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Morgan Robertson: The Man
Morgan Robertson was a famous sea story writer of the era. This work consists of articles written by his fellow-writers. He is the author who many believe predicted the sinking of the Titanic in 1912 with his book The Titan in 1898. In this book is Morgan Robertson with all his weaknesses and foibles and all the other things too, that made him a big man.
- GenresBiography
Paperback
First published August 1, 2004
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About the author
Morgan Robertson
153 books39 followersMorgan Andrew Robertson (1861 - 1915) was an American author of short stories and novels, as well as the self-proclaimed inventor of the periscope.
He is best remembered today as the author of Futility, or The Wreck of the Titan , an 1898 disaster novel noted for its similarities to the sinking of RMS Titanic fourteen years later.
He is best remembered today as the author of Futility, or The Wreck of the Titan , an 1898 disaster novel noted for its similarities to the sinking of RMS Titanic fourteen years later.
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Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews
October 2, 2021
The name Morgan Robertson is well-known exclusively within the Titanic coterie, and quite unknown anywhere else.
Yet when he died in 1915, this little commemorative anthology managed to paint the most vivid picture of his life and work without one solitary mention of the word ‘Titanic’ from start to finish.
Robertson was, of course, the author of the short novel that seemed to have forecast the historic sinking in uncanny detail in 1898. Along the way, I had somehow gained the impression of a low-powered grubstreet hack, fit only for the cheapest pulp magazines, and whom nobody wanted to work with anyway, because he was such an odd and unprepossessing individual. Clearly this was well off the mark, though the image presented here may be artificially positive (someone commented that editors who had despised him in his life were keenly eulogising him in death). And the few autobiographical fragments by Robertson himself suggest an uneasy relationship with the truth, when compared against others’ accounts.
Poverty is the big theme that dominates the story, though we are not entirely sure of the reasons for it. According to him, he was simply a poor businessman, never able to negotiate anything but the lowest fee for his work. It is left to others to report that he suffered long periods of writer’s block, while he himself admitted to some form of insanity (‘My skirmish with madness’), and in the latter half of his career, believed firmly that his hand was being steered by some force from outside, often falling back on hypnotism. There is also more than a suggestion of alcoholism, watered-down, so to speak, in his own account, but certainly a likely contributor to all that poverty.
Even at worst, he was a man of unusual creative imagination. His claim to have invented the periscope is disputed. (He claims that he couldn’t get it patented because a French author had written a story that ‘imagined’ the same design features.) He also invented several sailors’ knots, and could turn his hand to plumbing and other building skills, to keep the ever-present wolf from the door.
Having started as a merchant seaman, it is suggested that his mind never really came ashore, and he maintained the rolling gait and the weather eye, unable to live wholeheartedly as a creature of the city and the desk. He displays many of the same symptoms as Joseph Conrad, including that writer’s block, a stranger to domesticity - and women, as he confesses to fellow-hack Grace Miller White. His wife, never named, is a faint presence indeed, and we may wonder just how she coped with Robertson’s manic existence.
Yet when he died in 1915, this little commemorative anthology managed to paint the most vivid picture of his life and work without one solitary mention of the word ‘Titanic’ from start to finish.
Robertson was, of course, the author of the short novel that seemed to have forecast the historic sinking in uncanny detail in 1898. Along the way, I had somehow gained the impression of a low-powered grubstreet hack, fit only for the cheapest pulp magazines, and whom nobody wanted to work with anyway, because he was such an odd and unprepossessing individual. Clearly this was well off the mark, though the image presented here may be artificially positive (someone commented that editors who had despised him in his life were keenly eulogising him in death). And the few autobiographical fragments by Robertson himself suggest an uneasy relationship with the truth, when compared against others’ accounts.
Poverty is the big theme that dominates the story, though we are not entirely sure of the reasons for it. According to him, he was simply a poor businessman, never able to negotiate anything but the lowest fee for his work. It is left to others to report that he suffered long periods of writer’s block, while he himself admitted to some form of insanity (‘My skirmish with madness’), and in the latter half of his career, believed firmly that his hand was being steered by some force from outside, often falling back on hypnotism. There is also more than a suggestion of alcoholism, watered-down, so to speak, in his own account, but certainly a likely contributor to all that poverty.
Even at worst, he was a man of unusual creative imagination. His claim to have invented the periscope is disputed. (He claims that he couldn’t get it patented because a French author had written a story that ‘imagined’ the same design features.) He also invented several sailors’ knots, and could turn his hand to plumbing and other building skills, to keep the ever-present wolf from the door.
Having started as a merchant seaman, it is suggested that his mind never really came ashore, and he maintained the rolling gait and the weather eye, unable to live wholeheartedly as a creature of the city and the desk. He displays many of the same symptoms as Joseph Conrad, including that writer’s block, a stranger to domesticity - and women, as he confesses to fellow-hack Grace Miller White. His wife, never named, is a faint presence indeed, and we may wonder just how she coped with Robertson’s manic existence.
July 21, 2016
I found Morgan Robertson's tale to be interesting and comical. This man suffered greatly and I'm sure he didn't expect people to find this story as comical as I did.. but seriously he's bitching about dog hair, looking funny in suits, and injuring himself doing laundry.
Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews