How cat mania exploded in the early twentieth century, transforming cats from pests into beloved pets. In 1900, Britain and America were in the grip of a cat craze. An animal that had for centuries been seen as a household servant or urban nuisance had now become an object of pride and deep affection. From presidential and royal families who imported exotic breeds to working-class men competing for cash prizes for the fattest tabby, people became enthralled to the once-humble cat. Multiple industries sprung up to feed this new obsession, selling everything from veterinary services to leather bootees via dedicated cat magazines. Cats themselves were now traded for increasingly large sums of money, bolstered by elaborate pedigrees that claimed noble ancestry and promised aesthetic distinction. In Catland , Kathryn Hughes chronicles the cat craze of the early twentieth century through the life and career of Louis Wain. Wain's anthropomorphic drawings of cats in top hats falling in love, sipping champagne, golfing, driving cars, and piloting planes are some of the most instantly recognizable images from the era. His round-faced fluffy characters established the prototype for the modern cat, which cat "fanciers" were busily trying to achieve using their newfound knowledge of the latest scientific breeding techniques. Despite being a household name, Wain endured multiple bankruptcies and mental breakdowns, spending his last fifteen years in an asylum, drawing abstract and multicolored felines. But it was his ubiquitous anthropomorphic cats that helped usher the formerly reviled creatures into homes across Europe. Beautifully illustrated and based on new archival findings about Wain's life, the wider cat fancy, and the media frenzy it created, Catland chronicles the fascinating history of how the modern cat emerged.
Kathryn Hughes is a British journalist and biographer. She holds a PhD in Victorian History. She is a contributing editor to Prospect magazine as well as a book reviewer and commentator for the Guardian and BBC Radio. Hughes also teaches biographical studies at University of East Anglia in Norwich, U.K.
Librarian’s note: There is more than one author in the Goodreads database with this name.
Fascinating insight into the domestication of cats woven together with a biography of Louis Wain, several of whose lovely illustrations are in the book. Taking place amongst the changing world of the late 1800s this is an easy and enjoyable read. Recommended for anyone who loves or is interested in cats.
This book has two narratives that alternate chapters: 1) a social history of cats and 2) a biography of Louis Wain. As a cat lover, some parts were tough to read, but you have to remember the context of the times. Today, we spay and neuter our pets, but during the period this book covers, there was no such procedure. It's something to keep in mind if you're squeamish about what we in the 21st century would consider animal abuse. Also, there's quite a bit of British slang and other references that American audiences might not be familiar with. Finally, the social history narrative tends to drag a bit, especially in the final chapters. But all in all, this is an interesting look at how cats went from vermin to housepets, courtesy of Louis Wain's magnificent art.
According to Kathryn Hughes, the years between 1870 and 1939 were big for cats, as they underwent an image overhaul from tolerated working animals – or reviled pests – to beloved domestic companions. It was in this period, says Hughes, that cats ‘swapped the status of scullery servant for that of much-loved family member’. At the centre of her account is the eccentric (and more than a little tragic) artist Louis Wain, who became wildly famous in the late-19th and early-20th centuries for his anthropomorphic drawings of ‘cats living modern lives’. Catland, then, is a book about the creation of the modern cat and a biography of the man who drew them into being.
The book alternates between a focus on Wain’s life and an examination of the period’s wider cat culture. We learn about Britain’s first professional cat show in 1871, the criminal career of Arthur Edward Young (the first man to earn the nickname of ‘cat burglar’) and how the stereotype of the ‘mad cat lady’ developed. But while the book is primarily concerned with cultural history and biography, Hughes is also very skilled at analysing Wain’s art itself. One of her recurring themes is the way in which cats – and the various different relationships that humans constructed with them in this period – obliquely register different aspects of Victorian life and culture. For instance, Hughes describes the life of Wain’s mother, Julie, and details the prevalent association between cats and idealised representations of motherhood in earlier Victorian art alongside an analysis of several of Wain’s illustrations of (highly anthropomorphised) mother cats, who tend to ‘look anxious, bored and even angry, as if they would rather be doing something else entirely’. Cats were, as Hughes describes, often ambiguously gendered. One of the book’s most interesting chapters delves into the peculiar (and, to modern eyes, counterintuitive) way in which cats figured in anti-suffragette propaganda in the early 1900s. The cat, like the suffragette, could be pejoratively framed as embodying the worst aspects of unaccountable femininity: ‘arbitrary and cruel, prey to fashionable whims and unaccountable desires … slinky and spiteful, loyal to no one but themselves’. At the same time, campaigners for women’s rights derided the Prisoners Temporary Discharge for Ill-Health Act (1913) – which allowed medical authorities to authorise the temporary release of hunger-striking prisoners from jail, only to immediately rearrest them as soon as they regained their health – as the ‘Cat and Mouse Act’. The cat’s unaccountable fickleness and predatory cruelty, then, could be used to castigate both the suffragettes and the powerful patriarchal authorities arrayed against them.
I am SO disappointed!! As a DEDICATED cat lover, I was really excited about this book and was looking forward to a book that would make me smile... until I started reading it. I could only endure 5 chapters.I had not heard of Louis Wain and was very sorry to read about his mental health problems, but that was a "downer" that was worth reporting. What really put me off and ruined my reading pleasure were the repeated instances of cruelty to cats. This was not what readers attracted to this book expect or want to read. I considered actually giving the book only one star except for the insert of colorful cat pictures by Wain in the book. They DID make me smile a lot as I enjoyed them. However, even on the drawing line I was disappointed. There were many black and white pictures throughout the book, but they were so small it was extremely difficult to see the details, and the black ink needed to be darker to make it easier to see the pictures . Boo to the publisher, Johns Hopkins Press. The historical research the author did for the book was truly impressive. It's a shame the result was not equally impressive.
DNF I was not expecting to have all of these horrible abuses and violence against cats. The history of Louis Wain and the popularity of cats is one thing, the horrific treatment of cats is another. I don’t understand why she felt the need to juxtapose the two. And the comparison of the way cats were treated to the way “the dark continent” (Africa) is just tone deaf.
Üks neid raamatuid, mille puhul saad järelsõnas vähemalt selge vastuse küsimusele "mis pagana pärast oli vaja selline raamat üldse kirjutada". Vb autor ise muidugi ei mõelnud seda selle küsimuse vastusena otseselt. Aga järjekordne lockdowni-projekt. Ehk siis: mida teeb inimene, kellel kohe üldse midagi muud teha ei ole:P
Nii ongi kokku saanud veider kompott: korraga räägitakse sellest, kuidas kassid Edwardi-ajastu (ja hilisemal) Inglismaal populaarseks said (noh, et kuidas hulkuvast hiirekütist sai loom, keda lubati diivanile, käidi vaatamas näitustel ja joonistati postkaartidele)... ja siis ühest kunstnikust, kes maalis antropomorfiseeritud kasse (Louis Wain, väidetavalt väga kuulus, ma ei ole elus enne kuulnud seda nime).
Kasside osa oli kohati päris hariv, aga selle Waini osas ei tekkinud mul lõpuni huvi. Pildid mulle tegelikult meeldisid, aga samas, kassipilt on nagu pizza - hea isegi siis, kui ta on halb:P
Fakt, mis kogu sellest loost meelde jääb: see, nagu oleks muistsed egiptlased kasse kummardanud, on müüt. Väljakaevamistel leitud kassimuumiad on põhimõtteliselt... iidne suveniiripood, ja selle äri käigushoidmiseks peeti kassifarme, kus siis mõnenädalased kiisud maha koksati ja topisteks tehti.
I had expected this book to be niche, but not quite so niche as it turned out to be.
When my mother-in-law saw Catland on my Christmas list, I excitedly told her, "It's about the rise in popularity of cats in popular culture in the late 19th and early 20th centuries! And there's also stuff about the origins of things like cat food and cat shows!" A dog person, she just raised a worried eyebrow, but still very kindly chose to buy it for me. I guess she knows my love of cats (not to mention weird history) can't be helped.
It turns out Catland is pretty much exactly as I'd described it to her, with the addition of alternating chapters about the life of cat artist extraordinaire Louis Wain.
