This should perhaps be subtitled The Wonderful, Tragic Life of Tussy Marx. Eleanor (Tussy), the youngest daughter Karl and Jenny, has shamefully been too long written out of orthodox Marxist parties’ patriarchal story of the growth of their outlook and basis of struggle. There is little doubt that she was smart, brilliant, energetic and the activist that few others in her family were or considered taking up. Her 43 years covered some of the most important events and moments in British history – the growth of the mass organised labour movement, the challenge to the dominance of élite craft workers in British trade unionism, the mass action of dockers, of gas workers, of railway workers and others; much of this action she played a significant and often leading role in. She translated her father’s work and that of Engels, did large sections of the research that underpinned Capital and acted as one of Britain’s leading advocates for Marxism.
But she was also an aspiring actor, and early translator (and big fan) of Ibsen and provided what was for many years the standard English translation of Madam Bovary, active in feminist politics and close to some of the leading feminists of the late 19th century and an early influence on a 13 year old Sylvia Pankhurst; she was, like many intellectuals of her era, a polymath. She is also the author of the first biographical work about Marx on which nearly all subsequent biographers have, in part, drawn and relied. The tragedy of Tussy’s life is that in so much of her adult personal life she seems as if she is a mixture of both Nora Helmer (of The Doll’s House) and Emma Bovary.
Yet in most of these things she appears as a footnote to the men she worked with: Marx & Engels, Will Thorne of the Gas Workers’ Union, Wilhelm Liebknecht (of the German SDP), Paul Lafarge (of the French Workers Party and her brother in law) and most shamefully for Marxist parties of various persuasions Edward Aveling, her husband in all but ceremony. Aveling quite properly appears as the villain of the piece – in this at least orthodox Marxism-Leninism has it right – as exploiting her, claiming her status as his and as in nearly every way responsible for her demise. But not far behind him is the powerplay of the German SDP (Bebel, Adler & Singer) who installed the former Louise Kautsky in Engels’ house in a substantially successful effort to secure control over the Marx-Engels archive. It suggests the degree of conflict and complicity in orthodox Marxism-Leninism in the footnoting of Tussy that one of the two versions of Volume One of Capital (the official Soviet English language edition) on my bookcase is shown as translated by Edward Aveling and Samuel Moore, when all the evidence (not only from this book) tells us that the correct distribution of labour would list the translators as Eleanor Marx, Edward Aveling and Samuel Moore.
Holme’s great success in this biography is manifold, and turns on four principal axes. First, she has restored Eleanor to the centre of her own story (this is the third full length biography in English, and first since the early 1970s) and in doing so granted her the agency dominant narratives deny. Second, in placing a feminist woman at the centre of a history of late 19th century British and international socialism disrupted both the dominance of orthodox Marxism’s labourist/patriarchal narrative and that of mainstream labour history that fetishizes the industrial working man over the much more nuanced and rich labour history of production and reproduction that sees working women (and to a lesser extent children) in industrial workforce not as victims to be protected but as workers in struggle. Third, in highlighting the Marx family’s rich cultural life and drawing out a child’s vision of that family she has restored culture, joy and freedom (part of what the French Marxist Henri Lefebvre calls disalienation) to a socialist vision and practice. Finally, in taking us into the rich life of Eleanor the writer, translator, pragmatist in a world of realpolitik and propagandist Holmes has rebalanced late 19th century British socialism as not just a war of egos between various forms of nativistic, often nationalistic socialism, in contest with itself and anarchism as much as it was with capital and the labour aristocracy (as the élite craft workers were often labelled).
This is not, however, a hagiography. Eleanor is certainly a dynamic and engaging woman but she is also obsessive, short sighted in some of her key personal relations, suffers from a close-to-sanctification of her father and suffers many of the traumas, distresses and unhappiness of Victorian women. She appears, in her late teens and early twenties, to be anorexic; her empathy means she seldom cares for herself; she makes a series foolish choices in lovers (Aveling being by far the worst – an insecure, egotistic liar – who she repeatedly choses over friends and family) and remains blinded by what seems to be a desperate search for the return to halcyon, romanticised days of her childhood relationship with her idolised father. But she was also intensely loyal to the extended family, including those associated with Engels, as well as to her friends even when they stayed away out of their dislike for Aveling.
Holmes has a light hand in complex issues, not only of the domestic relations of extended Marx-Engels family but also the political and economic analyses emerging from that family, the political contests with British and European socialism and the broader political left. As with any really good biography, we learn as much about the context of the life and its subject; in this case we have an impressive history of late 19th century British socialism (that I hope many of the subject area’s scholars and activists read having shaken off their dogmatism), a sharp exposition on Marxist and related socialist theory and practice and a rethinking of the ways feminist politics developed well beyond the suffrage movement.
This excellent piece adds greatly to our histories of European socialism and Marxism. It sits alongside essential English language biographies of women such as Alexandra Kollontai and Rosa Luxemburg as vital to understand the rich interplay between feminist politics and socialism: now, if only we could have similar quality work done about Clara Zetkin and Sylvia Pankhurst we’d have most of the leading women socialists of the pre-WW1 era (or in Pankhurt's case the 1920s as well). It is also a really good read, well-paced and just enough quirky snippets (such as the Marx family connection to the Phillips radio and light bulb empire) to keep us entertained as well as informed and engaged.
It comes with the highest recommendation.