Cecil Dreemeis one of the queerest American novels of the 19th century. This edition, which includes a new introduction contextualizing the sexual history of the period and queer longings of the book, brings a rare, almost forgotten, sensational gothic novel set in New York s West Village back to light. Published posthumously in 1861, the novel centers on Robert Byng, a young man who moves back to New York after traveling abroad and finds himself unmarried and underemployed, adrift in the heathenish dens of lower Manhattan. When he takes up rooms in Chrysalis College a thinly veiled version of the 19th-century New York University building in Washington Square he quickly finds himself infatuated with a young painter lodging there, named Cecil Dreeme. As their friendship grows and the novel unfolds against the backdrop of the bohemian West Village, Robert confesses that he loves Cecil with a love passing the love of women. Yet, there are dark forces at work in the form of the sinister and magnetic Densdeth, a charismatic figure of bad intention, who seeks to ensnare Robert for his own. Full of romantic entanglements, mistaken identity, blackmail, and the dramas of temptation and submission, Cecil Dreeme is a gothic novel at its finest. Poetically written with flashes of Walt Whitman, Charles Dickens, and Oscar Wilde Cecil Dreeme is an early example of that rare bird, a queer novel from the 19th century. "
this is a great book if you’re like me and bad at picking up obvious clues as to the resolution of the mystery. also despite this book being silly it has some mildly profound takes on queerness and the malignancy of greed (kinda)
Two versions of this 1861 gothic novel were reprinted this year, one by NYU Press with an introduction by Peter Coviello, and one by University of Pennsylvania Press edited and with an introduction by Christopher Looby. My review of both new editions is here: http://common-place.org/book/the-quee....
A very 'queer' book indeed! Although there is nothing sexually explicit in the book (first published posthumously in 1861 - its author being one of the first casualties of the Civil War), there is much of sub textual interest in it. It has been aptly described as a cross between Wilde and Dickens, although I'd add there's more than a smidgen of Anne Radcliffe in there too. Oddly, the book has recently been reprinted in two handsome scholarly editions; the one I read has extensive notes and an erudite introduction by Christopher Looby (which should actually be an AFTERWORD, as it not only gives away plot points, but can only really be appreciated after one has finished the novel).
The basic storyline involves a young man (Robert Byng) who comes back to America after studies abroad and meets a young mysterious aesthete artist (the eponymous Cecil Dreeme) in his boarding house with whom he forms an immediate simpatico attachment, while simultaneously being both attracted and repelled by the charismatic demonic figure of the roguish rake Densdeth. Although some of what transpires can be foreseen before the thrilling denouement, and there are some longueurs in the writing, this is still quite a fascinating forgotten 'classic' that deserves a wider audience and much discussion.
a weird one for sure. some interesting stuff about sexuality and gender, some really weird stuff about race and class, and i understand why it didn't stick around in a meaningful way after its publication....ultimately it's pretty conventional in terms of the gothic and really only the reveal at the end surprised me. still glad i read it i guess.
Reading this book has felt like a fever dream to me in that the entire time I couldn't believe that what I was reading was, in fact, the book published in 1861 it claimed to be. It felt more like everything I've ever wanted in a 19th century gay novel - dandies galore, a mysterious and ethereal effete (Cecil Dreeme) that the protag (Robert Byng) is smitten with, a sad little attempt at some kind of love triangle that does nothing but emphasize how incredibly homosexual Mr. Byng is. Alone this is already a Book of Dreams for my romanticized version of Victoriana. But then as a queer trans man to find that the plot twist is I can't believe that I just Happened upon this book at a vendor at the Philly Trans Health Conference a year or so ago and bought it on a whim, completely unaware of its plot or anything. I can't believe this book isn't talked about practically anywhere, and that there hasn't been any kind of adaptation made of it. I can't believe this book is supposedly "semi-autobiographical" - WHICH PART, MR. WINTHROP ?? My faint sensibilities are overcome due to this book and I demand that it gets the attention and discussion that it deserves.
Really fascinating, almost ahead-of-its time Gothic (but not Gothic) novel that is not nearly as well-known and widely read as it should be. The queer themes are unusually subtle and almost subversive given when this novel was originally published, and the imagery is incredibly captivating. Overall, if you're into queer fiction or just want to read a great deep cut of American fiction, I highly recommend reading this novel--it will fill a hole you didn't know you had.
Poe-esque yet predictable in its twists. Also I can’t help but laugh at Bygne’s insistence in calling Carla “Cecil” when they are unmasked. The closet was glass!
I really enjoyed this very weird nineteenth-century mystery. A fascinating blend of Melville and Dickens while anticipating Oscar wild. Not sure yet what I think about the editor’s classification if it as a queer novel.
Novel gets 5/5 stars but this edition gets 3.4 or 4 because notes glossing terms and allusions aren’t given endnotes. Instead, readers have to guess whether an uncommon word or phrase is glossed and then go search for it. Some known words are glossed while other, lesser known terms, are not. But you don’t know that until you take the time to go to p. 220, for example, and search for it. Infuriating!
What an odd little gem this is. A republished novel from 1861, it tells of Robert Byng and his reentry into American life, specifically lower Manhattan. He sublets a room in the early buildings of a fictional version of NYU, where he meets a near-death painter, Cecil Dreeme.
After Byng and his colleagues nurse the artist back to health, they socialize and gather to ruminate frequently about their mutual nemesis, Densdeth. Although accused of being responsible for the death of his young bride, and having swindled her father in business investments, Densdeth's "evil" nature is more often discussed than shown.
Byng's fascination and infatuation for Dreeme is what the new publishers have cited as making it an early "queer" novel. Although there is no outward homosexuality displayed in his affections, Byng does get confused by his attraction to the willowy painter.
There are many colloquialisms and catch phrases of the day that aren't clear, more than in other novels of the era that I've read. And the eventual resolution is a bit neatly tied up at the end. Despite its flaws, the book serves as an interesting artifact of an historic time.