Reflaming the Victorians: Spontaneous Human Combustion in the Nineteenth Century

An artist's impression of a victim: notice the shoes

In Dying to Know (2002), George Levine says that the nineteenth century was driven by a “passion for selfless dedication to knowledge”. In the face of the methodologies of empirical science, mysteries such as the origin of species (Darwin) and the make-up of the universe (Dalton) tumbled. Amid this climate of discovery, there developed an appetite for the inexplicable. Spontaneous combustion whet this appetite: indeed, it remains a subject of debate and conjecture to this day. The term’s profile and usage rose exponentially throughout the nineteenth century, peeking in around 1865 (see graph below), and it was arguably its resistance to the epistemological rapacity of Victorian scientific endeavour that generated such fascination. I will track its profile through its appearances in both nineteenth-century literature and medicine, examining how it functioned both as an imaginative device, drawing authority from the very fictional works in which it featured, and also a “real” ailment, with an identifiable string of symptoms and causes.

Graph of usage of the term 'spontaneous combustion' from 1700 - 1910

Dickens’ Bleak House

Everywhere that spontaneous combustion appeared in the nineteenth century, it rubbed up uncomfortably against the scientific community. One of the most notable examples comes from Dickens’ 1852 novel Bleak House, with Mr. Krook, a hoarder of documents. Mr. Krook is a relatively minor character, his death taking up no more than a page in the 900-page novel; however, the scene prompted a tremendous backlash. George Lewes wrote a letter to Dickens decrying his deployment of the phenomenon, reminding him that his “magnificent popularity carries with it a serious responsibility”, and not to counteract the work of “a thousand philosophers” by making such a “vulgar error (…) but one peculiarly adapted to the avid credulity of unscientific minds.” The offending passage follows:

Here is a small burnt patch of flooring; here is the tinder from a little bundle of burnt paper, but not so light as usual, seeming to be steeped in something; and here is – is it the cinder of a small charred and broken log of wood, sprinkled with white ashes, or is it a coal? Oh horror, he IS here! And that from which we run away, striking out the light and overturning one another into the street, is all that represents him.

Oh horror! Krook's remains are discovered in this illustration

Dickens uses spontaneous combustion as a narrative tool: Krook’s hoarding of documents pertaining to central characters is preventing narrative progress, so Krook’s combustion becomes narratologically-necessitated. Interesting, then, that a narrative device -- a self-evidently manufactured feature -- should be taken so personally at the level of scientific (im)possibility by Lewes. More interestingly, in his response to Lewes in the preface of Bleak House, Dickens argued, not that this was a work of fiction and so inevitably contained elements thereof, but denied altogether that spontaneous combustion was impossible:

My good friend Mr Lewes (…) published some ingenious letters to me (…) arguing that Spontaneous Combustion could not possibly be (…) I do not wilfully or negligently mislead my readers, and before I wrote that description I took pains to investigate the subject (…) I do not think it necessary to add (…) the recorded opinions and experiences of distinguished medical professionals (…) I shall not abandon the facts.

This back and forth shows spontaneous combustion unnerving and offsetting scientific discourses. Paradigms of scientific verifiability are clung to in Dickens’ reference to “the recorded opinons (…) of distinguished medical professionals”, and his earlier reference to “about thirty cases on record”. The written record is key to Dickens’ understanding of the real (perhaps a spot of self-indulgence on his part): the very fact of recorded instances of spontaneous combustion is, for Dickens, proof of its existence. He dresses the fantastic in a lab coat.

Sarah Alexander, in her book Victorian Literature and the Physics of the Imponderable (2015), states that “Dickens’s novels (…) are more providential than scientific, more catastrophic than realist”. As John Foster said, in Dickens’ world, “we were all so connected by fate without knowing it.” Despite Dickens’ arguments for the scientific verifiability of spontaneous combustion, it exists in Bleak House as a cog in the gear-chain of a “providential” universe. It is a lingering, anachronistic distributor of justice, punishing the wicked (the Krooks, or crooks) – a harbinger of the inevitable, and an ordering force in a world of waning Christian narratives.

Manchester Guardian piece, 19 November 1825

Origins and Medicine

Spontaneous combustion wasn’t just discussed in fiction: it also featured on a (fairly) regular basis in newspaper and medical articles. This clipping (right) from the Manchester Guardian in 1825 is one of several from the period that sought to “elucidate the hitherto inexplicable phenomenon of spontaneous combustion.” To “elucidate the inexplicable” could serve as an epigraph to Victorian science, and certainly to the relationship between science and spontaneous combustion. The article, despite its claims to revelation, lists tropes which recur throughout accounts of spontaneous combustion: “ardent spirits”; the consumption of “a large part of the body”, “leaving other parts, particularly the head and fingers”; “fetid moisture”; the female subject; the lack of damage to “linen and furniture”, all of these are features, or ‘symptoms’ of spontaneous combustion, and you will notice them throughout this blog.

The earliest reference to spontaneous combustion came in the Acta Medica et Philosophica Hafniensia  (a Danish medical journal), in 1673:

The very first written record of spontaneous combustion

This description set a precedent, and its example is cited throughout history: from the Manchester Guardian article quoted earlier, to Dickens’ reference to the “thirty cases on record”. Analysing a similar case in 1731, Paul Rolli confidently asserted:

The Fire was caused in the Entrails of the Body by inflamed Effluvia of her Blood, by Juices and Fermentations in the Stomach, by the many combustible Matters which are abundant in living Bodies for the Uses of Life; and, finally, by the fiery Evaporations which exhale from the Settlings of Spirit of Wine, (in the stomach); within which (…) those Spirits ingender a kind of Camphire; which (…) in Sleep, by a full Breathing and Respiration, are put in a stronger Motion, and consequently, more apt to be set afire.

Notice Rolli’s assured use of gently-vague biological terms: the “Juices” of the stomach; the “many combustible Matters which are abundant in living Bodies for the Uses of Life”. This commentary offers nothing like the rigour of nineteenth century scientific practice; and its self-confidence is in stark contrast to Dickens’ defensive preface, which communicated a cultural obsession with fact that is entirely absent from Rolli’s piece.

J.M. Booth's article is cynical from the off

By the nineteenth century, spontaneous combustion occupied a grey area in medical imagination. An article published in the British Medical Journal in 1888, entitled “Case of So-Called ‘Spontaneous Combustion’”, written by J. Mackenzie Booth, is prefaced: “The term ‘Spontaneous Combustion’ has been applied to two conditions: first, spontaneous ignitability, and secondly, increased combustibility, and I need hardly say that it is to the second category that the present case belongs.” Booth’s use of inverted commas around the term spontaneous combustion is symbolic of a shift in perception. Where Rolli calmly explained the pyrotechnics of entrails, Booth burdens the very term “spontaneous combustion” with cynicism (perhaps in satire of earlier accounts, like Rolli’s), assuring his readers – as if they needed assuring – that his is a case of the increased possibility of combustion, not combustion of the scientifically-slippery, spontaneous variety. This recalls Dickens’ preface; its desire to stay within the realm of scientific possibility, or rather, scientific ‘knowability’. Interestingly, Booth’s article is actually a far closer relative of Rolli’s than Booth would have us believe. Booth’s description of the remains of the victim runs: “the main effects (…) were limited to the corpse (…) the body was almost a cinder, yet retaining the form (…) and figure (…) Both hands and the right foot had burnt off and fallen.” This description retains all the features of Rolli’s: the “hands and right foot” of Booth’s article resemble the “two Legs untouch’d” and “three Fingers blacken’d” of Rolli’s. Like Rolli’s victim, Booth’s is “notoriously intemperate”. In spite of Booth’s scornful preface, he is unable, in reality, to do anything more than Rolli: blame the booze.

Spontaneous combustion and modernity

Off the rails: railway mania turns sour

One of the defining advancements of Victorian England was the implementation of the railway system. Variously revered and reviled, this “artefact of modernity”, as Nicholas Daly has dubbed it, “stood as both agent and icon of the accelerated pace of everyday life, annihilating older experience.” William E. Aytoun, a Scottish nationalist poet, was critical of what he called the “mania” surrounding the railway, and, in 1845, wrote “How we got up the Glenmutchkin Railway, and how we got out of it”, a short story (with a long title), about two hapless entrepreneurs who found, and quickly lose, a railway company. In his preface, Aytoun explains that the story “was intended by the writer as a sketch of some of the more striking features of the railway mania”, further claiming that “Although bearing the appearance of a burlesque, it was in truth an accurate delineation.”

