Susan Rowley Richmond Lee, Aka Curtis Yorke

Pam’s Pictorama Post: Today is a book day here at Pictorama. You all know that periodically I share something I have dived into, usually a late 19th or early 20th century author. (Other examples include my passion for series books found in posts here and here – or my recent passion for the author Rosa Mulholland, and the first post about her can be found here.) By coincidence this year on my birthday I picked up a book, which like last year’s Rosa Mulholland find, has sparked reading a series of books by the author. While Mulholland is an Irish writer who is sort of all about being Irish, Susan Rowley Richmond Lee (quite a name!) is a Scottish writer who penned under the, blissfully simple, name of Curtis Yorke. Really, these are the only similarities between the two writers. I guess I should give a bit of spoiler alert on plots – really just for the third book. These books don’t have a lot of plot surprises however; it’s mostly about how you get there.

Her available autobiography is very thin. She was born in Scotland in 1854 (d. 1930) and educated in Glasgow. She married a mining engineer, John Wilson Richmond Lee, and they moved to Kensington. She published her first book in 1886, That Little Girl, and went on to write 50 books. That brief bio is all we appear to know about her and as noted and also differing from Mulholland her Scottish nationality is not a dominant feature of her writing. You could easily just assume she is British.

Birthday purchase from The Strand which kicked off the reading bonanza.

I have read three of her books, starting with The Wild Ruthvens which I purchased at The Strand bookstore on my birthday as mentioned. Her books all seem to weigh in at about 350 pages. The Wild Ruthvens is what was called a juvenile and today I guess would be a young adult novel. It is the story of a family of essentially very unruly kids (naughty to the point of being unlikeable at times) who are minus parents and raised by an elderly aunt with the occasionally intervention of a somewhat younger uncle and his periodic attempts to tame them. A cousin who was crippled in a riding accident is thrown into the mix and is one of the forces that slowly changes the family dynamic. Published in 1899 (from the Gift Book Series for Boys and Girls) by L.C. Page and Company, my entry into her work 13 years in clearly shows she knows what she is doing when writing a book. The plot of this, and her other books I have read thus far, is not especially complicated and in particular she does not really compete with Rosa Mulholland in this way. However, it is easy to see why she was popular and The Wild Ruthvens appears to be one of her most popular books, hence its availability in the Rare Book Room at The Strand.

At $75 before shipping and with a broken spine, this seems a bit dear.

Physical copies of her books are not widely available (some are for sale with bizarrely huge prices for a completely unknown author – a waterlogged copy of one is up for $350 on eBay), however I have found a cache of them scanned for free reading via Google Play Books and I have read two more that way and have a third underway. A warning that at times the scanning is messy and amateurish (I am loathe to complain as otherwise these books wouldn’t exist) but in the end all the pages do appear to be there so just push forward. Goodreads appears to have no reviews or ratings of any of her books yet (although I did come across a request from someone to add a book) and of course I mean to change that. Even the Wikipedia listing for her books is only partial (select) if we know she published 50.

A copy for a good price on eBay. As mentioned, I read it for free on Google Books.

With each book I have read I like her more and that may have something to do with the fact that, by coincidence, each has taken me further in her career. My second read was The Medlicotts: An Uneventful Family Chronicle (1895) published by Jarrold & Sons. It would appear that this might be her second most available book. A somewhat typical tale of a young woman who goes into service as a governess. While this family isn’t missing parents, their role is thoroughly superseded by the grandmother who is the heart of the house and a wonderfully defined character. One of the children is a little girl nicknamed Batty which seems like an unfortunate nickname – she is an aspiring writer and I note this to come back to it in a minute.