And yet, I was a bit disappointed by it. In fact, while I'd rate this a 5 in terms of the author's clear love of her subject, I'd probably give it a 3.5 in terms of organization and the overall message.
Because for Hughes, "Catland" really comes down to England. She does mention other places where people were also becoming cat-obsessed (or had been already), but usually in a cursory way. This is fine, but I wish the book's blurb could have said that. Instead, I was surprised by the way this "new" fascination with cats was presented, when the French and the Japanese, among other cultures, had already taken forays into Catland, in some cases centuries earlier. To be fair, these and other places/cultures are sometimes mentioned in the book, but it's fleeting and weirdly enough there's nothing about cats in the visual arts in these and other places. I was downright surprised, in fact, that Japanese engravings of everything from ordinary mortal cats to yokai like bakeneko got no mention whatsoever. Nor did Steinlen's amazing cat drawings and posters. I mean, not even a mention of the iconic Chat Noir poster and the symbolic role of cats in mid- to late 19th century Parisian culture? Even Hughes' examples of historic hate for cats aren't sadly common practices of cruelty in the Middle Ages (France and Belgium alone had some doozies, sad to say), but one rather obscure incident.
Instead, England (specifically England, not even the UK as a whole) seems like the epicenter of both the world and all things feline. There's still so much ground to cover even there, and you definitely come out of this book having learned a lot, but I think I was expecting a more global look at cats' rise to popularity, not to mention prior examples from everywhere from Ancient Rome to fin de siècle Paris.
Ancient Egypt is briefly mentioned, but Hughes uses one archaeological discovery as confirmation that the Egyptians didn't worship cats. I'm no expert, but I've read enough about both cats and Ancient Egypt to know that the answer to this is far more complex.
But that's just one of many cases of conjecture in this book, another thing I wasn't really a fan of. Hughes often uses declarative statements when giving her interpretations of Wain's cat art, for instance. Sometimes there might be some evidence of the artist's intent, but most of the time it's just her saying that an image of two girl cat with cat dolls look like worried, depressed mothers. I came out of the book feeling that as much as Hughes is fascinated by Wain, she's more than a little creeped out by a lot of his work, which seems like it was generally adored by the public and seen as harmless.
There's also a sense of artistic and cultural isolation that goes beyond cat-related matters here. For instance, Hughes often insists that violent images in Wain's cat postcards and illustrations are exceptional...but does she not know how mean and weird and often violent Victorian/Edwardian Christmas and Valentines Day cards were? I feel like this is something she must have come across in her research, but it's not brought up for some reason.
Speaking of "not brought up", I've never read a history book, even a popular history book, that doesn't have citations or footnotes or some kind of official Works Cited page. Hughes does refer to many different references and works, and she does have a part at the end of the book where she mentions the sources and resources that were most useful to her. But a good bulk of the information in the book is uncited. It's cool that Hughes took this informal approach, and I can understand why someone who's extensively researched a topic might find it exhausting or pointless to include citations/references for everything, but still. When some of the things she claimed felt especially dubious or outlandish, a citation would have been helpful. It wouldn't have even cluttered up the book; I've read lots of delightful popular histories where, for instance, citations and notes go at the end of the chapter and you can just skip over them if you don't care.
I'm not surprised that Catland has garnered praise and won accolades -- it's a very readable, interesting, charming book. But another reason I didn't come out of it as satisfied as I would have liked, in fact, is part of what makes it so readable. While the Wain-related chapters more or less go in chronological order, the other subjects in the book are often brought up sort of willy-nilly, and are organized by theme rather than chronology. So you get a bit less of a sense of the evolution of English cat trends than you might have.
Still, if you love cats, England, Louis Wain, and/or weird history (the chapters on the Cat Meat Man, the possible use of taxedermied cats in novelty photo postcards, and the debunking of Wain's supposed mental decline as seen by his evolving artistic style are truly fascinating), this is a very pleasant read and one you probably won't want to miss.
