Real Life Heroes: William Strata Smith

By Michelle Styles

How do we date sedimentary rock and why? How do we know that dinosaur fossils only appear in certain layers of rock? How do geologists explore for gas and oil? Why do geological surveys exist?

The answers lie with one self taught man born in humble circumstances in late 18th century Oxfordshire who made it his life's work to make sense of Britain's fossils, and in doing so completely changed the way rocks and the timeline of geology were perceived. In many ways, his work laid the foundation for Darwin.

William Strata Smith was the first person to recognise that certain groups of fossils appear in only in certain layers of rock or strata. For example Tyrannosaurus rex bones only appear in those layers from what is now called the Jurassic period. He also noticed that sedimentary rock always occurs in the same succession. Know your fossils and your rock, you know where to dig for coal. Strata Smith's scheme of ordering remains in use today. Using his knowledge of the strata, Smith proved adept at being able to drain bogs and convert them to valuable agricultural land as being able to figure out where to dig canals. His first map of the geology of Bath which was produced in 1801 is acknowledged to be the first geological map in the world and has earned Bath the title as the cradle of geology.

Furthermore, his systematic map of England and Wales which appeared in 1815 is the foundation for all other geological survey maps. His map shows the depth of the various strata. It is a map of great beauty as well as of huge scientific interest. Knowing the underlying geology means people can know where to dig for coal, or oil for example or they can work out the depth of the seam and therefore the productivity.

And what is more, unlike other great endeavours such as the Oxford English Dictionary or the Ordinance Survey maps, it was a solitary endeavour. Strata Smith did all the survey, calculations and minute detail work without any assistance.

Unfortunately, when the map of England and Wales was first published, he was not given the recognition he deserved and was made bankrupt. He was even accused of plagiarising the map for a time as various members of the establishment had trouble believing a self-taught man could have produced such things. To clear his debts, Smith sold his precious collection of fossils to the British Museum. They reside in the Palaeontology Department of the Natural History museum and each has a unique number to signify that they were from his collection. It is possible to see these fossils today. As part of the condition of the sale, he had to produce a catalogue of the fossils and it was the first time that coloured tables showing the distribution in the layers was published. His nephew Joseph Phillips, who later became a noted professor of geology at Oxford, helped him with the tables. Phillips' refinement of the table led to the publication in 1841 of the geological table which remains in use today.

Eventually the establishment was forced to recognise his achievements. In 1831 he was the first recipient of the Wollaston Medal from the Royal Geographical Society and in 1832, King William IV awarded him a state pension for his services to the country. Among other things he became a member of the commission who selected the stone for the Houses of Parliament.

Because of his dogged persistence and his dedication, I think Strata Smith deserves to be called a true hero. If you wish to learn more about William Smith, I recommend the 2001 book by Simon Winchester, The Map That Changed the World: William Smith and the Birth of Modern Geology.

Michelle Styles is passionate about history and passionate romance. An author over 16 books for Harlequin Historical, she writes in a variety of time periods from Roman and Viking through to early Victorian. A QUESTION OF IMPROPRIETY will be a December 2010 Harlequin Historical release.

Women Did It Better: Higher Education

By Blythe Gifford

I'm going to approach this subject in a roundabout way. Instead of starting with something that women have done better, I'm going to start with something they were originally not allowed to do at all: go to college.

For most of recorded history, women were excluded from institutions of "higher learning." And when I say excluded, I mean that in the strictest sense. At Cambridge in the 14th century, for example, it was forbidden for a female laundress to even enter the hostels where the young scholars lived. A female student couldn't even be imagined.

The reasons for putting the "No Girls Allowed" sign on the tree house were, on the surface, "logical." The medieval explanation, as Thomas Aquinas stated it, was that women were "deficient," and needed to be ruled by men, who were rational. This was all part of God's plan, particularly at Cambridge, which I researched for IN THE MASTER'S BED. Cambridge did not confer its first degrees on women until 1948.

Nearly 600 years later, little had changed. In the mid-19th century, women-only institutions were created because women were still kept out of the "men-only" schools. The first women allowed to study beside men at a four-year, American college attended Oberlin in Ohio, graduating in 1841. In Britain it wasn't until 1880 that the first women were awarded degrees from a coeducational institution (the University of London), although women were allowed to study at Queen's College as early as 1848.

But even then, "everyone knew" that women were unsuited by nature for the physical and mental rigors of the higher forms of learning. A few unusual women might have been allowed to attend college, but medical school, law school and the like continued to be off limits. By then the reasons were attributed to science, not the Almighty, but the rationale was much the same. Women had measurably smaller brains. Their reproductive organs would draw away blood from the brain, rendering their mental faculties incapable of processing academic information. Not their fault, of course. They were simply, physically incapable of understanding such complex material.

While this may seem like ancient history, it was only within the last 30 years that there was any requirement that men and women be treated equally in higher education. We think of Title IX, passed in 1972, as requiring girls to have the opportunity to play sports, but the language of the act is much broader. Now called the Patsy T. Mink Equal Opportunity in Education Act, it says "No person...shall, on the basis of sex, be excluded from participation in, be denied the benefits of, or be subjected to discrimination under any education program or activity receiving Federal financial assistance."

What's been the result of this? The number of women in all levels of higher education has grown by leaps and bounds. In 1972, women earned 7% of law degrees and 9% of medical degrees. In 2001, women earned 47% of law degrees and 43% of medical degrees. And in 2006, women earned 58% of the bachelor's degrees and 60% of the master's degrees. Not only do women earn the majority of bachelors and masters degrees, recurring reports indicate that women maintain higher grade point averages than men. (Truman College, for example, reported in 2002 a consistent gap, which that year was between a 2.87 GPA for male freshmen and. a 3.19 GPA for female freshmen.)

We can put forward many arguments as to why women are, arguably, more successful than men in higher education. Explanations have ranged from the earlier onset of maturity in women to a male tendency to party more. (I do not cast aspersions on our brothers. I simply report a hypothesis.) Once again, we look to science for answers. And today's science has discovered that women's brains are larger than men's when it comes to the area governing the verbal skills so helpful to success in the classroom.

Will this look any more rationale in hindsight than the arguments of the 19th and 14th centuries? We'll see. But for now, it appears that women do higher education better.
Makes you wonder if we were excluded all those years because someone had a sneaking suspicion this might happen.

Tragic Tales: The Lovesick Maidens of Hangzhou

By Jeannie Lin

I first learned of the lovesick maidens of Hangzhou when reading Lisa See's Peony in Love, a hauntingly imaginative ghost story in which three women find their voice through the interpretation of the famous Ming Dynasty opera, The Peony Pavilion.

Written by poet Tang Xianzu(1550-1616) in the late 16th century, The Peony Pavilion is known for its nuanced lyrics and use of symbolism and metaphor. It is often compared to Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet in terms of the shared theme of dying for love and also in terms of its literary and social influence. Young women were known to become obsessed with The Peony Pavilion, so much so that they wasted away and died of lovesickness, captivated by the mere idea of romantic love so strong that it transcended life and death.