Turner's famous painting communicates a similar anxiety

The reference to spontaneous combustion in the story is fleeting, but telling. Discussing the board members of their disintegrating business, Bob and Augustus, the protagonists, say: “’And Sir Polloxfen?’ ‘Died yesterday of spontaneous combustion,’” upon which the narrator reflects that “the company seemed breaking up.” It’s significant that spontaneous combustion signals the destruction of this fleeting business venture. It refers back to a comment made earlier in the story by Bob, that he had a plan to “send up the shares like wildfire.” This comment prefigures the end of their business before it has even begun, and sets up a metaphor which is extended throughout the piece. Aytoun concludes the story by stating that “It contains a deep moral, if anyone has sense enough to see it.” Ostensibly, this moral is concomitant with the metaphor of “wildfire” – the capitalist project, which exists in microcosm in “railway mania”, is greedy and unstable, and burns the hand that lights it. However, this “moral” can also be understood as part of a wider context of concern within the mid-nineteenth century over the concept of “modernity”. Daly suggests that much of Victorian art was attempting the “escape” modernity, and in “Glenmutchkin Railway”, spontaneous combustion acts as a knife with which Aytoun severs the link between Scotland and modernity. Spontaneous combustion behaves here in a similar way to in Bleak House, then: as an Old Testament-style force, punishing those who deviate from increasingly irrelevant moral and social codes.

Spontaneous combustion is part of a select group that mystified at the beginning of the nineteenth century, and mystified at the end of the nineteenth century. Since its inception (or invention) in the seventeenth century, it has been doubted but never fully debunked in the public imagination; today, it crops up in cautious tabloid articles (and online blogs), and I suspect its appeal to the “avid credulity of unscientific minds” will continue for years to come.

Works cited

Alexander, Sarah. Victorian Literature and the Physics of the Imponderable. New York: Routledge, 2015. Print.

Aytoun, William E. "The Glenmutchkin Railway." Stories by English Authors: Scotland. New York: Scribner's, 1896. N. pag. Print.

Booth, J. M. "Case of So-Called "Spontaneous Combustion"" Bmj 1.1425 (1888): 841-42. British Medical Journal. Web. 29 Feb. 2016.

Dalton, John. A New System of Chemical Philosophy. New York: Philosophical Library, 1964. Print.

Daly, Nicholas. Literature, Technology, and Modernity, 1860-2000. Cambridge: Cambridge UP, 2004. Print.

Darwin, Charles. The Origin of Species and the Voyage of the Beagle. Ed. Ruth Padel. London: Vintage, 2009. Print.

Dickens, Charles. Bleak House. Ed. Norman Page and Hablot Knight Browne. Harmondsworth: Penguin, 1971. Print.

Fairclough, Paul. "Spontaneous Human Combustion a Hot Topic Once More." Guardian Online. The Guardian, 23 Sept. 2011. Web. 1 Mar. 2016.

Levine, George Lewis. Dying to Know: Scientific Epistemology and Narrative in Victorian England. Chicago: U of Chicago, 2002. Print.

Rolli, Paul. "An Extract, by Mr. Paul Rolli, F.R.S. of an Italian Treatise, Written by the Reverend Joseph Bianchini, a Prebend in the City of Verona; upon the Death of the Countess Cornelia Zangari & Bandi, of Cesena. To Which Are Subjoined Accounts of the Death of Jo. Mitchell, Who Was Burned to Death by Lightning, and of Grace Pett at Ipswich, Whose Body Was Consumed to a Coal." Philosophical Transactions.: Giving Some Account of the Present Undertakings, Studies and Labours of the Ingenious, in Many Considerable Parts of the World. .. Ed. James Parsons. Vol. 43. London: Printed for S. Smith and B. Walford, Printers to the Royal Society, 1731. 447-61. Print.

Images used

Derailed Train. 1878. Slate.com. Web. 5 Mar. 2016.

Illustration from Dickens' Bleak House. 1853. Ancient-Origins.net. Web. 4 Mar. 2016.

Image of 1673 article from Philosophical Transactions, London. Personal photograph by author. 2016.

Skeleton in Chair. N.d. Secretsofthefed.com. Web. 3 Mar. 2016.

Screenshot of Google Graph. 2016. Google.co.uk. Web. 4 Mar. 2016.

Screenshot of Manchester Guardian Article, 1825. 2016. Theguardian.com. Web. 7 Mar. 2016.