...TRIGGER WARNING: Violence towards/killing of cats. Unfortunately, since this is a history of people and cats, unfortunately there are numerous accounts of cruelty and violence by the former towards the latter. The author doesn't linger or, in most cases, get overly descriptive about these instances, but they are mentioned and you will see a few taxedermied cat photos (though they're in whimsical set-ups (dressed in clothes, etc.) created by that era's taxedermists). Personally, even as a die-hard cat lady, I wasn't overly bothered by these things, I think because, as a fan of cat-related history and Victorian England, I pretty much knew what I was in for. Still, it wasn't always easy reading. So this is something you may need to keep in mind.
DNF this is not a completely factual book. There is opinion and assumptions posed as fact and very harsh, unnecessary judgments thrown in. I lost trust that the author was speaking unbiased truths or assumptions made based on evidence and therefore found it pointless to continue reading.
The animal abuse thrown in with no warning is also unnecessary in detail and was clearly used as some kind of shock factor.
Beautiful edition and very readable history (though sometimes the prose is quite cute). I think it suffered slightly from being ‘not a Louis Wain’ biography while still having such a large emphasis on him, just because we jumped around in his timeline a fair bit in order to work through the topics thematically, which was sometimes confusing if you’re like me and inadvertently approach history in the manner of a dateless continuum
Very interesting read on the domestication of cats in Victorian England, filled with curious trivia (and some I’d rather not have found out about). It’s also a look into Louis Wain’s life and cat-focused work. 10/10 recommend if you’re a cat lover.
Now that cats have taken over the internet, it may be hard (and sad) to think that not so long ago, they were mostly ignored, if not persecuted or even tormented. Street cats, alley cats, farm cats, tolerated for their vermin-control skills and occasionally their fur, and not much else; they skulked, lurked, caterwauled, and bred. And then, late in 19th century England, it changed – partly thanks to an eccentric artist and illustrator named Louis Wain. Kathryn Hughes’ book tells the story of the man, his art, his era, and the cats.
He freelanced his drawings to newspapers and popular magazines, dashing off sketches of fairs, livestock shows, gardens, and the occasional pampered pooch. As the only son of a widowed mother and brother to five sisters, he was expected to serve as the family’s main support – a strain on anyone’s mental health. And then he did the unthinkable: he married his sisters’ considerably older governess. During their brief marriage (she died of cancer only a few years later), she took in a winsome tuxedo cat they named Peter. Louis began to draw Peter, and cats took over his art. Holiday supplements, advertising, greeting cards, all swarming with anthropomorphic cats. Dressed as humans, they caroused, bickered, got drunk, went boating or tobogganing, promenading, picnicking, scolding, sulking, playing tennis, serving as judges… they were everywhere. But Louis was an artist, not a businessman, and didn’t bother himself about copyrights and such, so while his cats were on everyone’s walls and tables, he was always broke and relied on employers and friends to keep a roof over his head.
The cats had it made. Wildly popular, cats started to become status symbols and business opportunities. Ferocious rivalries sprang up among fanciers and breeders; cat shows drew crowds and prizes. Women were at the forefront of this movement, and the cats also purred their way quietly into the Victorian gay community.
Alas, poor Louis. Mental illness shadowed his family; like one of his sisters, he spent his final years in a series of psychiatric hospitals, funded by donations solicited by the likes of H.G. Wells, John Galsworthy, Rudyard Kipling, and even the prime minister Ramsay MacDonald. He happily painted all day, every day, described as a “quiet, amiable old gentleman.” His later works developed into obsessively detailed patterns of abstraction that presaged the psychedelic art of the 1960s, but the cats were still in there.
Hughes’ breezy (sometimes a bit too breezy) tour of the era rambles and swerves, leaping back and forth across decades. An excursion into the profession of London’s cat’s-meat men is fun and interesting; a creepy examination of a fad for dioramas constructed out of dead kittens (or, worse, kitten parts) is not. The use of cats in ugly anti-suffrage propaganda is unsettling. As a historian, Hughes observes cultural mores, prejudices and stereotypes as she must, very carefully refraining from passing judgement – even when it seemed to be called for.