Third and most recent read is The World and Delia, 1907. Now first and foremost a warning, a reprint of this book is for sale on Amazon (I read a free copy on Google Books) however their description of the plot is entirely wrong. Maybe AI wrote it? I have no idea. It isn’t that I wouldn’t like to read the one the described there but it isn’t this book. The plot of this one is actually a bit interesting however. A young woman has been raised by maiden aunts and is entirely unworldly, somehow she is introduced to a widowed man and her isolation and sadness at not being a part of the world so captures him that he asks her to marry him within days of meeting her. He lives in a fairly rural area (so she actually goes from living in London but totally isolated to this town where she gets to engage out in the world more) and by plot planning coincidence her only acquaintance her own age she has ends up marrying and moving into an estate nearby.

The story is of how she and her husband grow to love each other in a one step forward, two steps back sort of fashion. As above, the odd thing is a character named Batty who is a middle-aged housekeeper! It is such a distinctive nickname – did she mean for us to know it is the young girl as above in The Medlicotts? No indication is ultimately given – just an insider notation within her universe, I guess. It did leave me wondering how the young girl above could have evolved into this character but not sure if there is ever going to be an explanation. Meanwhile, warnings on this one include a not very contemporary analysis of modern (new) women and a smidge of unexpected racism.

There you have it for now. I have two more downloaded and ready to go so we will see where it takes me – clearly still much to mine in the vein of early women authors of Great Britain.

Rosa Mulholland Part Two: Searching for the Sweet Spot

Pam’s Pictorama Post: Several weeks ago I embarked on reading a new late 19th-early 20th century author, Rosa Mulholland, and wrote a post about her that can be read here. I’ve subsequently read several more books and thought I would update you a bit on my findings. (Recovering from mouth surgeries has given me much reading time – in addition to these books I polished off at least as many contemporary novels!)

For those just tuning in, Mulholland (who also wrote under the name Gilbert) was a prolific Irish writer of the late 19th to early 20th century. Many of these volumes, virtually all illustrated fairly profusely, are beautiful old editions which is what attracted me when I bought the first volume.

I have read several more since I last reported and found one I cannot seem to get into, but more about that in a bit. Terry, Or, She Ought to Have Been a Boy, was one of the few books I was able to find and read online. It was published in 1902 and is a novella that seems to have been a sort of chapter book for older children, or one that could be read to them.

I didn’t love it – for me it felt like it never quite got all the way off the ground. It is about a very obstreperous and wildly undisciplined little girl and her brother who tags along with her exploits. Said children are left with an infirm grandmother who leaves their care largely to a housekeeper. A lot of chaos ensues. Terry is a Rosa Mulholland-type character as a child who we never get to follow into adulthood.

Not my copy as I read it online. Pretty though!

Hettie Gray: Or Nobody’s Bairn (1883) is short novel, also available online and I gather there is a reprint that is widely available. This is a more interesting story where Hettie is a foundling (of high birth of course) who literally washes up ashore and is taken in by a poor village couple. As a small child (with a bit of a wild streak) she is found one day by a wealthy woman who literally scoops her up and takes her off. She spoils her terribly and makes her into a bit of a wretch and then the wealthy woman promptly dies leaving Hettie largely friendless. We watch her original good nature re-emerge under adversity.

Mulholland has a few ongoing fascinations she returns to again and again in her writing – one is strong willed women and the difficulties they have fitting into the narrow society of the time (they are generally somewhat tamed but that will also pays off in other ways), and another is class structure. These two things play together as evidently to be poor and strong willed is seen as one thing but to be rich and strong willed another.

I don’t own this one yet, but there seems to be a fair amount of noise about it so am looking for it (1895).

The best of this lot was Cynthia’s Bonnet Shop (1900) and it is for me Mulland at her best. (I did purchase one of the first editions as shown here, but had to settle for one that is quite tatty in order ot make it more affordable!)

Although some of the usual tropes are present, Cynthia is part of a fatherless but otherwise large and intact family which is a nice switch. There is the requisite wealthy (but unpleasant and selfish) relative who inadvertently sets Cynthia on the path to establishing her own bonnet shop. There is a mysterious benefactor. Her London shop becomes wildly popular. Romances for the sisters ensue but skew some with a patent Mulholland, I love him but I think he loves you not me so I’ll step aside, bit of plot. It is a pleasantly long read and the characterization of the two older sisters is great and good fun.