Screenshot of '"So-Called" Spontaneous Combustion' Article, 1888. 2016. BMJ.com. Web. 6 Mar. 2016.

Turner, J. M.W. Rain, Steam and Speed – The Great Western Railway. 1844. Oil on canvas. National Gallery, London.

Bibliography

Arnold, Larry E. Ablaze!: The Mysterious Fires of Spontaneous Human Combustion. New York: M. Evans, 1995. Print.

Byard, Roger W. "The Mythology of “spontaneous” Human Combustion." Forensic Science, Medicine, and Pathology Forensic Sci Med Pathol (2016): n. pag. Web. 6 Mar. 2016.

Heymer, John E. The Entrancing Flame: The Facts of Spontaneous Human Combustion. London: Little, Brown, 1996. Print.

Marsh, H. "On the Evolution of Light from the Living Human Subject." Bmj S1-4.9 (1842): 163-72. BMJ. Web. 10 Mar. 2016.

Morton, Heather. "The “Spasmodic” Hoaxes of W. E. Aytoun and A. C. Swinburne." SEL Studies in English Literature 1500-1900 48.4 (2008): 849-60. JSTOR [JSTOR]. Web. 8 Mar. 2016.

Thurston, G. ""Spontaneous Human Combustion"" Bmj 1.4041 (1938): 1340. NCBI. Web. 8 Mar. 2016.

Further reading

Appearances in nineteenth century literature:

Brown, Charles Brockden. Wieland, or the Transformation; and Memoirs of Carwin the Biloquist. Ed. Emory Elliott. Oxford: Oxford UP, 2009. Print.

Disraeli, Benjamin. Sybil, Or, The Two Nations. Doylestown, PA: Wildside, 2004. Print.

Marryat, Frederick. Jacob Faithful. London: Macmillan, 1895. Print.

Redburn from: Melville, Herman. Redburn, His First Voyage; White-jacket, Or, The World in a Man-of-war; Moby-Dick, Or, The Whale. Comp. G. Thomas Tanselle. New York, NY: Literary Classics of the United States, 1983. Print.

Critical discussion of SC in the nineteenth century and beyond:

For SC’s relationship with the twentieth century and law: Adelson, Lester. "Spontaneous Human Combustion and Preternatural Combustibility." The Journal of Criminal Law, Criminology, and Police Science 42.6 (1952): 793-810. Web.

For twenty-first century medical perspectives: Gromb, S. "Spontaneous Human Combustion: A Sometimes Incomprehensible Phenomenon." Journal of Clinical Forensic Medicine 7.1 (2000): 29-31. Web.

For a quirky take on SC in film and feminism: Hennefeld, Maggie. "Destructive Metamorphosis: The Comedy of Female Catastrophe and Feminist Film Historiography." Discourse 36.2 (2014): 176-206. Web.

For insights into SC’s relation to religion: Moreman, Christopher M. "Inner Heat and Spontaneous Human Combustion." Journal of Religion and Psychical Research 24.2 (2001): 92-102. Web.

For nineteenth century medical perspectives: "Spontaneous Combustion of the Human Body." The Boston Medical and Surgical Journal 4.9 (1831): 146-47. Web.

For an overview of the phenomenon with literary leanings: Whittington-Egan, Richard. "The Enigma of Spontaneous Combustion." Contemporary Review 294.1704 (2011): 69-80. Web.

Tipsy Victorians

Tipsy Victorians

Figure 1. Earthenware Minton & Co. artefact at the V&A.
'Victoria' Wine Cooler

Figure 2. Model of the Crystal Palace at the V&A

When thinking about the most prolific points of time throughout the Victorian era, it is understandable that the Great Exhibition (1851) should spring to mind. And it is easy to understand why - the Exhibition showcased the works of British industry as well as the rest world. On a recent trip to the Victoria and Albert museum, I therefore found myself looking for an artefact, from the Exhibition, to inspire my research into the social and cultural attitudes of the Victorians. Whilst looking at the displays it was important to me that I found something which was both unusual and interesting and did not have the clearest links to literature and its impact on the Victorians. The ‘‘Victoria’ Wine Cooler’’ which was produced by Minton & Co., fascinated me for many reasons. The features were intricately designed and beautifully coloured, a piece that would have sat perfectly on the table of any respectable dinner party. However, what interested me most was the fact that Queen Victoria herself gave her name to this particular wine cooler when it was showcased at the Great Exhibition.