I wished – as I often do – that the illustrations were better. There are plenty of them, which is good, and one handsome selection of color plates, but many of them are tiny, muddy, black-and-white smudges that are hardly worth the inclusion. But overall it’s a fascinating look at a social trend, and the role played by one devoted artist in helping cats wind their way to our hearthsides.
And for fun and some poignancy, if not full historical accuracy, the Amazon film The Electrical Life of Louis Wain is a touching biopic starring Benedict Cumberbatch (who loves cats) and Claire Foy (not so much...). The director refused to use any AI / CGI cats, all the "extras" being trained with love, food rewards, and lots and lots of clicking. Worth a watch.
This could have been like a third of the length, like it had a lot of information i cant deny that, but some might say… too much information? And a lot of it was not very interesting to be honest
Also i get people hated cats but do we need to talk about animal abuse and killing cats that much?
‘To love a cat was very like being in love with a straight man. All that emotional investment rewarded by emotional distance and even moments of what felt like distain.’
This book is a combination of a biography of artist Louis Wain and an exploration of how cats became beloved, prized pets among the upper classes of Britain.
There are many interesting historical tidbits- including “cat’s meat men” who traveled city streets selling offal for pets to eat, the beginning of fancy cat shows, and the history of cat taxidermy.
Lately I’ve been reading a lot of very serious nonfiction about current events and politics. I found myself eager to return to this book when I wasn’t reading, as it represented a different world and a sense of escape. (But you can’t get away from reality for long- there's violence and betrayal even in Catland.)
I knew Louis Wain, or thought I knew him, as an artist with schizophrenia who drew increasingly eccentric portraits of cats as his disease progressed. I don’t believe I had ever seen, or at least not often enough to remember, the bulbous, mischevious, naughty illustrations that appeared in magazines, on Christmas cards, and even in wedding engagements. And I had never seen the myth of Wain’s schizophrenic artistic breakdown debunked before reading this book. I really appreciate the author’s integrity- the author didn't mention this myth until the final chapters, even though that's how people like myself are likely to know him and she could have hooked more readers that way.
I wouldn’t have chosen to read Wain’s biography were it not accompanied by the broader historical context, but now I’m glad I got to learn about the life of someone strange and talented. Of course I knew that we tend to romanticize mental illness and reduce mentally ill people to their symptoms, but I hadn’t realized this happened to the famous cat portraitist.
I was not British or erudite enough to fully appreciate this book. That’s not the book’s problem, just a fact. If you are American, not an academic, and/or a bit grubby, you’ll probably learn some fascinating stuff here yet be baffled by other references. I learned some classy abbreviated Latin phrases like “infra dig” and “sub fusc.” Researching sentences like “Austen duly contacted William Harris, Inspector of Nuisances for the Solihull Rural Sanitary Authority (Sparkhill might be macadamised, but it still had its administrative roots in an older agricultural landscape)”, I learned something about macadam roads, but these broader historical trends she refers to are beyond me. I saw, but could not parse despite extensive Googling, what a “pooter” (noun) or “pootling” (verb) is. If an American said this I would think they meant flatulence and in Britain it’s apparently one letter away from a homophobic slur, so I have no idea lol.
If you are a lover of cats, art, or both, I recommend this book. It's probably too narrow in scope and slowly paced for the general reader.
I like, don't love, cats, but I found this book fascinating and informative. It's the biography of Louis Wain, the illustrator who dressed up cats in clothes and was largely responsible for a complete reinvention of cat culture in Britain and the world during the 1800s. You still see his illustrations today. Prior to Wain, cats were pests, often abused. Gradually they became dear pets, a symbol of wealth when well bred, and Cat Clubs and Shows a vast attraction. How did the cat change history and vice versa? This is explored from many angles as we learn about Wain, who was quite mad and ended up destitute. Yet his iconic illustrations brought fame as they became political (women's movement), social, controversial and a reflection of changing technologies.
"If genteel owners remained skeptical about the idea of a cat show, the same could hardly be said of the general public. Twenty thousand visitors flocked to that first Crystal Palace event, with extra trains laid on from central London."
