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Born in 1841, Juliana Horatia Gatty was the daughter of the Rev. Alfred Gatty, a Church of England vicar, and an author, and of Margaret Gatty, also an author. She was married to Major Alexander Ewing, of the British army pay department, in 1867, relocating with him to New Brunswick, Canada, for the first two years of their marriage. Although Major Ewing was posted abroad again, in 1879 and 1881, Mrs. Ewing was prevented from accompanying him by ill health. She moved to Bath in 1885, in the hopes that the change would improve her health, but she died there that same year.
Juliana Horatia Ewing - sometimes also styled Juliana Horatia Gatty Ewing, or just "Mrs. Ewing" - is credited by Roger Lancelyn Green as being the author of the the "first outstanding child-novels" in English literature. In addition to her children's novels, Ewing also edited a number of magazines for young readers, including the Nursery Magazines (from 1856), the Monthly Packet and the monthly Aunt Judy's Magazine (both from 1866).
Read as part of the Book Riot Read Harder 2018 Challenge (Category: "A children's classic published before 1980")
She's no relation, but I've always had a curiosity about the work of my mid-Victorian namesake Mrs Ewing, author of dozens of books and short stories for children before her early death. In her time a bestseller, hardly anyone reads her now, but there's a chain of admiration linking her to the present day - there's something of Mrs.Ewing's unpatronising interest in childhood concerns in the work of E. Nesbit, for instance (who is not much read herself but whose flame is kept alive by Pullman and others).
Even so I was a bit scared to approach Six To Sixteen - I had the idea Mrs Ewing's books might be rather dry and improving, since she was keen for them to lead her child-readers along virtuous paths. But I was wrong. If there's a central message of Six To Sixteen, is one that's orthodox today but I suspect was a good deal less widely agreed in the 1860s - the need for girls to have an education and lifestyle that strongly emphasises curiosity and "intellectual pursuits" (everything from art to biology to languages) over the traditional domestic and social spheres of the Victorian feminine.
Most of the novel - an autobiography started on a whim by Margery, the lead character, as exactly one of these pursuits - is a progress through a series of social milieux until our heroine winds up in one where she can effectively live this life. After an early childhood spent in India, Margery passes through life in a regimental town (too gossipy), an ancient family home (too traditional), and a private girls school (too limiting) before finally finding happiness in a vicarage on the Yorkshire moors where she can read, write, paint, learn, debate and play with the family dogs to her heart's content.
This isn't to say Mrs Ewing isn't a moralist, or religious - but she's not didactic. Religious morality is the air the characters breathe, but they explicitly remark on it about as rarely as they talk about that air. The improving character of the novel mostly shows itself through omission - there are no villains and very little bad behaviour, and when a character does display unfortunate traits (a flighty governess, for instance) the book is very careful not to go into too much detail. Mrs Ewing's instructive method here is imitative - and it wouldn't do to give people the wrong things to imitate.
The result is an episodic book with a very loose, barely discernible plot, whose characters are at worst well-meaning. Where there is tension, it comes out of differences in philosophy, not from open conflict. It makes for a surprisingly subtle story, whose narrator is often quietly ironic, like a Jane Austen heroine for kids. (Though there's no overt romance in Six To Sixteen, even if there's plenty for Victorian shippers to work with.) Within thirty or so pages I'd adjusted to the Victorian style and within that style the book bubbled along very merrily even though not much ever seemed to happen.
If parts of the novel feel disarmingly modern, other parts portray a very different world. Aside from religion, the other constant presence in Six To Sixteen is death. The narrator is an orphan; so are many other kids; and those that aren't have often lost brothers and sisters, since every illness carries some risk of fatality and many - cholera, scarlet fever, smallpox - are scourges. It wouldn't be true to say that Margery takes death in her stride, but the fact of it is taken for granted in a way that would be impossible even in 20th century children's literature. With mortality all around, the book's central question - of how to live your best life - becomes still more urgent.
Who knew I could be entertained by a book published over 130 years ago? Its thoughts and passages are as relevant today as they were in 1892. Found this book a decade ago in some of my grandparents things. I suspect it was a book of my great great grandmothers. How quaint that the voice of the main characters closest living bloodline is her great great grandparents. Such a joy. Thank you universe for putting this book in my way this December.
One of the nicest things about eBooks is all of the obscure gems that have become readily accessible for the Kindle and other formats, often for free since they are in the public domain. This story of a young girl's growing up, orphaned in India and returned to Britain, where she is not only wanted, but loved, by the several families who take her in, shows a girl who is sensible and smart, who pokes fun at the more shallow characters around her and values substance. She and her adoptive older sister turn to everything with enthusiasm and grace, and learning dressmaking is neither more nor less valued than learning Italian so they can read Dante, or collecting natural history specimens. The sourest note is the reminder of British Colonialism near the beginning; the heroine speaks of her childhood in India with a beloved Ayah, but otherwise there is almost no sense that India isn't simply filled with the English. Otherwise, though, this is a delight.
This is the second time I have read this - and probably the last. It was as mediocre the second time round as the first. It's perfectly readable, but not outstanding. Maybe it's all a bit too tame. Not much happens. For the most part there is no darkness to contrast with the light. It starts well and it ends well, but in between there is not much of a plot, just lots of nice people with no depths or shades of character.
Ironically it was the nondescript middle portion which felt like Ewing was ahead of her time - in that she seemed to be writing that type of children's fiction so typical of the 1950s, where children are living innocent and healthy and idyllic lives in the country, active, hardworking, applying themselves hard to whatever they do, throwing themselves into productive lives of studies and meaningful hobbies, with parents who allow them free rein to do whatever they like. The characters all felt a bit too perfect and innocent, with no darker characters to contrast them with.
I hadn't really remembered the main body of the book very well. The only impression that I really took away from the initial reading of this book was that Frances Hodgson Burnett had plagiarised The Secret Garden from it. Burnett's novel didn't actually follow this story as closely as I had (mis)remembered, but was still obviously inspired and based upon it (the young girl brought up in Colonial India, cared for by her Ayah, rather neglected by her parents, especially her mother, being orphaned in a cholera outbreak, returned to England to live with cousins, moving to the healthful atmosphere of Yorkshire, and developing a love of flowers. I wonder whether Burnett's imagination suddenly ran away with her when she reached the overgrown ivy-covered wall in the Arkwright's garden and she wondered to herself what was behind it, and began constructing her own version of the story to answer her curiosity. Perhaps she too enjoyed the start of the story but felt it lost its way somewhat, and wanted to try to improve upon Ewing's foundation.
Wrote on Six to Sixteen for my dissertation project. Whilst the storyline is quite unremarkable for modern readers, Ewing's text is really remarkable when studying it in relation to the conceptions and freedoms of girls in the fin-de-siecle/late Victorian period. I particularly am looking at the intersection of imperialism in the text. Highly regarded by Rudyard Kipling, with a mention in his autobiography, Six to Sixteen makes an interesting study for children's literature of the period.
I've only read a part, but the beginning MUST have been the inspiration for The Secret Garden. It is almost identical. The language is more stuffy than the Secret Garden, but it was interesting to see all of the parallels.