Showing posts with label reading. Show all posts
Showing posts with label reading. Show all posts

01 December 2008

Sports & Entertainment: Books & Reading in the 19th Century

By Sandra Schwab

Do you like to read novels? Of course you do, or you probably wouldn't have stumbled across the blog of a bunch of romance authors! Now imagine yourself living in the 1800s--what would your books look like then?

Generally speaking, 19th-century novels were often smaller than our books today, and until the 1830s, there was no standard publisher's binding. The covers consisted of grey cardboard, which buyers would remove so the books could be bound in their own library style. And this, of course, also tells you something about the readers and the price of books: novels were expensive. Very expensive in fact, and only the upper and upper-middle classes could afford to buy them on a regular basis. A novel was usually published in three volumes, as a so-called three-decker novel. By the 1820s, Sir Walter Scott's publisher had raised the price per volume to 10s 6d, which meant that the complete novel would cost 31s 6d. For the next few decades this remained the standard price. If you compare this to the average weekly wage of, say, a teacher (17s), it's clear that most people couldn't afford to buy first editions.


Instead, a lot of readers got their books from the so-called circulating libraries. For an annual fee, you could borrow one volume at a time; if you paid a higher fee, you could get more books. The most successful circulating library of the 19th century was Mudie's, founded in 1842. Thanks to their efficient organisation, they soon distributed books not only throughout Britain, but also throughout the whole British Empire. Imagine that!

If you fancied some lighter reading (or if you were a young lad enthralled by stories of knightly adventures, monsters, evil magicians, witches, seven-league boots and what not), you might have turned to the cheap street literature: to the broadside ballads and the chapbooks with their somewhat coarse woodcuts.

Luckily for Victorian readers, the cost of books and literature changed dramatically in the course of the 19th century, when Dickens and his publishers made the illustrated monthly popular for mainstream literature. For example, The Pickwick Papers were published in 19 installments from March 1836 to October 1837. Each monthly sold at 1s (except for the last, double, issue which cost 2s), and each issue was surrounded by pages of advertisements which provided an additional income for the publisher. The suspicion with which some people regarded these illustrated monthlies is expressed by Miss Jenkyns in Elizabeth Gaskell's Cranford: her neighbour, Captain Brown, is reading The Pickwick Papers in installments, and Miss Jenkyns is quite certain that the author, Mr Boz, can't possibly be a good writer. Indeed, she is rather annoyed when Captain Brown suggests that the opposite is true.

Gaskell's Cranford stories as well as her novel North and South were first published in a weekly magazine, namely in Dickens's Household Words, which ran from 1850 to 1859. Such installments in weekly magazines became another popular way to publish novels and to expand the literary market.

This serialisation of novels meant that the reading experience of nineteenth-century readers was quite different from our own: they often followed the fates of their favourite characters over several months, if not years, which resulted in a special intimacy with the story and the characters. (And, oh dear, the extended suspense!) But not only novels were published as serials: the Victorians read every genre in serial form, fiction and non-fiction alike.

10 February 2008

The Love Cycle:
Romance Novels and the Working Girl

By Eliza Tucker

At the turn of the twentieth century, London, Paris, and New York attracted dreamers and bohemians. Young suburban women who, when finished with as much school as their parents deemed necessary, shuffled into big cities in search of employment. Excited by stories of girls making the munificent sum of $8 per week, young women went from milliner to florist, factory to laundry-room in search of the ideal job and the ideal wage.

The Industrial Revolution set more than just machines in motion. Working-class women were thrust into close proximity to men on a continual basis in every part of their lives. Girls were allowed to walk city streets, to dine with men in certain establishments, and to date without supervision without suffering much in the way of tarnished reputations. In many ways, the working-class woman enjoyed more freedom than the lady of fashion.

With literacy on the rise, romance lived in the dress factories and sweatshops, where the hopeful young employees read books during breaks, hoping for better lives. In The Long Day by Dorothy Richardson, the narrator considers the role of fiction in the lives of working girls of her era, New York City in 1905:

Promptly at half-past twelve the awakening machinery called us back to the workaday world. Story-books were tucked away, and their entranced readers dragged themselves back to the machines and steaming paste-pots, to dream and talk as they worked, not of their own fellows of last night’s masquerade, but of bankers and mill-owners who in fiction have wooed and won and honorably wedded just such poor toilers as they themselves.
This entertaining discourse over the daily task of box-making follows:

IN WHICH PHOEBE AND MRS. SMITH HOLD FORTH UPON MUSIC AND LITERATURE

Don't you never read no story-books?" Mrs. Smith asked, stirring the paste-pot preparatory to the afternoon's work. She looked at me curiously out of her shrewd, snapping dark eyes as she awaited my answer. I was conscious that Mrs. Smith didn't like me for some reason or other, and I was anxious to propitiate her. I was pretty certain she thought me a boresome prig, and I determined I'd prove I wasn't. My confession of an omnivorous appetite for all sorts of story-books had the desired effect; and when I confessed further, that I liked best of all a real, tender, sentimental love-story, she asked amiably:

"How do you like 'Little Rosebud's Lovers'?"

"I've never read that," I replied. "Is it good?"

"It's fine," interposed Phoebe; "but I like 'Woven on Fate's Loom' better--don't you?" The last addressed to Mrs. Smith.

"No, I can't say that's my impinion," returned our vis-à-vis, with a judicious tipping of the head to one side as she soused her dripping paste-brush over the strips. "Not but what 'Woven on Fate's Loom' is a good story in its way, either, for them that likes that sort of story. But I think 'Little Rosebud's Lovers' is more int'resting, besides being better wrote."

"And that's just what I don't like about it," retorted Phoebe, her fingers traveling like lightning up and down the corners of the boxes. "You like this hot-air talk, and I don't; and the way them fellows and girls shoot hot-air at each other in that there 'Little Rosebud's Lovers' is enough to beat the street-cars!"
Phoebe goes on to tell the story of 'Little Rosebud's Lovers,' which is complete with an exotic setting (South Carolina), two lovely sisters (but only Rosebud had a demeanor to match her physical beauty; the other, Maud was jealous and spiteful), and Harvard-grad lover (who turned out to be 'a villain of the deepest dye'). The story-book fans go on to discuss the plot holes in a way that would fit well on a current-day lit forum:

"Where did she get the money to come to New York with?" interrupted the practical Phoebe. "That's something I don't understand. If she didn't have no money to hire a room at a hotel down in South Carolina for overnight, I'd like to know where she got the money for a railroad ticket."

"Well, that's just all you know about them swells," retorted Mrs. Smith. "I suppose a rich man's daughter like that can travel around all over the country on a pass."
The banter continues for a chapter, and gives us a great look into the origins of romance, while the book glimpses how average girls fit courtship and passion into otherwise taxing lives. Write on, romance authors!