Friday 15 July 2016

Commonplace 191 George & His Manifest Destiny PART THREE.

George spent from September 1876 to October 1877 in the States. This was his first experience of the real world, a scary place far removed from his sheltered beginnings in Wakefield. Nothing he had experienced at private school in Cheshire, or as a student at Manchester's Owens College will have compared to the US in 1876. When he set foot in his new homeland, he was ill-equipped practically and psychologically for what he might find there. But George's self-belief was not dimmed by his experience on the wrong side of the law (and morality). He was one of those people who always think they are right, and so whatever course of action he employed was acceptable, and if the World didn't agree, then it was the World that was wrong. It wasn't until he craved recognition as a writer that the shame of being exposed as a thief and, subsequently, forever regarded as an ex-jailbird who destroyed the good name of his family in their hometown, and that he had ruined his chances for an influential place in the world of academia made his secretive nature even more guarded as he struggled to control his public persona. More than this, he struggled with the knowledge he suffered from syphilis, a disease not fully understood in his time, and one that, in an age before an effective cure was found, recurred over a lifetime to blight all intimate relationships.


Morning Scene Three Ladies c 1818
It could be argued that, in a few miserable weeks, he had fallen so low from a place so high that he never quite got over the humiliation. But that process started in the winter of 1875/6 when he made the fateful decision to supplement his already adequate income with petty theft. Like so many who break the law, he seems to have regretted being caught more than committing the crimes. 

With a letter of introduction to the renowned abolitionist, William Lloyd Garrison in his pocket George arrived in Massachusetts. In his Gissing biography, Pierre Coustillas is dismissive of Garrison and fails to do justice to the lifetime's work the man put into the battle for social justice. The old campaigner may have been in his less than imposing glory days, but his track record as a defender of the weak and a promoter of human rights deserves better treatment. George was lucky to have met such a courageous and probably the most hard-working chap he would ever meet.   

Boston in 1876 (then and now, of course) was a very sophisticated place with a rich and vibrant cultural life. George, through the contacts with William Lloyd Garrison's son, Frank, mixed with the sort of people who might offer him a leg up in the world of writing. Frank Garrison worked for the publishing house H.O. Houghton. George was already schmoozing his way round looking for anyone who might help him on his road to literary fame. He would employ the same tactics throughout his life - when he was desperate to publish his first novel, he ingratiated himself with the Positivist movement's Frederic Harrison, but quickly ditched him when useful contacts did not emerge. 


Marimaid by Mary An Willson 1820
 go check her work now! click
When George finally came by work it was found for him by friends of friends. He managed to secure a temporary teaching job, and it looked like he was set up for a new life. He lodged with Reverend Benton Smith in a private house, living as part of the family. In typical early George style, he wrote to his brother that Waltham was bedazzled by him: 'Everyone is astonished at me'. However, the recollection of one of his less than astonished pupils suggested otherwise: Most teachers are popular or unpopular, but Gissing was neither, and never the subject of ridicule. His classes were well conducted and he was most competent in conducting them', he wrote about our man. Then, suddenly and with no explanation, George ran away. 

What can have happened to make him let everyone down - all those who had supported him, vouched for him, helped him? Pierre Coustillas says in his biography: The scarcity of biographical material is too great for a definite explanation to be possible. That doesn't stop him, though. In his coverage of the incident, he starts the section with: Nell, across the Atlantic, continued to be a source of trouble through the letters she sent him. How does he know? We are always told George destroyed all her letters and there are none published for us to check if Coustillas is right. Nell is always to blame, to the Frenchman; he has an obsession with her that borders on the pathological, and Gissing studies is blighted by it. His version is always that Nell ruined George's life. No, George Gissing was never a man to be swayed by anyone unless it suited him - to say anything less is to insult him, and to wilfully misinterpret his actions. So what might have caused him to let everyone down and run off?


To quote from that Commonplace post: To Waltham folks, he was something of a curiosity, drawing down much local interest as being a former Owens College alumnus - not a good idea when you are running from your past. By March 1st 1877, already run off to America, George failed to honour the trust the new connections had placed in him and he acted entirely selfishly with scant regard for how others might feel or how it would impact their lives. Running away was to become a lifelong reflex when he lost the power of control over a situation, and it has it's beginnings in this event. 
The Lincoln Children by Susan Walters 1845


It could have been that his Manchester reputation caught up with him. That might sound far-fetched, but New England and Manchester shared many connections, both being centres of the cotton textile trade. And there were cultural connections via the thriving social movements both cities developed, where emancipation of the workforce, and the rise of civil rights were becoming established. Then there was the rise in the need for cutting edge technology in both highly industrialised centres where typical Owens College graduates - a college famed for its R&D and science teaching - might be turning up in all the wrong places. Imagine George's horror if one of his old college crowd had turned up when the locals were busy being astonished. Awkward, or what! 
Lady In A Yellow Dress by Elizabeth Glaser c1830
We are told by those who publish on George and who have seen the primary evidence that all the letters George wrote or received from February-December 1877 have not survived (hence the scarcity of biographical material, as mentioned in the first of the three volumes of biography). But that doesn't stop Pierre Coustillas filling in the gaps with his own propaganda. And it will come as no surprise to discover this involves the bane that he believes Marianne aka Nell to be. M. C makes the claim that George left Waltham in a hurry because he fell in love with another girl, Martha McCulloch Barnes, an eighteen year-old from a middle class family - one of his students - and he was afraid he might abandon Nell as a consequence. Of course, this is utter tosh. George was a serial offender when it came to abandoning those who needed him - he went on to abandon two wives and two children. I'm more inclined to think George's syphilis was emerging to present with physical signs that would make it clear why he left the UK in the first place - not to start a brave adventure, but to escape the shame for his family of having the disease. He had contracted it in his Owens College days and I would go so far as to suggest that is why he confined his sexual activity to Nell, and later, Edith, both working class girls, who would overlook (he assumed) such a flaw in a man's marital eligibility. By the time he was teaching in Waltham, he had probably been in the secondary phase for upwards of a year, and in this stage, the physical signs of facial rash and oral lesions can re-emerge at various times until the latent stage kicks in. It seems obvious that a highly shaming, visually apparent disease would ruin all George's chances of a life in Boston, and at the first sign of the infection returning, George really had no choice but to run away. 

His voyage to the West Coast never happened, but he did get to Chicago. He came back to the UK late in 1877, convinced he had it in him to become a writer. With syphilis in its latent, even tertiary phase, all physical signs of infection will have disappeared. He probably assumed he had beaten the disease - most medical books will have told him so. But he was never physically well again, and he would suffer recurring bouts of the disease which would eventually kill him. That demands sympathy - and he deserves it for that. 

FOR MORE ON GEORGE AND THE ANTHONY WEST BIOGRAPHY AND GEORGE AND SYPHILIS THIS LOOK AT COMMONPLACES 56-61 and 62-69.













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