The most amazing part of Lisa See's tale was the historical basis. A subset of these afflicted ladies, termed the lovesick maidens of Hangzhou, composed beautiful poetry influenced by the ideals of romantic love in the opera. Such a phenomenon is significant when we consider that this was a small literary movement that budded during a time known for footbinding and the subordination of women.

The heroines of Peony in Love were based on three women who together wrote The Three Wives Commentary, published 1694, about The Peony Pavilion. The commentary was one of the first works of literary criticism written and published by women as it was funded by the last of the wives.

Hangzhou is known for its romantic tradition of which these lovesick maidens were a part. The history of the maidens can be found in discussions regarding the literary significance of the Three Wives Commentary. In Teachers of the Inner Chambers: Women and Culture in 17th Century China, Dorothy Ko remarks on how the popularity of The Peony Pavilion among women reached "legendary proportions." But these women were more than swooning fans. The play provided a "common vocabulary" and discourse among women.

Many of these poets died before their words became known--this was definitely the case of two of the three wives--the idea of romantic love captivating young women so completely that they wasted away in contemplation of it, is poetically tragic.

These women wrote. They wrote and discussed romance in a literary and social context and wasted away because their ideas of love consumed them. Perhaps some connection could be made to Virginia Woolf's parable of Shakespeare's exceptionally gifted sister in A Room of One's Own. A woman, with the fire of poetry in her, living in a time and place with no possible outlet to exercise her creativity; would meet only frustration and ruin, would wither away, would die with her genius unsung.

Footnote: Shakespeare and Tang Xianzu were contemporaries, both writing plays on opposite sides of the world. Romeo and Juliet was first published in 1597. The Peony Pavilion was first performed in 1598.

Love Affairs: George & George

By Zoe Archer

George Eliot's personal life proved to be just as fascinating as her novels. Born Mary Ann (sometimes written as Marian or Mary Anne) Evans in 1819, Evans largely educated herself in liberal arts, theology and foreign languages. She joined a collection of unconventional thinkers that included Charles Bray and Charles Hennell, and their humanist principles helped shape her own ideals and spiritual convictions. In January 1842, Evans refused to accompany her father to his evangelical Protestant services, and their religious differences remained a source of conflict that lasted until his death.

Evans moved to London in the early 1850s and became the assistant editor of the Westminster Review. She had an affair with the owner of the Review, John Chapman, but not only was Chapman married, he had another mistress. In 1851, she met critic and novelist George Henry Lewes. Lewes was a bohemian in an open marriage. His wife, Agnes Jervis, had three children by Lewes, and several children by other men. Within a year of meeting Lewes, he and Evans began a relationship that became the basis of much controversy.

By the end of 1852, Evans and Lewes began living together. In every way but legally, Evans and Lewes considered themselves married. Friends and relatives disparaged the couple and the effect their relationship had on their professional careers. Evans called herself Mrs. Marian Evans Lewes. She and Lewes travelled many times to the Continent a number of times and shared several homes. Lewes supported Evans' literary ambitions and encouraged her to write fiction. Their relationship caused considerable public scandal, especially considering that the relationship was conducted openly. She persisted in her writing endeavors. She began to use the pseudonym George Eliot both as a means of eluding criticism of her private life as well as to separate her fiction from other, more domestic genre work written by female authors. Many admirers of her novel Adam Bede were shocked when it was revealed that novelist George Eliot was, in fact, the scandalous Mrs. Evans Lewes. It was years before she and Lewes were accepted in polite society, despite the popularity and acclaim her work received.

Evans and Lewes remained together until his death in 1878. In 1880, she legally married a man twenty years her junior. She and John Walter Cross were reportedly very happy together, but their time as a married couple was not long. Evans died seven months into their marriage. Her wish to be buried in Westminster Abbey was denied, due largely to her spiritual beliefs and her unconventional relationship with Lewes. She was buried beside Lewes in Highgate Cemetery, but in 1980, a commemorative stone was placed in Poets' Corner of Westminster Abbey, solidifying her reputation as one of the most accomplished, influential and remarkable authors in the English Language.

Guest Author: Blythe Gifford

This week we welcome back Blythe Gifford as she celebrates the release of IN The MASTER'S BED from the Harlequin Historical line. Those of you who visit Unusual Historicals regularly, you'll recognize her as the author of INNOCENCE UNVEILED, set in medieval Flanders, and THE HARLOT'S DAUGHTER, inspired by the illegitimate daughter of the king of England and his notorious mistress.

And, you'll remember that she is coming on board as a regular contributor to Unusual Historicals. So a double welcome Blythe!

Disguised as a man in a place where women are forbidden, Jane de Weston meets a man who, for the first time, makes her want to be a woman. But what will happen when she'd discovered and he finds her IN THE MASTER'S BED?

***

You've come back to medieval England for this story, so what makes it unusual?

It takes place in a medieval university, Cambridge, (or Cantebregge, to be historically correct) and I don't know of many romances that have used that setting. (Readers, correct me if I err!) Susanna Gregory set a series of mysteries there, however. And Keena Kincaid's ART OF LOVE is set in the abbey schools that eventually became the University of Paris, but roughly two hundred years earlier than my story.

How did you decide on a university setting?

Those who read THE HARLOT'S DAUGHTER--though you don't need to have read it to enjoy this story--may recall that the harlot's other daughter, Jane, was already what we would call a "tomboy." She had studied a little Latin, so I always knew that in her story, she would run away, dressed as a lad, to make a life for herself that was very different than her beautiful sister's. A university was the ideal answer.

Why Cambridge instead of Oxford?

I had originally planned for Jane to go to Oxford, but I weave real people and events into my stories, and when I discovered that Parliament met in Cambridge the year my story was set, everything fell into place. The visit of Parliament and King Richard II play an important role in the story.

You've told us a little about your heroine. How about your hero?

Duncan is a master at Cambridge, so an accomplished man, but he's far from the stereotypical scholar. He values the body as well as the mind. And he plays the guitar, or the medieval equivalent, the gittern.

His home is near the Scottish border, in northeastern England, and in those days, that was considered a land of barbarians. So Duncan has a bit of a chip on his shoulder. He's had to prove himself to all comers at Cambridge. And he has.

Any "Easter Eggs" in the book, that is, hidden surprises for your readers?

Well, this is my fourth published work to take place in the 14th century, and somehow, Geoffrey Chaucer has snuck into almost every one. In his Canterbury Tales, "The Reeves Tale" is the story of two Cambridge clerks from "Soler Halle," which was thought to be stand for King's Hall, or King's College, or Garret Hostel, depending on which scholar you believe. I adopted that as the name for my hostel, calling it Solar Hostel.

What did you learn about the medieval university?