"By the 1890s his (Wain's) cats have cast off some of their old animal forms to become thoroughly modern urban persons. They dress for every occasion, swim in the sea, and take each other to court. If they head out for the country at the weekend they are quite likely to be terrified of the wildlife....These cats have opposable thumbs, mirthless smiles and eyes that widen in theatrical surprise. When defensive they cross their arms and, if they perch on a chair, then they sit on the tails in a pose which is anatomically impossible."
"In Wain's lifetime over a thousand of his postcard designs circulated throughout the English-speaking world and Europe."
"During the First World War half a million felines were deployed in the trenches as cleaning crew....in 1916....a battalion of cats shipped out to France to help control the vermin. (The spring-loaded mousetraps that had come onto the domestic market in the 1890s were a menace in the trenches, where they might ambush unsuspecting and much-needed fingers.) ....Against this medieval landscape of mud and blood, the cat returned to its ancient role of pest-finder general. In addition to this historic labour, cats also performed their new work as companion animals, lucky charms and mascots. Cats travelled inside their favorite soldier's kit bag, perched on his shoulder, or snuggled into the crook of his arm during the bone-chill of a northern European winter."
Before the 1870s, cats were mostly either implements (mousers) or annoyances (feral). A few were pets for little girls and old maids--yes, there were cat ladies in 1870--but house cats weren't common.*
But from 1870 to the early 1900s, interest in cats grew rapidly. The author refers to this period as "Catland." In England, the fad was fueled by several things. One of them was the success of judged cat shows. They required a definition of cat breeds, which mostly didn't exist. Victorians interested in taxonomy pounced. The shows led to selective cat breeding for characteristics. The competitive aspect drew in more cat-men. The English obsession with class and rank was given another outlet.
Another contributor to Catland was an artist named Louis Wain. He did a series of cartoons featuring cats in humanoid form, walking on their hind legs and wearing clothes. The cartoons showed cats engaged in human activities such as kittens being naughty, male cats returning home after a night on the town to face stern-faced females, and so on. Wain expanded into illustrations for ads, books, magazines, strip cartoons, and a new fad, post cards. The jokes were the same as for cartoon humans, but the appealing cat drawings were a novelty. For a while, Louis Wain was a household name.
The book includes an account of Wain's not-very-happy life, but the author's real interest is in Victorian society. She is a witty writer who eagerly chases down funny or weird stories about oddball characters who have only a remote connection to Catland.
*The association of cats with females persists. A lyric from a George Strait song:
Oh, she tells her friends I'm perfect And that I love her cat But you know me better than that
Between the years of 1870 and 1930, there was a grand reinvention of the feline image. As Kathryn Hughes states in her book, the cat "swapped the status of scullery servant for that of much-loved family member", a drastic and bold overhaul of the way that domestic cats were viewed indeed. At the heart of this book lies the story of an artist, Louis Wain. Known for his eccentric behaviour and at times declared as mad, this artist soared to fame during the late 19th and early 20th centuries for his unusual anthropomorphic portraits of cats at the very centre of the modern world.
Hughes takes the reader through the journey of Catland, the burst of culture and history that developed with the help of people like Louis Wain. We learn of the first cat show held in 1871, how the term "cat lady" was developed and stuck even to this day, all the while intermingling with a detailed analysis of Louis Wain's art and life. As the suffragette movement rose and queer culture was ever present, there were connotations between the cat and these troubling times in Victorian history visible within Wain's work. This proved to be incredibly thoughtful reading.
Witty, sharp and timely, Hughes perfectly balanced the tale between Louis Wain and his cats, highlighting that if we all just look a little deeper into our combined cultural history, we would be surprised by how much we can find, even if at first it just seems to be a funny picture of a cat.
This is not the book of the movie "The Electrical Life of Louis Wain" (which I found terribly sad), and it's not purely about Louis Wain, the famous painter of anthropomorphized cats, but Wain's life is the thread that ties together an account of how cats went from being perceived as useful nuisances to beloved companions and monetizable products in the Victorian and Ewardian eras.