Mulholland notably also has a thing for astronomy. This is the second book (My Sister Maisie being the other) that has a story line about a woman who aspires to being an astronomer. I have to imagine that it either was a personal interest of hers or she was close to a woman who was or wanted to be one. That is another quality of these novels – the women are striving for something but consistently fall short of achieving in the man’s world. I assume this was a factor of the time and place. Mulholland is several decades earlier than let’s say Francis Hodgson Burnett (I wrote about her adult fiction which I enjoyed immensely in a post here). Europe was behind the US in progress for women and I would guess Ireland a bit further behind still. People looking at Suffragettes more than a bit askance as they emerge there.

Another I don’t have but am interested in (1905).

The final book for today, Marcella Grace, An Irish Novel (1886), is a plot that is devoted entirely to class distinction and the inflammatory politics of Ireland at the time. As someone without a lot of background in the political history of Ireland I am not equipped to comment on the position she takes. It is clear that she is leaving some room for a dissenting view (some sympathy for the downtrodden who took the paths of taking up arms) although for all of that they are the evil forces who drive this particular plot forward. This does make for a different book and I appreciate that as she could start to feel a bit repetitive. However, while I enjoyed it I cannot say it was an absolute favorite.

There is one on my bedside pile that I have been unable to penetrate, Father Tim (1910). Unsurprisingly it is about a priest in Ireland. I’m not saying I won’t end up reading it but I have not yet been able to really engage with it. Perhaps the fact that it seems to be written from a man’s point of view isn’t working for me. If I manage to read it I will report.

Another one I am hankering for, 1889,

I’m not sure looking this over that I have precisely found the sweet spot in her writing. I want to say that 1900 seems to be a high water mark, but Terry, Or, She Ought to Have Been a Boy is shortly into the 20th century and was less promising. (I think I have to be careful to avoid these books meant for children – not true of all authors but for me it may be for her.)

I have one more hardcover book in the house to read, Narcissa’s Ring, 1916. I have been acquiring them as they become available. They are more widely available in Britain but the postage to ship a book is so outrageous it puts most of them out of reach. Given what I wrote about in the earlier post and this one, a true sweet spot has not yet emerged.

Rosa Mulholland: Part One

Pam’s Pictorama Post: If yesterday was devoted to a bit of what we’ve been watching here at Deitch Studio, today I will spend some time on what I have been reading. You may remember that as part of a much belated birthday celebration spent wandering around downtown with Kim, I purchased a rather beautifully bound volume by Rosa Mulholland with the intention of reading it. That volume, Our Sister Maisie, turned out to be an interesting sort of a point in her career to stumble onto and, written when she was 66 years old, it seems to have been one of her most popular books.

Volume I purchased as a belated birthday gift to myself in March at The Strand.

Her biography is interesting when considering her stories which deal a lot with the position of women in terms of money and livelihood at the time which she documents and considers. The daughter of a prominent doctor she came from a fairly well to do Irish family in Dublin. Other she first dabbled in painting (I have seen no evidence of it) she turned her hand to writing early and began trying to get published in her teens, including a novel at 15. One of the most interesting pieces of the tale is that early publication of her work caught the eye of an elderly Charles Dickens who not only encourage her but published her in one of his magazines and in a compilation with one of his own stories.

He bet on a good horse. She was very prolific with a list of upward of forty publications, mostly novels, to her credit. She wrote under at least three names I can find, Rosa Mulholland, Rosa Gilbert and very early on, Ruth Murray and seem to have published until a few years before her death and there was a healthy reprinting of her work which continues into the 1940’s. Gilbert is her married name – she married at the age of 50 to a well-known historian, Sir Thomas Gilbert, 12 years her senior. By marriage she therefore became Lady Gilbert.

If any of her writing was used for films I cannot find any evidence of it. I want to say that her books while very popular in Ireland and Great Britain they appear to have been less known here in the US. Really though the only evidence I have of that is that used contemporary copies of her books are mostly available in Britain.

