[Vwoolf] Bloomsbury-bashing

[Mark Hussey]

Not sure why anyone would want to waste their time on this old buffer's
ramblings, but here Heffer goes again. (It is possible to register for a
free account to have full access to a limited number of articles; the
readers' comments are even more depressing and ill-informed than Heffer's
nonsense):

 

 

Last summer, at my wife's suggestion, we went to
<https://www.telegraph.co.uk/art/what-to-see/charleston-farmhouse-review-blo
omsbury-sets-radical-spirit-restored/> Charleston Farmhouse in Sussex, a
place of pilgrimage for devotees of the Bloomsbury Group. In the Twenties,
this collection of writers and artists supposedly changed - in their view,
modernised - British culture. Charleston was acquired by
<https://www.telegraph.co.uk/art/artists/time-save-vanessa-bell-beasts-bloom
sbury/> Vanessa Bell, sister of
<https://www.telegraph.co.uk/books/authors/virginia-woolf-remains-one-litera
tures-alluring-writers/> Virginia Woolf, during the Great War. Her husband
was Clive Bell, an art critic. However, Mrs Bell shared the house with
Duncan Grant, by whom she had a daughter, Angelica. Grant was homosexual,
and one of his boyfriends had been David Garnett, a novelist, whom Angelica
married. It is little wonder that biographies, diaries, films and television
programmes about the denizens of Bloomsbury seem to have such enduring
appeal.

But is it all a bit of a con? Charleston heaves with visitors. Yet the decor
- Bloomsbury colour schemes imposed on the walls, furniture and doors, the
paintings, even the lampshades - causes the uncouth, me among them, to
marvel at its crudity. It gave me the same sensation as seeing ancient cave
art, only without the anthropological resonance. One senses that most who go
to Charleston do so to commune with the spirit of Bloomsbury, which hangs
heavily over it. Leonard and Virginia Woolf were frequent visitors; so were
Roger Fry and Lytton Strachey.

Yet when one reads about these people, one soon realises the benefit of
Bloomsbury for those who were part of it: the mutual backslapping, with
everyone praising everyone else's work. The paintings of Grant and Bell are
not in the league of
<https://www.telegraph.co.uk/art/artists/work-meals-sex-untold-story-picasso
s-early-years/> Picasso; and yet many regard them with comparable reverence.
Not everyone has fallen under the spell: in 1935, the Cunard Line
commissioned Grant to design murals for the first-class lounge of the Queen
Mary, but ordered them to be removed once they saw them the following year.

The literary side of Bloomsbury continues to capture the imagination of
successive generations; and Woolf and Strachey, from the group's hard core,
are the most prominent. (EM Forster, often accused of being a Bloomsbury
man, had far more diverse connections.) Both Woolf and Strachey merit more
detailed consideration than there is space for here, but a general
observation about each will suffice.

Woolf was brilliant at conveying her own psychoses in her prose, and in her
adoption of the stream of consciousness as developed by Proust and
<https://www.telegraph.co.uk/art/artists/how-james-joyces-ulysses-inspired-g
ood--and-bad--art/> Joyce. I have yet to detect any originality in her
literary conceptions, although she was capable of effective communication of
scenes, characters and ideas. Her fiction is laced with her snobbery, and
her criticism throbs with it: if one finds such things amusing, then Woolf
is a hoot.

Strachey had an entirely destructive mentality. Eminent Victorians (1918),
praised for its wit, makes cheap laughs out of twisting the truth. His essay
on Thomas Arnold is a travesty, and his decision to mock a culture that made
Britain into the world's leading power is instructive - though only of
Strachey himself. He shared the self-obsession of the rest of the group, who
were united above all by an unshakeable belief in their superiority. Perhaps
the Bloomsberries were rather superior in their time. Happily, the
intervening years have given the rest of us the chance to catch up, and see
through their collective self-regard.

 

 

From: Vwoolf [mailto:vwoolf-bounces+mhussey=verizon.net at lists.osu.edu] On
Behalf Of Neverow, Vara S. via Vwoolf
Sent: Friday, March 22, 2019 10:00 AM
To: vwoolf listserve
Subject: [Vwoolf] Bloomsbury-bashing

 

Greetings,

Possibly of interest is a link below to an article in the Telegraph. The
article seems to be is dedicated to Bloomsbury-bashing. Alas, the article is
only accessible to subscribers. Perhaps someone who has access will be able
to share it with those of us who do not. 

https://www.telegraph.co.uk/books/what-to-read/snobbish-crude-self-obsessed-
has-bloomsbury-group-lost-bloom/ 


 
<https://wwwtelegraph.co.uk/books/what-to-read/snobbish-crude-self-obsessed-
has-bloomsbury-group-lost-bloom/> 

 
<https://www.telegraph.co.uk/books/what-to-read/snobbish-crude-self-obsessed
-has-bloomsbury-group-lost-bloom/> Snobbish, crude and self-obsessed: has
the Bloomsbury Group lost its bloom? - telegraph.co.uk

www.telegraph.co.uk

L ast summer, at my wife's suggestion, we went to Charleston Farmhouse in
Sussex, a place of pilgrimage for devotees of the Bloomsbury Group. In the
Twenties, this collection of writers and ...




Best,

Vara

Vara Neverow
Department of English
Southern Connecticut State University
New Haven, CT 06515
203-392-6717
neverowv1 at southernct.edu 

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