Thursday 16 October 2014

Commonplace 11 - George & His Circle: Brother Algernon: The Troubled Third Child.


Biographers are generally unkind to George's brother, Algernon. Born on November 25th 1860, younger by 3 years than George, and 2 younger than William, he was the baby of the boys, and the third child. There were, of course, two younger sisters.

The Baby Boy.
Alg seems to be the one singled out as an 'also ran' in life, unable to reach his potential (or, if reached it was a woefully mediocre form of potential), underachieving and unremarkable, a drain on George's finances and a failed, unimaginative writer of cheap, unsaleable novels. But, is this fair? What should we take into consideration when assessing Algernon?

From the small group snapshot we have of the three boys, with Algernon in the 'throne' chair, and George and William in attendance, Algernon has all the look of a tipsy cherub hampered by both wind and mumps.

Psychologist Karl Konig was born in 1902; he founded the Camphill Movement near Aberdeen in Scotland, as a community for people with special educational needs, who would benefit from residential and occupational activities in a sheltered setting. In 1958, Konig published a book: 'Brothers and Sisters: the order of birth in the family'. It suggests the order of birth determines almost as much of our personality as does gender; others had put forward similar theories, notably Alfred Adler, the student of Freud. Adler is responsible for the concept  of the 'inferiority complex' - I will return to this another time and explore George and his IC.

Algernon was the third born, and, according to Konig, the first and second children are a double act team; the third is an outcast; loneliness dogging his steps, as his older brothers leave him out of their games and turn on him. By the time the third comes along, the novelty of children has worn off in the parents, and so they hardly notice the third child feeling he has to stand alone and fight his own battles - usually against his older siblings. The third child will try and infiltrate into the gang of two, but he has to have special qualities to achieve it. The third boy will always feel inadequate and inferior, no matter what he achieves. He feels people look down on him and tolerate him, rather than value him. He is forever trying to see where he fits, but accepts that fitting in is impossible. These children become secretive and insular, and often live lives apart from their siblings. He sets himself unachievable aims and rarely fulfils his potential, feels misunderstood, and require delicate handling to maintain psychological equilibrium. Third borns tend to rush into new ventures and not think things through - so disappointment follows them. They set too high a bar for themselves and end up with a lowering of self esteem -  however, they have a tendency to optimism and career on, regardless. On a positive note: third borns tend to be much loved playmates out of the family unit, who draw down sympathy from all they meet, and allow themselves to be cossetted. They have learned to use their interpersonal skills to charm everyone, and are usually affectionate and kind-hearted. They have close relationships, often being the closer to their parents in old age, when their two older rivals are out of the way.

Three Wise Siblings
Konig makes an interesting point, which may have bearing on Algernon: when there is the loss of either of the older siblings, the third goes up a rank and takes the place of the second born. However, this causes such inner turmoil that the whole psychic picture is defocused. Thirds can never aspire to be higher until necessity forces their hand - but they feel inadequate to the task, and all their efforts in the new role appear to them as shams. Acute psychic crises can result, that leave the newly-instated 'second' (in Alg's case, he took over from William) in perpetual insecurity and low confidence.

We know Alg was slightly looked down on by George and William - two would-be sophisticated aspiring 'man of the world' types who no doubt teased their younger brother in the way elder brothers do in the average family. Nothing serious; nothing that came between them as adults. William's dismissive remarks about Alg's head being 'obtuse as ever', we know Alg was not the sharpest of the boys. However, he must have done reasonably well at school to consider reading for the bar exams.

And, here is Algernon's second great challenge.

A Lawyer with a Jailbird Brother.
Would you employ a solicitor if you knew his brother was a convicted thief? Would anyone in Wakefield in the 1880s? In the relatively small gene pool of Yorkshire legal eagles, the story of George's time in prison may have been discussed. It certainly would have been in Wakefield and Alderley Edge. Biographers never really do justice to this experience for the Gissing siblings - the focus on what the fall did to George is always the main reason for considering it. But, the shame of it - the humiliation of being related to a common thief, a petty thief who stole from his peers, who was no better than the rough boys they had not been allowed to mix with - how could William and Algernon rise above this? William was lucky to be trusted by the bank - though applying for a job away from Wakefield afforded him some anonymity. Maybe he got the job via friends of friends - (George hated 'jobbery' as he called it but made use of when he could). George's crimes tainted all his family, but the boys, in particular, dealing with money and legal affairs, would have been over-compensating their honesty to demonstrate they were not like their older brother. And if their employers knew about George's crimes, well, then the two boys would have been constantly surveilled - the down side to Darwinism and the concept of inherited traits.


Whatever the state of his health, and wherever he worked, William did not go home to live - he remained on the edges of the scene away from gossip in Yorkshire. Algernon had to brazen it out for longer. Hopefully, the topic was eventually dropped; but, the stain remained - every move watched for signs of the cancer of dishonesty coming out in him. He was contaminated by his elder brother's crime, and would have had to rise above the shame of knowing his neighbours knew - because bad news will out. Is it any wonder he could not make a living as a legal representative? And, what did it do to his self esteem? His chances in life were harshly affected by George's wrongdoing; no wonder he fell into depressions and periods of inertia and creative impotence (I am talking about Alg but it applies to George, too). We know how fearful the Gissings were of being considered 'low' - well, they really were, if they took after the eldest boy - some might say. Of course, close family friends like the Hicks would not be thinking this, but the sort of people who maybe thought the Gissings were toffee-nosed, stuck up snobs were glad to see them fall. And think of poor Alg having to look at the judge and think of his brother.

Algernon married and had children, and though he didn't write the Great British Novel, and many of his dreams went, no doubt, unrealised, he doesn't deserve the opprobrium of biographers who can't 'walk a mile in his shoes'. When George chose to steal, he compromised the good name of an extended group of people - and yet, George is always seen as the victim. For shame. No wonder he paid off his conscience with dribs and drabs of money paid to Algernon - having possibly robbed him of a chance at a career that paid, poor Alg had little choice but to accept what he was given.


George wrote to Algernon with this advice: 'Keep apart, keep apart, and preserve one's soul alive - that is the teaching for the day. It is ill to have been born in these times, but one can make a world within a world'. Luckily, Algernon didn't listen to this prototype existentialist malarkey, and led a relatively normal kind of life.








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