From 1900 to 1945: The Edwardians
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
The 20th century opened with great hope but also with some apprehension, for the new
century marked the final approach to a new millennium. For many, humankind was entering
upon an unprecedented era. H.G. Wells’s utopian studies, the aptly titled Anticipations of the
Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought (1901) and A
Modern Utopia (1905), both captured and qualified this optimistic mood and gave expression to
a common conviction that science and technology would transform the world in the century
ahead. To achieve such transformation, outmoded institutions and ideals had to be replaced by
ones more suited to the growth and liberation of the human spirit. The death of Queen Victoria in
1901 and the accession of Edward VII seemed to confirm that a franker, less inhibited era had
begun.
Many writers of the Edwardian period, drawing widely upon the realistic and naturalistic
conventions of the 19th century (upon Ibsen in drama and Balzac, Turgenev, Flaubert, Zola,
Eliot, and Dickens in fiction) and in tune with the anti-Aestheticism unleashed by the trial of the
archetypal Aesthete, Oscar Wilde, saw their task in the new century to be an unashamedly
didactic one. In a series of wittily iconoclastic plays, of which Man and Superman (performed
1905, published 1903) and Major Barbara (performed 1905, published 1907) are the most
substantial, George Bernard Shaw turned the Edwardian theater into an arena for debate upon the
principal concerns of the day: the question of political organization, the morality of armaments
and war, the function of class and of the professions, the validity of the family and of marriage,
and the issue of female emancipation. Nor was he alone in this, even if he was alone in the
brilliance of his comedy. John Galsworthy made use of the theater in Strife (1909) to explore the
conflict between capital and labor, and in Justice (1910) he lent his support to reform of the
penal system, while Harley Granville-Barker, whose revolutionary approach to stage direction
did much to change theatrical production in the period, dissected in The Voysey Inheritance
(performed 1905, published 1909) and Waste (performed 1907, published 1909) the hypocrisies
and deceit of upper-class and professional life.
Many Edwardian novelists were similarly eager to explore the shortcomings of English
social life. Wells—in Love and Mr. Lewisham (1900); Kipps (1905); Ann Veronica (1909), his
pro-suffragist novel; and The History of Mr. Polly (1910)—captured the frustrations of lower-
and middle-class existence, even though he relieved his accounts with many comic touches. In
Anna of the Five Towns (1902), Arnold Bennett detailed the constrictions of provincial life
among the self-made business classes in the area of England known as the Potteries; in The Man
of Property (1906), the first volume of The Forsyte Saga, Galsworthy described the destructive
possessiveness of the professional bourgeoisie; and, in Where Angels Fear to Tread (1905) and
The Longest Journey (1907), E.M. Forster portrayed with irony the insensitivity, self-repression,
and philistinism of the English middle classes.
These novelists, however, wrote more memorably when they allowed themselves a larger
perspective. In The Old Wives’ Tale (1908), Bennett showed the destructive effects of time on
the lives of individuals and communities and evoked a quality of pathos that he never matched in
his other fiction; in Tono-Bungay (1909), Wells showed the ominous consequences of the
uncontrolled developments taking place within a British society still dependent upon the
institutions of a long-defunct landed aristocracy; and in Howards End (1910), Forster showed
how little the rootless and self-important world of contemporary commerce cared for the more
rooted world of culture, although he acknowledged that commerce was a necessary evil.
Nevertheless, even as they perceived the difficulties of the present, most Edwardian novelists,
like their counterparts in the theater, held firmly to the belief not only that constructive change
was possible but also that this change could in some measure be advanced by their writing.
Other writers, including Thomas Hardy and Rudyard Kipling, who had established their
reputations during the previous century, and Hilaire Belloc, G.K. Chesterton, and Edward
Thomas, who established their reputations in the first decade of the new century, were less
confident about the future and sought to revive the traditional forms—the ballad, the narrative
poem, the satire, the fantasy, the topographical poem, and the essay—that in their view preserved
traditional sentiments and perceptions. The revival of traditional forms in the late 19th and early
20th century was not a unique event. There were many such revivals during the 20th century, and
the traditional poetry of A.E. Housman (whose book A Shropshire Lad, originally published in
1896, enjoyed huge popular success during World War I), Walter de la Mare, John Masefield,
Robert Graves, and Edmund Blunden represents an important and often neglected strand of
English literature in the first half of the century.
The most significant writing of the period, traditionalist or modern, was inspired by neither
hope nor apprehension but by bleaker feelings that the new century would witness the collapse of
a whole civilization. The new century had begun with Great Britain involved in the South
African War (the Boer War; 1899–1902), and it seemed to some that the British Empire was as
doomed to destruction, both from within and from without, as had been the Roman Empire. In
his poems on the South African War, Hardy (whose achievement as a poet in the 20th century
rivaled his achievement as a novelist in the 19th) questioned simply and sardonically the human
cost of empire building and established a tone and style that many British poets were to use in
the course of the century, while Kipling, who had done much to engender pride in empire, began
to speak in his verse and short stories of the burden of empire and the tribulations it would bring.
Novelist Henry JamesHenry James, glass plate negative, c. 1910.
No one captured the sense of an imperial civilization in decline more fully or subtly than
the expatriate American novelist Henry James. In The Portrait of a Lady (1881), he had briefly
anatomized the fatal loss of energy of the English ruling class and, in The Princess Casamassima
(1886), had described more directly the various instabilities that threatened its paternalistic rule.
He did so with regret: the patrician American admired in the English upper class its sense of
moral obligation to the community. By the turn of the century, however, he had noted a
disturbing change. In The Spoils of Poynton (1897) and What Maisie Knew (1897), members of
the upper class no longer seem troubled by the means adopted to achieve their morally dubious
ends. Great Britain had become indistinguishable from the other nations of the Old World, in
which an ugly rapacity had never been far from the surface. James’s dismay at this condition
gave to his subtle and compressed late fiction, The Wings of the Dove (1902), The Ambassadors
(1903), and The Golden Bowl (1904), much of its gravity and air of disenchantment.
James’s awareness of crisis affected the very form and style of his writing, for he was no
longer assured that the world about which he wrote was either coherent in itself or
unambiguously intelligible to its inhabitants. His fiction still presented characters within an
identifiable social world, but he found his characters and their world increasingly elusive and
enigmatic and his own grasp upon them, as he made clear in The Sacred Fount (1901), the
questionable consequence of artistic will.
Another expatriate novelist, Joseph Conrad (pseudonym of Józef Teodor Konrad
Korzeniowski, born in the Ukraine of Polish parents), shared James’s sense of crisis but
attributed it less to the decline of a specific civilization than to human failings. Man was a
solitary, romantic creature of will who at any cost imposed his meaning upon the world because
he could not endure a world that did not reflect his central place within it. In Almayer’s Folly
(1895) and Lord Jim (1900), he had seemed to sympathize with this predicament; but in Heart of
Darkness (1902), Nostromo (1904), The Secret Agent (1907), and Under Western Eyes (1911),
he detailed such imposition, and the psychological pathologies he increasingly associated with it,
without sympathy. He did so as a philosophical novelist whose concern with the mocking limits
of human knowledge affected not only the content of his fiction but also its very structure. His
writing itself is marked by gaps in the narrative, by narrators who do not fully grasp the
significance of the events they are retelling, and by characters who are unable to make
themselves understood. James and Conrad used many of the conventions of 19th-century realism
but transformed them to express what are considered to be peculiarly 20th-century
preoccupations and anxieties.