More than I could incorporate in the story! When I started researching medieval higher education, I was struck by how different it was from what we know today. By the end of the fourteenth century, when I set IN THE MASTER'S BED, the university was no longer only for monks, but it was still for a special few--all of them men. Women were forbidden in the classrooms and the living quarters, even to do laundry.

While I set my story at Cambridge University, what I learned largely applied to Oxford or any of the institutions on the continent.

So tell us what was so different about it?

Here are some things that seem strange to us today:
**A young man could go to University at age 14 or 15. If he completed the most advanced degree, theology, he could very well be there until age 30.
**Latin was the universal language of education, so an educated man could travel from Italy to Paris to England and still communicate with his fellows. And when I say language, I mean that they spoke Latin to each other.
**The list of topics studied was short. The seven "liberal arts" were the trivium (think trivia) of grammar, dialectic, and rhetoric, followed by the quadrivium of music, arithmetic, geometry, and astronomy.
**Books were scarce. Often, the classes consisted of a master reading aloud from a required text.

That doesn't sound much like higher education today!

It seems like a foreign world, but the more I read, the more university life in the 14th century sounded suspiciously like that in the 21st:
**Those young men who attended were not the nobility, knights, nor peasants. They were the sons of the newly emerging middle (merchant) class, hoping that education would help them advance in a career, typically in administration at the king's court.
**Sometimes they had a career goal, but as time went on, they attended more for social polish and general cachet. As many as 80% attended without ever completing a degree.
**For those who went on to a higher degree, the top choices were law, medicine, and theology.
**An initiation hazing ritual had to be endured in order for a beanus (freshman) to be accepted into the university "tribe." The word later became "beanie" and applied to the freshman headgear required on college campuses as late as the 1960s.
**Students wrote home begging for money. There were even guidebooks with sample letters, telling them how to do it!
**Drinking was rampant. As Hastings Rashdall put it in The University of Europe in the Middle Ages, "no important events of life could be got through without drinking." To stand a round for one's fellows was the common reward, or punishment, for a variety of events, from obtaining one's degree to losing a bet.
**Colleges continually tried to prohibit loud singing and playing of music, dancing in the streets (men dancing--no women involved) and dramatics. Most of these, of course, were the result of the aforementioned drinking. The regularity of these pronouncements suggested their ineffectiveness.

As I learned all this, I became much more comfortable creating my story in the world of the medieval university. Human nature, particularly the human nature of young men living in groups, is still recognizable seven hundred years later. I really enjoyed throwing my hero and heroine together in this challenging world. And, of course, letting them find a happy ending!

Thanks for joining us today. You're offering a prize for a lucky commenter, right?

Yes, indeed. I'll be giving away a copy of IN The MASTER'S BED to someone who leaves a comment. And I invite readers to check out my website. I'm embarked on the "Blog Until You Drop" tour and I'd love to have readers join me along the way--and, of course, to sign up for my e-list.

And you'll be back here next month.

Right. I'll be posting on Scandals on September, telling more about that "notorious mistress" who is the mother of both Solay and Jane: Alice Perrers.

Captions: A gittern (public domain); Pembroke College, a 14th century gatehouse (public domain); and a photo of the River Cam and willow trees, similar to those Jane and Duncan sat under (Cruccone).

***

You heard it here! Leave a comment or question and you'll be entered for a chance to win a copy of IN THE MASTER'S BED. Void where prohibited. I'll draw the winner next Sunday. Good luck, and thanks again to Blythe for stopping by!

Cover Art used by arrangement with Harlequin Enterprises Limited. All rights reserved ®and T are trademarks of Harlequin Enterprises Limited and/or its affiliated companies, used under license.

Men: J.M. Barrie

By Jennifer Linforth

"For several days after my first book was published, I carried it about in my pocket and took surreptitious peeps at it to make sure the ink had not faded." ~ J. M. Barrie

When Unusual Historicals asked us to blog on men, my mind went to little boys and the one little boy who unlocked a world every adult should explore. There is no doubt that authors are imaginative creatures, and we must exercise that imagination daily. Every author should, on occasion, crack open a book by J.M. Barrie, a literary giant who turned the 19th century on its ear with his never-ending world of make-believe.

With his enduring and timeless Neverland....

What births imagination? For Barrie I believe it was death. Barrie said that his mother, distraught after the death of his brother just short of age 14, wandered around the house pleased that she would have one son who remained a boy forever. Barrie, in shock as well over losing his brother, would dress as his older sibling in order to comfort his mother. This death shaped Barrie in a way he would never forget--it birthed his imagination as he and his mother entertained each other with stories from her childhood in order to keep his brother's childhood alive.

Like many writers you find, he was not encouraged to write by his family. They wished to have him in the ministry. Following their desires, he enrolled in the University of Edinburgh. As he attempted to follow course, he ended up writing more and more. Short stories based on those he shared with his mother landed him acclaim for local papers, and established him as a respected writer. Eventually his attention turned toward works of the theater, reviewing and writing for the stage.

The ministry was forgotten.

There is a long list of works that found Barrie success in the early 1900’s. But in the United States it was his serial, The Little White Bird, which we should identify with, for in that work first appeared Peter Pan. It was not until 1904 that Peter Pan, or The Boy Who Wouldn't Grow Up appeared on stage. Come 1911 his novel, Peter Pan and Wendy, would endure as a timeless classic. His Neverland would become the iconic place where morality is undecided. Peter Pan has long been billed as a book for children, but is in reality more a story for grown ups that, far too often, lose site of the dreams within and forget what it is like to simply--believe.

My imagination is where I would retreat as a girl when I needed a spot to be alone. Now as a writer I offer that retreat to others. I still find far too many people in the world that don't believe in make-believe so I pose this question to the readers of Unusual Historicals. What births imagination? Where in life is your J.M. Barrie?

Remember Barrie's words: "Every time a child says 'I don't believe in fairies' there is a little fairy somewhere that falls down dead..."

I have already discussed this with my two year old and believe me, she claps to bring that fairy back to life.

How will you make imagination endure?

Greatest Hits: Sappho & Co.

By Lindsay Townsend

Sarmatia in my BRONZE LIGHTNING, which begins in the Mediterranean of 1652 BC, would surely have known of the the Muse. Homer called her 'Daughter of Zeus' in The Odyssey, but the poetry we have left from ancient Greece comes much later and mostly from men: Alcman, Pindar, Theocritus, and the great playwrights of the fifth century BC, Callimachus of Alexandria.

The sources for women's writing in ancient Greece at first appear to be much more scarce. Women do appear in Greek plays: Klytemnestra, Antigone, Lysistrata. In these works they have lively voices but their words have been written by men. Where is the literature written by women? Where do Greek women speak directly to us?

Sadly, little has survived. Manuscripts were copied by men and they selected what to copy. It could be there are more papyri in the Egyptian desert--thousands of them still remain in the ancient rubbish dump still being excavated at Oxyrhynchus after a hundred years--or in some yet undiscovered cache that will give us more authentic women's voices. So far the pickings are thin, but there's real quality there.

