mysteries of Udolpho (1794) and considers the relationship between the servant class and the young Emily St Aubert. It is argued that the servants’ deployment of the comic Gothic moderates and qualifies Emily‘s heightened sensibility and facilitates her fashioning herself as a woman whose actions are informed by a working together of sensibility and reason, rather than an unquestioning trust in superstition. The comic mode, in that regard, serves as an important element in the development of Emily‘s personality and highlights the dangers of too excessive an indulgence of refined sensibility.