Britain and the Narration of Travel in the Nineteenth Century: Texts, Images, Objects, edited by Kate Hill and published by Ashgate, is out now. The book offers a rich exploration of British travel to Europe, Australia, China and Africa, and looks at encounters through travel writing as well as objects such as guest books, posters, and guidebooks. My essay “‘The formation of a surface’: European travel in Charles Dickens’s Little Dorrit” reads the European journey of the Dorrit family through its articulation of borders and boundaries: from the dissolving landscapes of the Alps to the “formation of a surface” by the socially-conscious British abroad.
In the new issue of Victoriographies (4.2) I review Michael Hollington’s The Reception of Charles Dickens in Europe (Bloomsbury, 2013). It’s an impressive two-volume collection of essays with 48 international contributors covering Dickens’s reception in 28 European countries. In the review I discuss the volume’s themes of national identity, the influence of Dickens on European authors, Dickens and the visual arts, as well as the substantive publication histories assessed in different national contexts.
One final book review to finish off the year, and it’s of Churnjeet Mahn’s British Women’s Travel to Greece, 1840-1914: Travels in the Palimpsest on the FWSA blog.
Following on from the previous Bleak House post, here are links and images from the Little Dorrit class this week.
We started off with some context on the 18th century Grand Tour, and these two images as indicative of the sites and ideology behind the Grand Tour. The first image is by Pompeo Girolamo Batoni, who painted many Grand Tourists and this is typical of such paintings.
This second image is “Picture Gallery with Views of Modern Rome” by Giovanni Paolo Pannini (1759) and shows many of the popular sites of Rome that would be visited by tourists.
The travel guidebook that I showed in the lecture was a 1912 Baedeker’s Guide to Southern Italy, which I have blogged about here (and have another post on the Sardinia sections forthcoming) and there is information on the history of the guides here. I also showed this image of Cook’s tours and there’s some interesting history to the firm and you can also view some more images here.
The final two images of Venice and Rome are a 19th century view of Venice (anonymous) and an 1823 engraving of St Peter’s Basilica and Castel Sant’ Angelo by Rossini. In the extract on Rome, Dickens refers to “the celebrated Mr Eustace”, writer of A Classical Tour through Italy.
Finally, I have recorded a podcast about travel in Little Dorrit which is available here.
One of my favourite things to do of a weekend is browse the shelves of secondhand bookshops and I’ve been on a bit of a roll with old travel books in Leamington’s Oxfam Books & Music in recent weeks, which I’ll be blogging in the next few posts.
The first of my finds is a 1912 edition of a Baedeker’s handbook to Southern Italy and Sicily
Full title: Southern Italy and Sicily, with Excursions to Sardinia, Malta, and Corfu; Handbook for Travellers, with 34 Maps and 34 Plans, Sixteenth Revised Edition.
Baedeker’s handbooks, along with Murray’s Guides, were the key tourist handbooks of the 19th century, accompanying many a tourist on their travels across the continent and beyond. Although the “guidebook” had long been used to advice travellers about their journeys, the Handbook was a slightly different genre, designed as a compact edition to be carried by the traveller on their journey. The Handbook included practical information to prepare the traveller, but also set out a planned series of routes to be followed.
This is the first edition that I’ve seen up close, and it’s fascinating to see just how detailed the guide is as well as to read the surrounding material; between the two, there’s a clear tension between being a “true” independent traveller as opposed to a mere “tourist” (I am of course drawing here on James Buzard’s discussion in The Beaten Track1). The Preface informs the traveller that the aim of the Handbook is to “supply the traveller wtih some information regarding the culture, art and character of the people he is about to visit” in order to “render him as independent as possible of the services of guides and valets-de-place”.
But whilst the emphasis here is on a certain mode of “independence”, the heavily prescriped form of the Handbook is also hinted at: it is “in every way to aid him in deriving enjoyment and instruction from his tour”. The Handbook’s purpose is not just to set out the correct path to follow, but to aid the traveller in deriving the correct enjoyment from each sight – to give the traveller the lens through which to view all that he sees. As Buzard writes, handbooks “preceded the tourist, making the crooked straight and the rough places plain for the tourist’s hesitant footsteps; they accompanied the tourist on the path they had beaten, directing gazes and prompting responses” (75); Dickens’s depiction of tourists in Italy in Little Dorrit satirises the tourist’s reliance on the handbook, describing masses of tourists “walking about St. Peter’s and the Vatican on somebody else’s cork legs, and straining every visible object through somebody else’s sieve” (428).
Thus what follows are routes detailing exactly where to walk, what to look at, and even the timings of each stage: “from the piazza in front of the cathedral we proceed to the S. straight through a gateway, then ascend through the porch of the church of Sant’Antonio, pass the portal of the church of Santa Chiara to the left, and reach (8 min.) a door giving on the road.” This level of detail constitutes most of the book’s 500 pages, such that there almost seems little point to actually visiting the place itself!
The same can be said of the cultural attitudes of the English towards foreigners displayed throughout. The particular strength of feeling against Italians is demonstrated right from the start: the first paragraph of the Preface ends by stating “the Handbook will also, it is hoped, save the traveller many a trial of temper; for probably nowhere in Europe is the patience more severely taxed than in some parts of Italy.” In the section giving practical advice, stereotypes of Italians abound: it is noted that begging “has in Italy been regarded from time immemorial as a legitimate mode of earning one’s daily bread”, reference is made to the “insolence and rapacity” of cab-drivers, and we are warned that “the popular idea of cleanliness in Southern Italy is behind the age, dirt being perhaps neutralized in the opinion of the natives by the brilliancy of their climate”. The travellers’ health is of great importance, with strict instructions on what to eat and drink (avoid “free indulgence” in most foods) and what to wear when: “always be provided with a greatcoat or shawl …. Woollen underclothing is indispensable.” No detail is left out, even the traveller’s body incorporated into the institutionalisation of travel.
This edition has certainly seen a few travels in the last 100 years, although it’s in good condition and the colour maps and plans (as above) are still vibrant (and notably, all details in Italian). The next book I’ll be blogging about is slightly different in focus and purpose, recounting a visit to Morocco in the 1920s.
1James Buzard, The Beaten Track: European Tourism, Literature and the Ways to Culture, 1800-1918. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1993.
“Charles Dickens was fascinated with travel, and this is reflected in Little Dorrit which features continental locations such as Marseilles, Rome and the Alps. Yet why did he represent Europe as a hostile place in this novel, and what can we glean from him about British tourists of the period”
As I have mentioned previously, Warwick have a Celebrating Dickens website that draws together researchers from across the university discussing their perspectives on Dickens and Victorian life.
The website has just been updated with more podcasts from researchers around the University, and I’ve contributed two podcasts discussing my own research: the first is on travel and mobility in Bleak House, and the second discusses representations of Europe in Little Dorrit.