Foremost amongst the poets is Sappho, whose life on Lesbos in the early sixth century BC, at the centre of a group of girls worshipping Aprodite and the Muses, gave her material for nine books of poems full of affection, admiration and longing. Only a few poems have survived, but their directness is appealing. 'As pale as summer grass,' she (or her narrator) describes herself, a flame playing under her skin, as she gazes hopelessly at one of her girls chatting with a man. Another fragment:

The moon has set, and the Pleiades.
The night is half gone.
Time passes, and here I lie alone.

Later in the century came Korinna, who lived in Boiotia and wrote in the local dialect. One poem talks of her own voice, 'as clear as a swallow's', which gave delight to the 'white-robed ladies of Tanagra', her home town. The ancient world thought she was a rival of the great Pindar himself.

Some, like the fifth-century poets Praxilla of Sicyon and Telesilla of Argos, have left so little writing intact that we can hardly judge their work. Another, Erinna, lived on Telos, an island near Rhodes, and died before she was twenty, leaving us a reputation based on The Distaff, a tribute to her dead friend Baukis, whose father lit her funeral pyre with the torches intended to light her wedding. Only a few tantalising lines remain out of three hundred.

We have more complete poems by Anyte, who lived in Tegea on the Greek mainland in the third century BC, than by any other Greek woman, even Sappho. Even so, there are just eighteen certainly by her, a poor legacy for a poet very highly regarded in her day and for long afterward. One tells of children playing with a billy-goat, one of the sadness of a small girl, Myro, at having to make graves for her pet cricket and cicada. Here’s another, describing a statue of the goddess Aphrodite:

This is the place of the Cyprian, where she fulfils her pleasure
Looking out for ever from the land over the shining sea,
To make voyaging kindly to sailors. All around the ocean
Trembles, staring at her image of oil-glistening wood.

There's a useful anthology here which only underlines the scarcity of ancient Greek women's writing which survives. Maybe one day the papyrus mounds of Oxyrhynchus will give us more.

Literature & Education: Maurice by EM Forster

By Erastes

Maurice, in my mind, was one of the first "Unusual Historicals."

Forster, well-known and successful author of many other books such as and Howard's End and A Room with a View started Maurice in 1913, but the book wasn't published until 1971, after he had died the previous year.
The themes in his books up to this point had explored class differences and the incompatibility of such: upper class Helen Schlegel supports and eventually sleeps with the lower class Leonard Bast to tragic results, while upper class Henry Wilcox's mistress was the present and lower class Mrs Bast. In Maurice he plays with the same themes, but in an entirely unprecedented move, he not only makes the unhappy and inconclusive love-affair the upper-class one Maurice has with Clive, but he crosses the class divide, making Maurice ultimately happy with Alex, an ignorant brash gamekeeper.

He says, in his "terminal note" in the book:

A happy ending was imperative. I shouldn't have bothered to write otherwise. I was determined that in fiction anyway, two men should fall in love and remain it for the ever and ever that fiction allows, and in this sense Maurice and Alec still roam the greenwood. I dedicated it "To a Happier Year" and not altogether vainly. Happiness is keynote--which by the way has had an unexpected result: it has made the book more difficult to publish. Unless the Wolfenden Report becomes law, it will probably have to remain in manuscript. It if ended unhappily, with a lad dangling from a noose or with a suicide pact, all would be well, for there is no pornogrpahy or seduction of minors. But the lovers get away unpunished and consequently recommend crime.

On a further, more depressing note, written in September 1960, he bemoans the fact that:

If [homosexuality] could be slipped into our midst unnoticed, or legalized overnight by a decree in small print, there would be few protest. Unfortunately it can only be legalized by Parliament, and Members of Parliament are obliged to think, or appear to think. Consequently the Wolfenden recommendations will be indefinitely rejected, police prosecutions will continue and Clive on the bench will continue to sentence Alec in the dock. Maurice may get off.

It is tragic that he didn't see his book published, nor lauded and celebrated for the masterpiece it is. It was so very much ahead of its time, and only now, in the last ten years has "gay romance" finally claimed the "happy ever after" for which he paved the way.

It is interesting that, in this era (FIFTY YEARS after these words were written), homosexuals are, right now, still struggling for acceptance, and even legality in the most powerful nation in the world. Perhaps if he were to rewrite the end of Maurice now, he would not send them off to America for their happy ending.

Literature & Education: Once Upon a Time About the Old West

By Anna C. Bowling

When I think of education and historicals, a lot of things come to mind. There's the one room schoolhouse in Bedford, NY, that fascinated me as a child and I still insist on at least walking by when we're in town. And I won't leave Old Sturbridge Village without a conversation with whoever is interpreting the role of schoolmaster/mistress there. Also fascinating is the life of the colonial schoolteacher, but colonial education has already been well covered here. There could be the case of private tutors in some of the periods I write in, and the world of British public (private, to us Americans) schools could be a universe of its own. I considered using friends' experience as homeschooling parents to explore how many pioneers taught their own children with whatever was at hand.

What comes most vividly to mind is one session of my own elementary education (which was not, I hasten to add, in a one room schoolhouse; we're only going back as far as the 1970s here). We were in a reading circle, and the topic of this unit was cowboys. Our teacher would read through the selection with us and then ask each student a question from her teacher's edition, which had the expected answers given in red. When it was my turn, the question was, "Did cowboys read a lot (for entertainment)?"

I said, "No."

This was not the answer in the teacher's edition. The teacher's edition quoted a passage that books were passed around until they fell apart. I did not contest that. What happened next is part of what sealed my fate as a lover of unusual historicals.

While the passage we'd read did say that about the books, it also said that a good number of men employed in that particular profession were black, Native American, Mexican or Chinese. Since at that time it was illegal to teach slaves to read, that eliminated a number of black cowboys from the ranks of readers. Next, assume that non-English speakers, or those for whom English is a second language, would be more likely to read in their own language, then that takes even more from the pool of readers, or at least divides it into smaller pools. Also factor that the work a cowboy was required to perform did not require a high level of education, so it can be assumed that a portion of the remaining pool of potential English-readers was not literate.

Working from the reduced pool of potential readers, I then took a look at the typical workday as outlined in our passage. If the cowboys rose as early as they did, were engaged in manual labor for much of the day and ended work after sundown, that wouldn't leave much time for reading. Plus it would be dark. Taking all that into account, I told the teacher, it could be true that some cowboys did read for pleasure, but probably not most. There was a moment of silence, a few "umm"s from the teacher, and she did call my parents later on, but the image of those hypothetical cowboys and their reading material stuck with me. Maybe one of them will make it into a story someday.

Yes, I know there are holes in the logic; I was nine. (Western fans, please feel free to chime in.) There were, of course, cowboys of many national origins and ethnicities who might be devoted to Dickens, or who gobbled any newspaper they could get their hands on, and we have letters and diaries written by cowboys to give us valuable insight into how these hardworking men really lived. The passage in that long-ago fifth grade reading group dealt with trail rides, so if I can read while walking, I'm sure there were cowboys who had a book in their saddlebags and could read a novel, text or Bible on the trail as well.

