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Byron's Letters and Journals #1

The Works of Lord Byron: Letters and Journals. Vol. 1

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This book was converted from its physical edition to the digital format by a community of volunteers. You may find it for free on the web. Purchase of the Kindle edition includes wireless delivery.

338 pages, Kindle Edition

First published January 1, 1898

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About the author

Lord Byron

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George Gordon Byron (invariably known as Lord Byron), later Noel, 6th Baron Byron of Rochdale FRS was a British poet and a leading figure in Romanticism. Amongst Byron's best-known works are the brief poems She Walks in Beauty, When We Two Parted, and So, we'll go no more a roving, in addition to the narrative poems Childe Harold's Pilgrimage and Don Juan. He is regarded as one of the greatest British poets and remains widely read and influential, both in the English-speaking world and beyond.

Byron's notabilty rests not only on his writings but also on his life, which featured upper-class living, numerous love affairs, debts, and separation. He was notably described by Lady Caroline Lamb as "mad, bad, and dangerous to know". Byron served as a regional leader of Italy's revolutionary organization, the Carbonari, in its struggle against Austria. He later travelled to fight against the Ottoman Empire in the Greek War of Independence, for which Greeks revere him as a national hero. He died from a fever contracted while in Messolonghi in Greece.

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Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews
Profile Image for Nick Imrie.
329 reviews186 followers
February 20, 2018
When reading this book, I couldn't help but think of Georgette Heyer. I don't know who would be more offended by that.

Partly this was because of Byron's witty turns of phrase and descriptions of the world around him. Like this:
The intelligence of London cannot be interesting to you, who have rusticated all your life - the annals of routs, riots, balls and boxing-matches, cards and crim. cons., parliamenary discussion, political details, masquerades, mechanics, Argyle Street Institution and aquatic races, love and lotteries, Brooke's and Buonaparte, opera-singers and oratories, wine, women, wax-work, and weathercocks, can't accord with your insulated ideas of decorum and other silly expressions not inserted in our vocabulary.

Crim. cons.! I was almost sure that Heyer had made that one up, or it was really a 1930s word, because I've never seen it used anywhere except in her novels, but here it is. Byron is a good prose writer, and there are some wonderful jokes and phrases. Here's Moore describing Byron singing while Miss Pigot played:
"It is very odd," he said to Miss Pigot, "I sing much better to your playing than to any one else's."
"That is," she answered, "because I play to your singing."

Byron's even funny when he's miserable, which seems like most of the time, because he has a terrible relationship with his mother but has to live at home due to his financial troubles:
You speak of the charms of Southwell; the Place I abhor. The Fact is I remain here because I can appear no where else, being completely done up. Wine and Women have dished your humble Servant, not a Sou to be had; all over; condemned to exist (I cannot say live) at this Crater of Dullness till my Lease of Infancy expires.

Of course, hating his mother wasn't the only thing Byron was doing:
I have lost 18lbs in my weight, that is one Stone & 4 pounds since January, this was ascertained last Wednesday, on account of a Bet with an acquaintance. However, don't be alarmed; I have taken every means to accomplish the end, by violent exercise and Fasting, as I found myself too plump. I shall continue my Exertions, having no other amusement; I wear seven Waistcoats and a great Coat, run, and play at cricket in this Dress, till quite exhausted by excessive perspiration, use the Hip Bath daily; eat only a quarter of a pound of Butcher's Meat in 24 hours, no Suppers or Breakfast, only one meal a day; drink no malt liquor, but a little Wine, and take Physic ocasionally. But these means my Ribs display Skin of no great thickness, & my Clothes have been taken in nearly half a yard.

I read it and had one of those moments where people from the past seem suddenly very modern. Byron sounds like nothing so much as the online fitness gurus of the paleoesque set, who are always advocating cold showers, low carbs, and long fasts.

The other thing that put my in mind of Georgette Heyer was Byron's money problems. In The Grand Sophy, one of her young cousins has money troubles and goes to a Jew for a loan. Sophy cleverly forces the moneylender to give up the ring taken for security and any hope of repayment, since lending to minors is illegal. I always thought of that as a rather painful anti-semetic charicature in an otherwise wonderful book - but Byron had the exact same experience and, like Sophy, Byron's mum doesn't think much of paying back people who make illegal high-interest loans to minors, especially when, 'There is some Trades People at Nottingham that will be completely ruined if he does not pay them, which I would not have happen for the whole world.'

I think, on the whole, I liked Byron and enjoyed the letters, as much as one can the early letters of a boy before he reaches 21. I don't suppose the letters of 10-year-old Byron would be of any interest to anyone if it wasn't for his later fame. He adolescence is mostly complaining bitterly about his overbearing mother, and as soon as he gets out from under her he is constantly writing to his lawyer begging for advance on his allowance. There are so many of those letters that they weren't all included, as the editor says, 'Enough of these have been printed to indicate the pecuniary difficulties which undoubtably influenced his life and character; but it was not considered necessary to publish the whole series. Men of genius ask money from their lawyers in the same language and with the same arguments, as the most ordinary persons.'

Byron was as I expected in many ways: sharp, bitter, witty, moody, and more than a little misogynistic. I worked hard to forgive him that, since I probably would be too if I had his mother. I wasn't expecting to find that he was also painfully shy, which may account for people so often finding him haughty, but on the other hand he certainly does have all the usual snobberies and arrogance of a British nobleman. He was more humble than I expected - which I know sounds odd just after calling him arrogant - but he seemed to be full of contradictions. And above all, he does seem to have been very good to his friends, some of his letters to them are very touching.

He really comes into his own when he finally escapes Cambridge and travels around the Ottoman empire, swimming the Hellespont in emulation of Leander (which he must've been very proud of since he wrote to absolutely everybody about it!). And, in another moment where it all seems very modern, he won't stop complaining about his English servant, because the servant won't stop complaining about the lack of tea, the ghastly foreign food, and how much he misses his wife! Never change, English people! I bet he got a terrible sunburn as well.
Profile Image for Fazackerly Toast.
409 reviews20 followers
December 6, 2015
I don't suppose anyone would be reading these, which do not go up to that morning when he woke up and found himself famous, if it were not the wonderful lord Byron, mad, bad and dangerous to know
Profile Image for Diamond.
342 reviews211 followers
April 14, 2017
Ok I didn't read this this year for the first time, but it was a lovely re-read. Time to shelve (literally) for later.
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