Attitudes to Alcoholism

Figure 3. Painting at the V&A of  Queen Victoria in the Great Exhibition

Victoria’s influence on the wine cooler is important, as it highlights that despite the fact that she is a woman, the drinking of wine is an acceptable and civilised thing to do within the correct setting in which a cooler such as this would be used. Yet, women were continuously scrutinised for appearing to enjoy alcohol. In the article “When Seeing is Believing” (2008), Julia Skelly suggests that the ‘British temperance movement… in 1828’ (4) was a key influence upon changing social attitudes to excessive alcohol consumption. In particular, within this ‘movement’ there was a ‘strong female membership’ (4). This was due to ‘men’s alcoholism’ (5) being considered as significantly less of a problem than women who drunk excessively. In fact, it was suggested that there was ‘empirical evidence that women who drank alcohol would eventually become criminals’ (5). By suggesting that there is ‘empirical evidence’ makes it more believable for society to trust the facts behind the dangers of women drinkers. This also proposes that the reduction of alcoholism is not the main focus of the ‘movement’. Instead it is largely preoccupied with removing women from their freedom to drink alcohol and society from the so called dangers they pose. Skelly links this ideology back to religion as the female drinker is seen as a ‘fallen woman’ (5). The ‘fallen woman’ alludes to the original sin and downfall of man as a result of women. Because of this, there would have been intense social pressure for women to conform to the new beliefs set by the ‘movement’ to reduce the amount of alcohol consumed or to abstain altogether. 

Women and wine in Literature

These social pressures successfully changed social attitudes to women and eventually became ingrained in everyone’s beliefs. Therefore in many literary texts the appearance of women abiding to this way of life was an important way to encourage women to act in a similar manner. In the novel Bleak House (1853), Charles Dickens presents the reader with a juxtaposition of attitudes to wine between Esther Summerson and Mr Guppy’s mother in Mr Guppy’s proposal of marriage:

She never interferes, is all for peace, and her disposition easy. She has her failings
 – as who has not? – but I never knew her to do it when company was present, at which
time you may freely trust her with wines. (79)

By referring to Guppy’s mother’s ‘failings’, Dickens alludes to her addiction to drinking alcohol. By not clearly defining this ‘failing’ as alcoholism, the reader senses that the reliance upon alcohol within Victorian Britain is a taboo. However, in some ways Dickens permits this behaviour of the female in the text as Guppy suggests that the overall ‘disposition’ of his mother is attuned to how a woman should behave. As well as this there is a stress upon the perceptions of other people within this quote. As long as a woman successfully appears to adhere to normal patterns of behaviour when in ‘company’ then it is excusable for her to rebel when she is not at risk of being perceived as the ‘fallen woman’. 

Dickens also indicates that there is a generation gap between the attitude of Esther and her proposed mother-in-law in the novel:

“Shan’t I give you a piece of anything at all, miss?” said Mr Guppy, hurriedly drinking off a glass of wine.
“Nothing, thank you,” said I. “…Is there anything I can order for you?”
“No… I’m sure. I‘ve everything that I can require to make me comfortable – at least I – not comfortable – I’m never that.”  He drank off two more glasses of wine, one after another.
I thought I had better go. (78)

Esther is significant of the new generation within Victorian societies. This new generation is born into society and are already raised with the attitude that the consumption of alcohol for women is perceived negatively. Consequently, when Mr Guppy suggests that she has a ‘Quarter’ (79) of a glass of wine, she refuses because she is aware that it is the incorrect thing to do. Not only this, but it highlights the indifference that Skelly suggests Victorians had towards ‘male alcoholism’. Dickens depicts Mr Guppy’s dependence on wine within this passage, consuming three ‘glasses of wine’ almost consecutively in order to provide him with the courage to make his proposal to Esther. Dickens’s use of hyphens disrupts the flow of the reading, thus mimicking the awkwardness of Mr Guppy; the wine does not aid his efforts to woo Esther. In actual fact, as seen here, the wine encourages Esther to leave the Mr Guppy alone completely – this stems from her ingrained belief that drinking alcohol to the point of becoming hysterical, whilst in the company of others should be avoided. 

Figure 4. Wine glasses, an artefact from the Great Exhibition at the V&A.