Until someone perfects time travel, we'll have to keep supposing, but who knows? Maybe a few of them had a romance novel stashed in their saddlebags as well.

Literature & Education: Sappho and Co.

By Lindsay Townsend

Sarmatia in my BRONZE LIGHTNING, which begins in the Mediterranean of 1652 BC, would surely have known of the the Muse. Homer called her 'Daughter of Zeus' in The Odyssey, but the poetry we have left from ancient Greece comes much later and mostly from men: Alcman, Pindar, Theocritus, and the great playwrights of the fifth century BC, Callimachus of Alexandria.

The sources for women's writing in ancient Greece at first appear to be much more scarce. Women do appear in Greek plays: Klytemnestra, Antigone, Lysistrata. In these works they have lively voices but their words have been written by men. Where is the literature written by women? Where do Greek women speak directly to us?

Sadly, little has survived. Manuscripts were copied by men and they selected what to copy. It could be there are more papyri in the Egyptian desert--thousands of them still remain in the ancient rubbish dump still being excavated at Oxyrhynchus after a hundred years--or in some yet undiscovered cache that will give us more authentic women's voices. So far the pickings are thin, but there's real quality there.

Foremost amongst the poets is Sappho, whose life on Lesbos in the early sixth century BC, at the centre of a group of girls worshipping Aprodite and the Muses, gave her material for nine books of poems full of affection, admiration and longing. Only a few poems have survived, but their directness is appealing. 'As pale as summer grass,' she (or her narrator) describes herself, a flame playing under her skin, as she gazes hopelessly at one of her girls chatting with a man. Another fragment:

The moon has set, and the Pleiades.
The night is half gone.
Time passes, and here I lie alone.

Later in the century came Korinna, who lived in Boiotia and wrote in the local dialect. One poem talks of her own voice, 'as clear as a swallow's', which gave delight to the 'white-robed ladies of Tanagra', her home town. The ancient world thought she was a rival of the great Pindar himself.

Some, like the fifth-century poets Praxilla of Sicyon and Telesilla of Argos, have left so little writing intact that we can hardly judge their work. Another, Erinna, lived on Telos, an island near Rhodes, and died before she was twenty, leaving us a reputation based on The Distaff, a tribute to her dead friend Baukis, whose father lit her funeral pyre with the torches intended to light her wedding. Only a few tantalising lines remain out of three hundred.

We have more complete poems by Anyte, who lived in Tegea on the Greek mainland in the third century BC, than by any other Greek woman, even Sappho. Even so, there are just eighteen certainly by her, a poor legacy for a poet very highly regarded in her day and for long afterward. One tells of children playing with a billy-goat, one of the sadness of a small girl, Myro, at having to make graves for her pet cricket and cicada. Here’s another, describing a statue of the goddess Aphrodite:

This is the place of the Cyprian, where she fulfils her pleasure
Looking out for ever from the land over the shining sea,
To make voyaging kindly to sailors. All around the ocean
Trembles, staring at her image of oil-glistening wood.

There's a useful anthology here which only underlines the scarcity of ancient Greek women's writing which survives. Maybe one day the papyrus mounds of Oxyrhynchus will give us more.

Literature & Education: Medieval Mystery Plays

By Sandra Schwab

Religion and Church were extremely important for medieval man. But as Church services were held in Latin, it became necessary to teach laymen the important bits from the Bible in a different way. This need resulted in embellishments of the Easter liturgy: a short dialogue between the women visiting the grave and finding it empty, and the angel telling them that Christ had risen, was acted out - and this was the beginning of British drama. These so-called tropes were continually lengthened and eventually developed into full-length Easter dramas. They were so popular that they had to be performed outside the churches. Yet because of the entertainment these plays provided, the church authorities became suspicious and forbade the clergy to act.

And this was the point when drama took really off: laymen snatched the chance, took up acting and ditched the Latin altogether. At least since the 14th century annual plays were staged by the town guilds in the context of the newly introduced Corpus Christi festival. These Corpus Christi plays or mystery plays were performed as cycles, which covered important passages from the Bible, starting with the Fall of the Angels (which is not directly covered by the Bible, but was thought to be the reason why God created humankind: humans should eventually replace those fallen angels in the heavenly choirs) and ending with the Day of Judgment. Each guild was responsible for one play within a cycle, and profession of the lay-actors was in some way connected to the contents of the play: e.g., in York the shipwrights staged the building of the ark, and the bakers did the Last Supper.


In York the annual production of the Corpus Christi plays took a special form: there were 12 stations throughout town, and each acting troupe moved from one station to the next with a wagon upon which the stage had been erected. The York cycle contains 48 individual plays, so if all of them were performed, it was a massive undertaking indeed, with 576 performances in total. The plays were not only a giant communal project and a chance for the guilds to display their wealth, but they can also be regarded as the worldly equivalent of the procession in which the host was carried around town in honor of the Corpus Christi festival: in both instances the divine permeates the city.

Through the mystery plays the biblical story became something people could relate to; it became part of their lives. This becomes abundantly clear in the so-called "Second Shepherds Play" from the Wakefield Cycle, which deals with the shepherds on the fields who are called to bear witness to the birth of Christ. They not only address Baby Jesus with endearments that might be used for any other baby ("Hail, little tiny mop!" --mop meant child--and "Hail, darling dear"), but the biblical episode is also preceded by a humorous episode involving the sheep-thief Mak, who hides a stolen sheep in a cradle and pretends it is his newborn child. In a somewhat daring move, the anonymous author thus included a comic version of the nativity in his play.

Both this episode and the introductory passages in which the shepherds bemoan their lot make the characters in the play "normal" people, not removed in time and space from the audience. When at the beginning of the play the world is described as an inhospitable place, full of injustices, it is concerns of the 15th century which are addressed. It is the audience's own world which is in need of God's grace. And together with the shepherds they are reassured that with the birth of Christ God has sent hope into their world.

Literature & Education: Egyptian Literature

By Jean Adams

Ancient Egyptian literature grew out of religious beliefs, but quickly evolved to deal with man's day-to-day life. Literary works occupied a distinguished position in ancient Egyptian civilization. The Egyptians viewed literature as a source of spiritual nourishment and a unique way to elevate style of expression. Refined literary style was a source of pride for the writer and appreciation and enjoyment for the reader.

Egyptians wrote plays, dramatic poetry, songs, religious hymns and love poetry, in addition to description of nature, poems to glorify their kings and their battles, and songs for workers and farmers and others to be sung in parties.

Ancient Egyptian literature can be dated back to the Middle Kingdom (2022 BC-1850 BC). This era witnessed a great number of writers and thinkers who left behind works of art reflecting the elevated status of thinking and culture.