"Catland" is the word Hughes uses to describe the universe that Louis Wain created with his wildly popular, wide-eyed cat characters. Wain's commercial work coincided with the rise of cats as both pets and commercial objects in their own right, as reflected in the titles of books like "Cats for Pleasure and Profit," which addressed the early 20th-century fad for cat breeding and showing.
This book is packed with so many stories and anecdotes about cats that it feels as kaleidescopic as some of Wain's own later works. Some of the tales are frankly horrific (the methods used to keep the burgeoning cat population at bay were...not great), some are heartbreaking, and many are astonishing and hilarious. I found myself alternately snickering and shaking my head in disbelief throughout the book. Hughes clearly has a deep knowledge of this era, and her writing is droll and engaging.
If you have even a passing interest in cats, I highly recommend Catland.
Some called it a craze. To others it was a cult. Join prize-winning historian Kathryn Hughes to discover how Britain fell in love with cats and ushered in a new era.
‘He invented a whole cat world’ declared H. G. Wells of Louis Wain, the Edwardian artist whose anthropomorphic kittens made him a household name. His drawings were irresistible but Catland was more than the creation of one eccentric imagination. It was an attitude – a way of being in society while discreetly refusing to follow its rules.
As cat capitalism boomed in the spectacular Edwardian age, prize animals changed hands for hundreds of pounds and a new industry sprung up to cater for their every need. Cats were no longer basement-dwelling pest-controllers, but stylish cultural subversives, more likely to flaunt a magnificent ruff and a pedigree from Persia. Wherever you found old conventions breaking down, there was a cat at the centre of the storm.
Whether they were flying aeroplanes, sipping champagne or arguing about politics, Wain’s feline cast offered a sly take on the restless and risky culture of the post-Victorian world. No-one experienced these uncertainties more acutely than Wain himself, confined to a mental asylum while creating his most iconic work. Catland is a fascinating and fabulous unravelling of our obsession with cats, and the man dedicated to chronicling them.
I looked forward to reading this book and actually rallied to buy a physical copy shortly after it became available. I was not disappointed - it is a fascinating read and this is one you want in hand. The style, a bit of bio with snatches of broader cultural history and tales about the Victorians and their slow acceptance of cats and pets and as it morphs into a bit of a mania. As a result I read it in increments, a chapter or so at a time. For those who, like me, prefer not to focus too much on the side of Victorian cruelty, I will admit there were bits I glossed over - hat with a stuffed cat anyone? For anyone who wants my further thoughts and some additional illustrations I add to the mix, you can find my blog review of it at: http://pams-pictorama.com/2024/11/02/... or search Pams-Pictorama.com for this and a smattering of other reviews and much cat related stuff.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
Interesting look at the rise of the cat as a treasured pet in the late 1800s/early 1900s, told mainly through the lens of the biography of cat artist Louis Wain. Wain’s tale is cinematic in scope (explaining the recent movie starring Benedict Cumberbatch), while the rise of cat fanciers is a typical human story of politics, grifters, and disagreeable people ending up polluting what one would normally consider an innocent hobby. Hughes writes well but there are periodic colloquialisms that could be disorienting- or spice up the prose - depending on your point of view. My only beef with the ebook (on Libby) was that the images weren’t matched up with the text, nor were the color plates even identified in the table of contents. Perhaps it is formatted better on Kindle. Anyway, if you like cats and English history, give Catland a try!
A book that you’d think would appeal to cat-lovers, but it emphatically doesn’t. In Catland , Kathryn Hughes chronicles the cat craze of the early twentieth century through. An odd gentle creature, Wain enjoyed a brief happy marriage to an older woman, then after her death made a livelihood out of drawing anthropomorphic cats in humorous poses to support his more-or-less worthless sisters, only to spent the latter part of his life in asylums.
Chapters about Wain alternate in this book with chapters about cats and their treatment at the hands of man Unfortunately we are cruel creatures, and in these chapters we are confronted with some very hard truths. Definitely not for the squeamish!
Four stars for excellent research and very fine writing, but I have to hold back one star for the descriptions of cruelty that while true are presented very bluntly with no trigger warnings.