Putting Your Money Where Your Mouth Is

This spurred my thoughts to the wine itself. Wine was not a populous beverage amongst all people in the Victorian period because it was imported from abroad; this meant that it was more expensive than more common drinks such as gin and beer. For this reason, this meant that wine was somewhat of an elitist drink. Those who could afford it would drink it in excess and at every meal. In Kelley Graham’s book Gone to the Shops, the eating habits of the Victorian era are encapsulated. Street food was seen as an ‘important part of working class life’ (63) because it gave people access to a wealth of different foods and drinks, both hot and cold. Ultimately, street food made drinking ‘hot wine’ (63) an affordable and practical beverage for working class people. Many working class people worked ‘long, demanding hours’ (63) and this introduced the idea that people could eat and drink on the go. With little time to go home for meals or drinks, or without the money to create an entire meal or buy a whole bottle of wine, street food revolutionised the way in which the poor could eat. The fact that hot food and drinks were widely available was a necessity during the cold months as it became more practical for people to have portable, hot and readily available food. 

However, this was seen as an increasingly uncivilised way of living. As Graham suggests ‘middle class people would have been uncomfortable’ (63) consuming street food. This would have lowered people’s perception of them as they would immediately become associated with a convenience based, working class way of life. Interestingly in Dickens’s novel A Tale of Two Cities (1859), we are exposed to the effects of wine within the streets as a ‘large cask of wine… shattered like a walnut-shell’ (37) onto the street. The use of simile provides the reader with the dramatic imagery of the scene as we envisage the cracking of the ‘cask’ and the highly desired contents spilling out of it. As ‘all the people… suspended their business… to run to the spot and drink the wine’ (37), Dickens highlights the addictive qualities that wine had and its effects on the working class, particularly in Paris. What is important here is the fact that although the novel was published in 1859, it was set within 1775 during a time of revolution. The point that is being made here by Dickens is that within Victorian Britain, this is not a civilised way to behave. It is clear that over all the Victorians believe that although wine could be enjoyed at dinner parties in moderation. However, for those within the working class and women, the consumption of not only wine but any alcohol, was intrinsically linked to misbehaviour and social taboo. 

Works Cited             

Dickens, Charles, and Charles Dickens. A Tale Of Two Cities. New York: Penguin Books, 2010. Print.

Dickens, Charles. Bleak House. Ware: Wordsworth Editions Ltd., 1993. Print.

Graham, Kelley. Gone To The Shops. Westport, Conn.: Praeger, 2008. Print.

Skelly, Julia. "When Seeing Is Believing: Women, Alcohol And Photography In Victorian Britain".Queen's Journal of Visual & Material Culture 1 (2008): 4-5. Web.

Images Cited

Figure 1. Stevens, Sarah. “Earthenware Minton & Co. artefact at the V&A. 'Victoria' Wine Cooler”. 2016, JPEG.    

Figure 2. Stevens, Sarah. “Model of the Crystal Palace at the V&A”. 2016, JPEG.

Figure 3. Stevens, Sarah. “ Painting at the V&A of  Queen Victoria in the Great Exhibition”. 2016, JPEG.

Figure 4. Stevens, Sarah. “ Wine glasses, an artefact from the Great Exhibition at the V&A.”. 2016, JPEG. 

A Victorian Past Time

A Victorian Past Time

The tradition of reading aloud, which is now an activity mostly reserved for children, was an important social gathering for the Victorians. Though the oral history of reading aloud or performing stories aloud is one dating back to ancient civilizations, literature to be read aloud became much more accessible to members of lower classes during the Victorian era. In the hundred years before the Victorian era, reading was reserved for the upper classes who could afford to learn. By the early 1800s, it became more common for the lower classes to read; although, they did not purchase books as paper was still very expensive. As the population became more literate, it was becoming common for one person to read aloud a newspaper or a serialized novel in public houses. In the 1830s and 1840s, long pieces of prose started being published and sold for a very low cost. The installments were typically adventure stories, or some other attractive subject, to capture an audience’s interest week after week. The penny weekly novels were very successful with the increasingly literate population. 

Evenings with Charles Dickens

Enter Charles Dickens, and many other authors, who took advantage of the success of penny stories to cheaply sell their own novels to a wider range of classes. Dickens was one of the authors most widely read aloud to members of the family. After dinner or tea, middle class families would assemble in front of the fire in the drawing room and engage in the past time of reading aloud. Other family gatherings, such as at Christmas time, were also occasions where books were read aloud. 

“[My cousin] had begun to read aloud to my mother the new, which must have been the first, installment of David Copperfield. I had feigned to withdraw, but had only retreated to cover close at hand, the friendly shade of some screen or drooping table-cloth, folded up behind which and glued to the carpet, I held my breath and listened. I listened long and drank deep while the wondrous picture grew, but the tense cord at last snapped under the strain of the Murdstones and I broke into the sobs of sympathy that disclosed my subterfuge.” – Henry James, Henry James Autobiography, (1956)

 

Writers like Dickens knew their work was being consumed by being read aloud. In recognition of this, Dickens often assisted the reader with punctuation and phonetic spelling to properly demonstrate a character’s accent. In many cases of Dickens’ work it is often easier to read the dialogue aloud than to read it in silence. In addition, Dickens often includes indicators to the reader on how each character was to sound when being read out loud. Many, if not all, of Dickens’ characters have marked speech patterns that make their language specific to their personality, situation, or class. For example in David Copperfield, Mr. Pegotty has a distinguishable accent compared to David’s speech which Dickens emphasizes:

“'I'm much obleeged to her, I'm sure,' said Mr. Peggotty. 'Well, sir, if you can make out here, fur a fortnut, 'long wi' her,' nodding at his sister, 'and Ham, and little Em'ly, we shall be proud of your company.'”

Dickens even describes the volume and quality of the voices of his characters like Mr. Creakle: “. . . He had no voice, but spoke in a whisper.”

Such a detail would be somewhat extraneous if not for its necessity for the oratorical reader. Dickens’ writing style was consciously written for reading aloud his distinctive characters. For authors who realized their works would be read aloud, their style of writing and literary devices were specifically chosen for the way they would sound as opposed to how they would be read on the page. The structure of the sentences varied the pace of the narration in order to slow or speed the way in which the text would be read aloud, adding a range of effects on the audience. 

The Many Purposes of Reading Aloud

By the mid-1800s, reading aloud was a well-established evening activity. In The Book of Household Management, Mrs. Isabella Beeton highly values the time spent with the family reading aloud as it is the job of the parent to make the home “the happiest place in the world.” As with everything else that goes on in the home, reading aloud serves a dry, practical purpose: “It has often been remarked, too, that nothing is more delightful to the feminine members of a family, than the reading aloud of some good standard work or amusing publication. A knowledge of polite literature may be thus obtained by the whole family, especially if the reader is able and willing to explain the more difficult passages of the book, and expatiate on the wisdom and beauties it may contain. This plan, in a great measure, realizes the advice of Lord Bacon, who says, ‘Read not to contradict and refute, nor to believe and take for granted, nor to find talk and discourse, but to weigh and consider.’” Reading aloud was a source of education as well as a source of entertainment though Mrs. Beeton would have recommended reading aloud more as an improvement to the mind to her readers. 

The teenagers at the time might have had a different motive in mind for reading aloud. 

Teens or young adults had few means of spending alone time together or being able to fully get their feelings across to stay within the realms of polite society. Reading aloud became one such outlet. Reading together close to the light of a candle, required leaning in and getting close to one another which could certainly spark some feelings. Even the voice could act as a romantic oratory device. Inflection upon certain words or an emphasis on a certain passage could subtly indicate some feelings of affection. A popular means of seduction lies in the reading aloud of a volume of John Ruskin’s Modern Painters whose prose attracted readers such as Charlotte Bronte and George Eliot.

"The artist has done nothing till he has concealed himself -- the art is imperfect which is visible,-the feelings are but feebly touched, if they permit us to reason on the methods of their excitement."

       - John Ruskin, Modern Painters I, (1843)

"All the great men see what they paint before they paint it -- see it in a perfectly passive manner -- cannot help seeing it if they would; whether in their mind's eye, or in bodily fact, does not matter; very often the mental vision is, I believe, in men of imagination, clearer than the bodily one; but vision it is, of one kind or another ...."

       - John Ruskin, Modern Painters III, (1856)

 The Importance of Voice and the Emergence of Technology

“She particularly enjoyed reading aloud some of the finest chapters of Isaiah, Jeremiah, and St Paul’s Epistles. With a naturally rich, deep voice, rendered completely flexible by the constant practice; with the keenest perception of the requirements of emphasis; and with the most subtle modulations of tone, - her reading threw a glamour over indifferent writing, and gave to the greatest writing fresh meanings and beauty.”