One story is titled "The Sailor and the Wonder Island" (The Shipwrecked Sailor). It narrates the story of an Egyptian sailor whose ship is wrecked with all others on board, drowned. As the only survivor, he lives on an isolated island, finds a treasure, and returns home. The original“Treasure Island perhaps?

Scholars and critics of comparative literature are at loggerheads on the extent of the influence of the "Message of Forgiveness," written by the Arabic poet abul-Ala'al- Ma'arri (973-1057 AD), on Dante Aligieri's Divine Comedy. The central theme of both works is the description of heaven and hell in the hereafter.

Some scholars believe this theme has clear roots in ancient Egyptian literature, which tackled this theme in many works. It was evident in The Book of the Dead, The Book of the Gates, and in the story Isis, Osiris and the World of Dead.

Ancient Egyptian writers expressed their imaginative vision of the journey of the soul after leaving the body to the sky until it reaches the court where the deceased's heart is weighed against "Ma'at's feather" that symbolizes justice, truthfulness, rightness and bounty. Then, the deceased is sentenced to eternal paradise or hell.

The ancient Egyptians also excelled at novel writing. This is reflected in the great number of stories left behind. In some of these stories, a well-traveled hero tells us about his adventures such as the story of the sailor and the dangers he witnessed on the mythical island of snakes.

Another example is "Snohi" (Sinuhe), a story that was famous for many centuries. It describes Snohi's escape from Egypt after a perceived wrongdoing and his stay in Syria for many years where he won the favor of the king. He became so close to the leader,who allowed him to marry his elder daughter, and gave him a plot of land. When Snohi grows old, he also grows homesick. He appeals to the king for permission to return to Egypt to see, as he says, "the place that his heart is longing to see because the greatest thing in the world for a man is to be buried in the place of his birth." His hope is fulfilled and he returns to Egypt.

The ancient Egyptians excelled in writing romantic love poetry. In addition to eulogies to Nile River and its merits, there were many love poems that expressed not only passion surging the heart of a lover, but also delicate emotions. Sentiments of love were couched in beautiful similes derived from aspects of the Egyptian environment. For example, a lover says to his beloved, "My beloved is like a garden, full of beautiful papyrus blossoms and I am like a wild goose attracted by the taste of love."

Another lover says, "My beloved is there on the other bank. We are separated by the floodwater. On the bankside, there is a crocodile lying in wait. But I am not afraid of it. I will swim through the water until I reach her and be delighted."

In another love song, two lovers exchange refined expressions of love. The loving woman says, "I will never leave you my darling. My only wish is to stay in your house and at your service. We will always be hand in hand, come and go to gather everywhere. You are my health; my life."

In many of the love poems of Egypt, the man calls his beloved "sister" and the woman calls her lover "brother" in order to show how each one of them highly appreciates the other.

Finally, can you guess this story?

Rhodophis, a young slave girl, who could dance beautifully, so delighted her old master that he bought her a pair of golden sandals. The other servants were jealous, so when Pharaoh decided he wanted to take a wife, and summoned all the women of the kingdom to a great feast, they didn't tell Rhodophis and left her behind. But the gods intervened and sent Horus, in the shape of a falcon, to steal one of her sandals. He dropped it at the feet of Pharaoh, who declared the sandal was so dainty that we would marry the wearer. Many tried it on but it fit none of them so he sent out his chariots to find her. They found Rhodophis cowering behind a bush and sent for Pharaoh. He took her by the hand and declared his undying love for her.

Cinderella's story with the same central themes appears in abundance in the folkloric and literary works of many nations all over world, the most famous being the Brothers Grimm.

The first reference of this story dates back to the era of the fourth Dynasty in the 26th Century BC.

Literature & Education: The Grand Street School

By Eliza Tucker

School isn't just for good little boys and girls.

In the 1870s, there thrived in the Lower East Side of New York City, a school open to children of all colors and creeds. Located near the intersection of Grand and Clinton Streets in a dry good shop owned by Prussian immigrant Wolfe Mandelbaum, The Grand Street School became the most highly esteemed school for young criminals in the United States.

By the time the school was established, Wolfe's wife, Fredericka, had become New York City's most well-respected receiver of stolen goods. She employed expert pickpockets and thieves who not only helped fill two large Manhattan warehouses with items that once belonged to the city's finest families, but took in children aged ten and younger to learn how to scam, cutpurse, and rob. Even the advanced classes in safe cracking, burglary, blackmail and conartistry were free of initial charge for astute students.

The best and brightest graduates of the Grand Street School were offered salaried positions, but they had to surrender anything they stole. This offering didn't last long: "Marm" Mandelbaum found several of these employees were double dealing by turning in their better finds to her rivals.

The Grand Street School only operated for six years, when, in an act of rebellion, a well-known police officer's son applied for training. Marm Mandelbaum realized the educational venture was too common and bad for her other businesses. In 1884, Marm Mandelbaum--New York's own Fagin--was captured in a sting operation led by the Pinkerton Detective Agency.

Literature & Education: Victorian Educators For Girls

By Anita Davison

During a childhood spent in North London, local folklore decreed that I grew up familiar with the rhyme:
Miss Buss and Miss Beale,
Cupid's darts do not feel.
How different from us,
Miss Beale and Miss Buss
Intended as uncomplimentary, Miss Frances Buss and Miss Dorothea Beale were both famous headmistresses of controversial girls' schools and proponents of the Womens' Suffrage movement.

Miss Beale became head of Cheltenham Ladies' College and founded St Hilda's College, Oxford, while Frances Mary Buss opened the North London Collegiate School for Ladies.

Born in London in 1827, Frances Buss was sent to a unremarkable private school in Aldersgate "...to get me out of the way". Sent to another private school in Hampstead, at the age of fourteen, she was teaching there, and by sixteen she was occasionally left in charge of the school.

In April 1850, when Francess was twenty three, she founded the North London Collegiate School in Camden Street, London. Thirty-five daughters of gentlemen and respectable tradesmen assembled on the opening day to receive an education which included Latin, French, and Natural science. German, Italian, and music were extras, taught with thought and observation rather than learning by rote. The school's success was immediate and by December, the school had 115 paying fees of between 9 and 12 guineas a year.

At this time there were no public examinations for girls, but in 1863 Miss Emily Davies, a contemporary of Dorothea Beale, prevailed upon the Cambridge authorities to allow girls to take the Local examinations unofficially. With only six weeks notice, 84 candidates sat the examination; of these 25 were from the North London Collegiate School, 15 of whom passed. In an age where girls were considered too weak to cope with study, none of the girls who took the examinations displayed the signs of physical strain their critics insisted would occur.

As a result of this experiment, girls were soon admitted to the examinations on the same terms as boys except that, "to avoid the supposed evils of emulation", their names, unlike the boys, were not published.

In order to gain public recognition for her school and girls' schools in general, Miss Buss gave evidence to the Schools Enquiry Commission that her pupils were mostly upper middle-class, but any girls of good character were admitted.