Definitely some hiccups here (including typos and sentences that made this former grammar teacher squirm), but a rollicking read that I finished in three days.
This isn’t a conventional biography, but rather one man’s life and career as part of larger world. The switch between social and individual history can sometimes be disorienting, but you adapt to the rhythm as you go. I particularly enjoyed the short sections and coverage of everything from the first cat clubs to Thomas Hardy’s theatrical grief for his dead pets.
This may not be the conventional narrative history a lot of readers are looking for. But if you want a chatty, headlong dive into late Victorian culture, Catland is great.
An odd book about an odd man who did manage through his art to play an outsize role in "normalizing" cats-as-pets ownership at the dawn of the 20th century. Was he schizophrenic? Was he autistic? Was it something else entirely? We'll most likely never know for sure, despite Hughes' in depth research. One thing is for sure: His early work of anthropomorphized cats are known to most of us (though we may not realize it). But it is his later work of both cubist-inspired ceramic cat sculptures and proto-psychedelic cat paintings that make him an outsider artist worthy of frequent rediscovery in the 21st.
This is a popular culture history that uses Wain's life as the spine to explore the changing nature of cats in Victorian England, with digressions into cat breeding, Siamese cats, cat shows, post cards, harelips, cats in wartime, and insane asylums, particularly the idea promoted not too long ago that linked modern art with insanity.
Since this is Victorian history, readers should be prepared for the fact that Victorians hunted animals for sport. This is the early days of pet keeping, and people did not view cats in the way they do today. Also, although the book is published by an American university, the author is British and is writing British, not American, English.
Captivating, informative and disturbing. Hughes writing is so well researched and intimate you feel like you’ve been transported to Victorian England. And just like I believe I would have felt if beamed into 19th century England, I was hella grossed out. A fantastic read, I looked at my cat very suspiciously the whole time. I learned so much about late 19th century culture, especially about women in the middle class. The story of the tentative and late domestication of the cat in western society also was really interesting since the story of the dogs domestications is so much more widely known. Very good!
The cat pictures helped me feel better when I was not feeling well. It is also talking about around when and where I researched historically when I was particularly into "this kind of thing." So I liked this book as a reminiscence of how much I had been allowed to carefully peer through the sheaves of fine paper about this time period when I was younger.
It's true, though, I couldn't even touch about half of the Victorian artefacts because they were that fragile. My cats Cora and Tilly liked this book too. I hope you might, as well! It describes an incredibly peaceful time period in British history.
A history of cat culture and the rise of modernity in Victorian England. Short histories and biographies about the kitschy cat artist Louis Wain throughout his troubled life, and about a wide variety of people and events and trends connected with cats.
You certainly don’t need to be a cat person to enjoy the book; I loved its cross-sectional look at Victorian England, poking at the lives of regular people, via the cat. A vivid illustration of a time and its changing perspectives, extremely readable and funny.
My introduction to CATLAND. I have seen Louis Wain's pictures of cats all my life but never really knew who Louis Wain was. It's interesting to read his history. Also, I enjoyed reading the beginnings of cat shows in Britain and how cats were treated, good and bad. I've been a cat lover all my life and learned some things about cats. Never knew the beginnings of the Siamese breed.
This book was a little hard to read as it is by a British author and she uses some words and phrases that are purely British. But I figured it out.
I couldn’t finish this book. The organization is all over the place, so it reads more like someone dumping information rather than a coherent narrative. Additionally, every few pages for the first several chapters there are lengthy descriptions of animal torture. I know animal abuse is a more recent societal focus, times were different, etc, but the point could have been made just as clearly by stating as much. I’m not at all squeamish or delicate, but the sinister torture jump scares every few pages managed to kill my curiosity as surely as pre-Victorian men loved snuffing out cats.
This was an interesting book exploring the history of how cats came to be regarded so highly within the UK, it uses the life of Louis Wains as a structure to explore the various aspects of cats, from the cat massacre in France, to cat competitions, and famous cat lovers.
All in all this was a fun read, but I wish it delved a little further into the intricacies of Louis Wain's life, as some things felt more like surface level facts, rather than deeper explorations of a topic.