Much like some of the other women authors I have written about previously (for starters, the adult novels of Francis Hodgson Burnett which can be found here, one about Mrs. George de Horne Vaizey here and an earlier one on Edna Ferber here) she is writing about the changing values and culture evolving around women’s emerging role in the late 19th and into the 20th century. Of the above mentioned authors, Francis Hodgson Burnett writes a bit about the other side of the Atlantic and especially the influence of the more forward Americans who visit there – generally very wealthy ones at that. Mrs. George de Horne Vaizey also writes about Britain but is poised a bit later.

A pretty if damaged volume for sale. I am waiting for a less expensive but equally beautiful volume.

Mulholland therefore is a bit unique in her entirely Irish perspective and generally a bit earlier than the women above. She recognizes that there is a problem where women’s only option for survival is the money their family could supply in the form of a life-long bit of capital to earn and be spent down and the marriage they make. Therefore nascent attempts to work among them are plot points – smart and ambitious women (much like herself we have to assume) are trying to break the mold either because they have been left with no money or are a simmering genius whose talent must find an outlet.

For all of that and knowing of her own life she can be a bit hard on these women – perhaps as society at the time was and it was the feeling of the day. I have read three of her books to date and in Our Sister Maisie there is a younger sister who yearns to be an architect – much like the young Mulholland she even has some of her designs used when she is teenager. Against all odds she makes it to architecture school and, although it is a bit unclear, drops out just before completion to marry her wealthy and wonderful heart’s desire.

I don’t have this one yet either but great title and nice opening page.

In a later volume, Twin Sisters, An Irish Tale published in 1913 she has a female character who, in charge of her late husband’s estate (it is thought of as her managing it for her son – as if she wasn’t also living off it in the meanwhile) invests aggressively in the stock market and makes but ultimately loses much of the fortune. She is criticized as having had no business trying to do the work of a man. But women like her are frequently left to their own devices and the heroine of the story arrives, along with her twin sister, in Britain from Spain as the wards of a family friend they never met. Penniless, the woman charitably agrees to help launch them into society and make agreeable marriages for them. Our girl Pipa isn’t having it though and takes work in an apple orchard in the country instead. Although she is roundly criticized for this, she is our heroine so needless to say she does the right thing – but of course she will end up with her best mate as well.

I’m also holding out for this illustrated version of this volume.

Mulholland’s books are a bit harder to track down than what I have enjoyed in recent years where there has been aplenty available online and in inexpensive used volumes. Rosa Muholland’s books tend to be beautifully bound, illustrated, volumes that are being sold at a premium because of that and despite the fact that there is not much demand to read them. Why more are not available electronically I cannot quite figure out. Perhaps she is just a bit early for for most people – or if the basis of those collections is based on American libraries and universities she may just not be in the right purview.

Clearly it would be a pity not to read this one in a beautiful illustrated volume like this one as well! Not in my collection – yet!

All this to say that while between the acquisition of physical volumes of her books, I grabbed one of her earlier works online and that was interesting and The Late Miss Hollingford was the story of hers, serialized in a magazine, that caught Dickens’s eye. Her descriptive powers were in greater force in her early writing, although her descriptions of the Irish country and seaside are also wonderful in Our Sister Maisie. The descriptions of the farm this young woman goes to live on are just cozy and great. (Yes, another orphaned girl-woman sent off to live with folks she hardly knows – this time her parents, who she barely knew, died of a fever in India leaving her a sufficient income although in reverse this time she is sent to live with people who don’t have money. The father was the perpetrator of a pyramid scheme and those seemed to be rampant at this time – I know the from the de Vaizey books among others!)

Illustration from the Late Miss Hollingford which I read electronically but with illustrations via Project Gutenberg.

I suspect there will be more to come on Ms. Mulholland and her writing as I am wading into the depths. I also suspect that Abe Books and others can expect to be seeing a whole lot of my pocket change in the near future. Stay tuned.