By 1865 the school had 200 day girls, with a few boarders, but was still run as a private, family concern, with her father Robert William Buss teaching Art and her brother Septimus Buss teaching Scripture. Discipline was strict, with talking apparently the main evil and breaches of the many rules taken seriously. The staff and pupils felt themselves to be pioneers in a great campaign against sex discrimination in education. Many former pupils testified not only to her discipline but also to her kindliness and generosity.

In 1870 Miss Buss turned her flourishing private venture into a public grammar school for girls. Miss Buss encouraged gymnastics, swimming, skating, hockey, and athletics. Her new building incorporated the first gymnasium designed for a girls' school and obtained the use of the St. Pancras baths. She instigated a school sports day, and in the interests of dress reform organized a tug-of-war between girls who wore stays and those who did not; the latter won. Miss Buss had little time for fainting girls, for whom she recommended the cold water treatment. She also encouraged the more usual accomplishments such as art, music, needlework, cookery, and handicrafts.

In 1929, the school acquired 'Canons', an estate that once boasted one of the finest Georgian houses in England belonging to the first Duke of Chandos and where George Frederick Handel was the composer-in-residence. The original house was dismantled and demolished 1760, but the colonnade now adorns the front of The National Gallery in Trafalgar Square.

By June 1940, the school was established and had 650 pupils by the end of the war. The 1760 villa which replaced the Duke of Chandos' mansion was decorated for the first time, and tennis courts and games fields were laid out. By 1964 there were 860 girls in the school, and many famous women are amongst its alumni.

Miss Buss was also a suffragette, participating in the Kensington Society, a woman's discussion society, and the London Suffrage Committee. She continued as Headmistress of the School for the rest of her life and died on Christmas Eve 1894.

Literature & Education: The American Colonies

By Isabel Roman

Education in the thirteen colonies varied as much as the colonies themselves. However, over all it did include reading, writing, simple math, poems, and prayers. Paper and textbooks were scarce so they recited their lessons until they memorized them. The three most commonly used books were the Bible, a primer, and a hornbook--which I had to look up.

The hornbook, a form of ABC book, was common by Shakespeare's day (Love's Labour's Lost, Act V. i.). It consisted of a piece parchment or paper pasted onto (most commonly) a wooden board and protected by a leaf of horn. The text usually started with a cross in the top left-hand corner, followed by an alphabet, vowels, a syllabary, and the invocation to the Trinity, after which the Lord's prayer was printed. The horn-book was often known as the "Crisscross-row" or "Crisscross," which is probably a reference to the Christ's cross at the top of it, or perhaps the way in which the text itself is set up to be read. At any rate the text of the hornbook shows clearly how much religion dominated instruction and literacy in these early times. The compact text did not allow room for illustration. However, on the other side might be engraved some splendid figure, such as St. George, or the reigning monarch, or even a mermaid. According to Mahoney, in the invention of the hornbook, "provision was made, for the first time, for children to handle their own books" (p.8).

In New England, they valued education, for both religious study and economic success. A 1647 Massachusetts law mandated every town of 50+ families have an elementary school and every town of 100+ families have a grammar school, where boys could learn Latin in preparation for college. In practice, it was difficult to keep schools open and staffed (I'm thinking Ichabod Crane here!) but all towns made an effort. Both boys and girls attended the elementary schools, and learned to read, write, and cipher.

In the more diverse population of the mid-Atlantic colonies were heavily influenced by the Age of Enlightenment, and Philadelphia became the center of the Enlightenment in America partly because of the presence of Benjamin Franklin, who championed many Enlightenment ideas. Franklin popularized the Enlightenment in annual editions of Poor Richard's Almanack. In 1743 Franklin was among the founders of the American Philosophical Society of Philadelphia, which sought to promote useful knowledge in the sciences and humanities through scholarly research and community service. Enlightenment culture, in combination with merchant wealth, gave a major boost to the production of high art as opposed to popular or folk art. Serious artistic work had previously found little support in the colonies.

The rural South had few schools of any sort until the Revolutionary War. Wealthy children studied with private tutors; middle-class children might learn to read from literate parents or older siblings. However, most poor and middle-class white children, as well as virtually all black children, went unschooled. Literacy rates were significantly lower in the South than the north.

Secondary schools were rare outside major towns, and emphasized Latin grammar and advanced arithmetic, with the goal of preparing boys to enter college. Some secondary schools also taught practical subjects, such as accounting, navigation, surveying, and modern languages. In poorer families, many households sent their children to apprentice and learn a trade.

Encarta
State.edu
Chesapeake.edu
Wikipedia

Literature & Education: The Governess in the Arts

By Michelle Styles

In 1847, two characters who were destined to change the face of literature--Jane Eyre from Charlotte Bronte's novel of the same name and Becky Sharpe from Vanity Fair were published. Both characters put the profession of governessing at the heart of the English novel for the first time, essentially starting a genre that continues to today. As Kathryn Hughes points out in the Victorian Governess, governesses do appear in novels pre-1847 but generally not at the heart of the novel. She also becomes a familiar figure in Victorian painting (ie The Governess by Richard Redgrave in 1844).

So why the 1840s? What was different? Why was the governess not a popular figure in Regency novels or painting?

First of all, it has to do with the increasing levels of literacy amongst middle class women. Once a market has been established, publishers are quick to follow the trend. They are less quick to be trend setters. So there had to be a market for women's fiction first.

Because there are more servants, middle class women are also able to indulge in reading and reading about governesses proves to be popular.

The governess who moves from orphan to married lady in the course of the novel is following the one path that middle class women of that era were all to pursue without losing their gentility. Unlike men, they could not start their own businesses or go to work in a factory to make their fortune. The governess is an aspirational fantasy for these women. She is an alter ego and is able in theory to wander the world at will, in a way her real life counter part never could.

Starting in about 1830, the middle classes begin to employ governesses. Before this time period, middle class women were either taught by their mothers or went to academies. As the fashion for employing servants increases, the need for women to learn basic skills such as cooking and sewing decreases. The emphasis begins to fall on accomplishments. Lower middle class women whose husbands had made their fortunes in manufacturing did not always possess the requisite skill to pass on to their daughters so they began to employ women who could.

In the 1820s, the craze for ornamental, rather than practical education infects all levels of society. Some in the aspiring middle class did not like to think that others from the lower orders might be mingling with their daughters and thus, they began to employ governesses, rather than sending them to academies. It is slightly ironic that as boys are being out to private boarding schools, girls are being withdrawn from them and taught at home. Aristocrats, of course, had traditionally employed governesses and thus employing a governess was a way of showing that the family had reached the upper echelons. So more positions for governesses opened up and it became a way for women to earn money.

Also in the 1820s and 1830s, many middle class families suffered ruin when banks failed or fathers died without providing properly for their daughters. Thus, there was a larger pool of educated women who were forced to go out and earn a living. These women also wanted the aspirational fantasy and enjoyed reading about their own.