 – J. W. Cross about George Eliot (1908)

The voice was a powerful devise of the reader capable of creating all sorts of atmospheres for the listener. Of course, the best kind of voice to be listened to is, paradoxically, one that can be ignored. To be able to drift into a completely different world for a moment is the power of a good oration. It was Dickens who felt that his work could only be properly heard and appreciated through reading out loud. Voice and speech for Dickens was what he considered to define his novels and himself as an author. He believed in the idea of his work needing to be read aloud so much so that he began another career of reading his own books aloud. For Dickens, his work was intended to be a literary performance.

Listen to A Christmas Carol just as Dickens read it here.

In 1877, Thomas Edison invented the phonograph and began experiments with sound recordings. It was not until 1888 which Edison began recording writers Alfred Tennyson and Robert Browning. (The video below is of Alfred Tennyson reading “The Charge of the Light Brigade” in 1890). The tradition of reading aloud no longer needed a physical presence and the very early elements of the audio book were produced.

“I have read aloud my death-cycles from Walt Whitman this evening. I was very much affected myself, never so much before, and it fetched the auditory considerable. Reading these things that I like aloud when I am painfully excited is the keenest artistic pleasure I know: it does seem strange that these dependant arts ? singing, acting and in its small way, reading aloud ? seem the best rewarded of all arts. I am sure it is more exciting for me to read, than it was for W.W. to write: and how much more must this be so with singing!”

- Robert Louis Stevenson, 1874

For the Victorians, reading aloud meant an intimate gathering with friends or family. The atmosphere created by the fire with the family together enjoying a relaxing past time made an impression upon many people of the time. The prevalence of reading aloud was certainly influenced a great deal by Charles Dickens and his works as there is much evidence of his different classed readers. The rise of cheaper forms of literature and of a literate populace led to emergence of reading aloud as one of the past times that Victorians enjoyed most. By the end of the Victorian era, it was becoming possible to not need to the presence of someone to enjoy the reading aloud of a piece of literature. The intimacy of the shared family space was not yet extinct though as forms of technology advanced. Instead, the collective experience of listening to projected voices remained for several generations afterward. 

Works Cited

Victorian Publishing History by Charlotte Barrett at http://writersinspire.org/content/victorian publishing-history. Accessed on Wednesday, February 24, 2016.

Dickens, Charles, and Hablot Knight Browne. David Copperfield. New York: Knopf, 1991.

Print.

Lai-Ming, Tammy Ho. "Reading Aloud in Dickens’ Novels." Oral Tradition 23.2 (2008).

Web.

"Newgate Novels: "Rookwood" (1834)." Here Begynneth A Lytell Geste of Robin Hood.

Mar. 2015. Web. 24 Feb. 2016.

Beeton, Isabella. The Book of Household Management. www.gutenberg.org. 19

Nov. 2003. Web. 24 Feb. 2016.

Giaimo, Cara. "I Made My Friends Test the 19th Century's Hottest Dating Tactic: Reading

Aloud." Atlas Obscura. 20 Jan. 2016. Web. 24 Feb. 2016.

"John Ruskin Quotations." John Ruskin Quotations. Web. 24 Feb. 2016.

"The Writings of George Eliot: Together with the Life by J. W. Cross. : George Eliot, John

Walter Cross : Free Download & Streaming : Internet Archive." Internet Archive.

Web. 24 Feb. 2016.

Harris, Muriel. "On Reading Aloud." The North American Review 214.790 (1921): 345-52.

Web.

Kreilkamp, Ivan. "Dickens, Phonography, and the Reform of Writing." Voice and the Victorian Storyteller. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge UP, 2005. 88-90. Print.

Rubery, Matthew. Audiobooks, Literature, and Sound Studies. New York: Routledge, 2011.

Print. Stevenson, Robert Louis. "The Experience of Reading in Britain, from 1450 to 1945..." UK Reading Experience Database. Web. 24 Feb. 2016.

Links:

"Hear Neil Gaiman Read A Christmas Carol Just as Dickens Read It." Open Culture. Web. 24 Feb. 2016.

"Alfred, Lord Tennyson "The Charge of the Light Brigade"Wax Cylinder Poem Animation."

YouTube. YouTube, Web. 24 Feb. 2016.