Thus the governess novel came into its own and continues today. In fact, my editor often says how popular the governess as a heroine is. It is the whole Cinderella/rags to riches that is a timeless premise.

Literature & Education: High School for Everyone

By Delia DeLeest

The relative affluence of the twentieth century, as well as a general exodus of the majority of the population from farming life into the cities, brought about an unexpected change. Education was no longer just for the well to do but was now brought to the masses.

No longer needed to work the farm or, in many cases, to help provide for the family in other ways, young people had the opportunity to continue school past eighth grade and enter high school. Along with more education, young people also received a new name...teenagers. The term wasn't used previous to the 1920s.

It use to be that working for the family was considered more important than getting an education. I suppose if you compare learning algebra to providing food for the dinner table, they were probably right. But as people moved out of the country, they no longer needed the entire family to keep things moving. The head of the family could bring home a paycheck, which bought things previously thought to be luxuries such as canned food, ready made clothing and manufactured soaps and toiletries. The mass production of such things made them cost effective for the average American family, thus, allowing kids to remain kids much longer than past generations.

They didn't just receive an education in high school either. One of my favorite books I refer to during my writing is a 1927 yearbook from a high school in Chicago that I received from a friend. I was surprised to see basketballs teams, drama club, an organized group that focused on charity, and even a posture contest. Apparently there was more than reading, writing and arithmetic going on in those hallowed halls. Another thing that shocked me was that this particular school was integrated. I'm not sure how common this practice was across the country, but interspersed among the traditional white students were a fair number of African Americans. I'd always thought that "separate but equal" was the rule across the United States, but I was happy to see that apparently this wasn't the case. Sometimes I think we give our ancestors a bum rap they don't always deserve.

Literature & Education: Gaston Leroux, Man Behind The Mask

By Jennifer Linforth

The ear splitting crack of gunfire shattered the morning fog like a rock to a mirror. Those within earshot stopped in their tracks, their hearts pounding against their ribcages. What pitiful soul was on the wrong end of the lead? Worthy question, but those in the house knew the only scent that would waft down from the floors above would be of spent powder and not pooling blood.

To most a gun shot was an ominous sound, but to the family of Gaston Leroux it was reason for celebration. Gunfire meant a novel was completed and a new legacy born. Every novel he wrote ended with a single shot fired out the bedroom window. It was classic Gaston Leroux: flamboyant, creative, quizzical and a bit...morose.

Gaston Leroux came into the world like any other boy on May 6, 1868. He was born out of wedlock at number 66 on the Rue Faubourg Saint Martin in Paris. His parents married a month later in Rouen and Gaston was eventually joined by his brothers, Joseph and Henri and their youngest sibling, Helene. His father, Dominique Alfred Leroux, was a contractor and his mother was Marie Bidault.

Gaston was schooled in Eu before heading off to study law in Caen. (Ironically meeting a young man there by the name of Philippe--a highly influential French noble whom would later bear the name of a character in one of his most famous novels.) There he graduated with honors at the age of eighteen. Following the death of his mother, Gaston was called upon to aide his father in the rearing of the younger siblings and hence became head of the Leroux family--much to his chagrin. He studied law to appease his family, but loathed every moment of it. Thankfully fate stepped in the way. When asked to be legal correspondent for the paper Paris, Leroux jumped at the chance. After covering a very high profile case he was approached by the editor of Le Matin and invited to be a regular reporter.

For thirteen years Leroux used cunning, wit and his highly tuned skills as an observer to secure one fantastic story after another. He traveled at a frenzied pace living off the excitement of chasing a story. Gaston Leroux had a knack for journalistic coups, securing one coveted interview after another. While enjoying the high and exciting life, Leroux met and married Marie LeFranc. But he did not find the same comfort in marriage that he did in journalism. The union did not last long, and the parting was less than ideal. Marie LeFranc refused a divorce.

Undeterred, he continued in his travels meeting the love of his life, Jeanne Cayatte, in 1902. Despite Leroux's reputation for being a notorious gambler and playboy, Jeanne Cayette was smitten. Gaston found a partner matching him in cunning and wit. It would not be until 1917 that he and Jeanne married, thanks in part to Marie's death.

Leroux turned away from journalism in 1907, perhaps bored with it or just ticked off at the constant demands placed on him. Having returned to France after dodging lava during the eruption of Vesuvius, his much needed vacation was cut short with orders from his editor. Annoyed, Leroux greeted the bearer of these orders with some of his most famous words in reference to his current employer: "Shit. Go tell Bunau-Varilla, shit!"

Thus ended his journalism career and began his life writing popular fiction.

Thirty-three novels, screenplays and short-stories galore, not to mention countless rounds of ammunition, Leroux devoted his life to writing. When funds for his family ran short (due to a rather fine taste for the fast life and drink) he was known to shrug off the debt.

"I will just write another novel!" he would declare.

And so he would.

While The Phantom of the Opera is probably one of his most famous works, it is more popular with western culture. In France, it was the adventures of detective Joseph Rouletibille that were the most important of his writings. These works launched Leroux as a master of crime fiction. The Mystery of the Yellow Room has been acclaimed as the standard all locked room mysteries try to achieve. The Rouletibille novels were steeped in logic and twists and turns. It was not until the very end that the criminal was reveled and it always stunned the reader to discover it was the one person they least expected--classic Gaston Leroux.

None of these detective novels held his more famous signature--the love of the macabre. That would season his later works in particular, The Phantom of the Opera, notorious for its murderously vengeful and hideously deformed anti-hero, Erik. But Erik was not the only criminally insane and repulsive character Leroux cooked up. Balaoo was an oddly formed cross between man and ape, while Cheri Bibi was master criminal, not terribly attractive, but with a large heart nonetheless. And finally, one would be remiss not to mention Benedict Masson, a bookbinder in love with a beautiful woman. This woman, because of Masson's visage cannot or will not, return his love. In the course of this novel Masson does suddenly find himself a handsome man, but at the price of lacking the ability to make love and give love. Oh, the irony!

Leroux's The Phantom of the Opera is a masterful piece of fiction, fitting in with the genre of gothic horror while at the same time to today's reader, historical romance. It has all the elements of a monster novel with the tragic and bittersweet under tones of unrequited love. Leroux pulled together his love of symbolism and used all his tricks of misleading the reader to create this timeless tale.

He died of uriemic poisoning on April 27, 1927 and was laid to rest in Nice. When he died he took the secrets of his Phantom tale to the grave. Written in his classic journalistic style, Leroux opens the book by saying: "The Opera Ghost really existed." Shortly before his death he was quoted as saying during a speech in Nice: "However fantastical my imagination it as always been anchored in something real. Perhaps that is why so much indulgence has been shown to my work, a work which has no pretences except to distract the reader without overstepping the boundaries of propriety."

Does that mean Erik was real? Does that indicate that all Leroux's fiction was based on fact? The reader is challenge to be the judge. What it does mean is that what you read is not always what you should believe.

And that is classic Gaston Leroux.