The Landlord at Lion's Head

by William Dean Howells

1897. Howells was an American realist author. He wrote for various magazines including Atlantic Monthly and Harper's Magazine. His career blossomed after the publication of his first realist novel, A Modern Instance. The book begins: If you looked at the mountain from the west, the line of the summit was wandering and uncertain, like that of most mountaintops; but seen from the east, the mass of granite showing above the dense forests of the lower slopes had the form of a sleeping lion. The flanks and haunches were vaguely distinguished from the mass; but the mighty head, resting with its tossed mane upon the vast paws stretched before it, was boldly sculptured against the sky. The likeness could not have been more perfect, when you had it in profile, if it had been a definite intention of art; and you could travel far north and far south before the illusion vanished. See other titles by this author available from Kessinger Publishing.

Genres: Fiction, Literature, Classics

461 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1897

About the author

Willam Dean Howells (1837-1920) was a novelist, short story writer, magazine editor, and mentor who wrote for various magazines, including the Atlantic Monthly and Harper's Magazine.

In January 1866 James Fields offered him the assistant editor role at the Atlantic Monthly. Howells accepted after successfully negotiating for a higher salary, but was frustrated by Fields's close supervision. Howells was made editor in 1871, remaining in the position until 1881.

In 1869 he first met Mark Twain, which began a longtime friendship. Even more important for the development of his literary style — his advocacy of Realism — was his relationship with the journalist Jonathan Baxter Harrison, who during the 1870s wrote a series of articles for the Atlantic Monthly on the lives of ordinary Americans.

He wrote his first novel, Their Wedding Journey, in 1872, but his literary reputation took off with the realist novel A Modern Instance, published in 1882, which described the decay of a marriage. His 1885 novel The Rise of Silas Lapham is perhaps his best known, describing the rise and fall of an American entrepreneur of the paint business. His social views were also strongly represented in the novels Annie Kilburn (1888), A Hazard of New Fortunes (1890), and An Imperative Duty (1892). He was particularly outraged by the trials resulting from the Haymarket Riot.

His poems were collected during 1873 and 1886, and a volume under the title Stops of Various Quills was published during 1895. He was the initiator of the school of American realists who derived, through the Russians, from Balzac and had little sympathy with any other type of fiction, although he frequently encouraged new writers in whom he discovered new ideas.

Howells also wrote plays, criticism, and essays about contemporary literary figures such as Henrik Ibsen, Émile Zola, Giovanni Verga, Benito Pérez Galdós, and, especially, Leo Tolstoy, which helped establish their reputations in the United States. He also wrote critically in support of American writers Hamlin Garland, Stephen Crane, Emily Dickinson, Mary E. Wilkins Freeman, Paul Laurence Dunbar, Sarah Orne Jewett, Charles W. Chesnutt, Abraham Cahan, Madison Cawein,and Frank Norris. It is perhaps in this role that he had his greatest influence. In his "Editor's Study" column at the Atlantic Monthly and, later, at Harper's, he formulated and disseminated his theories of "realism" in literature.

In 1904 he was one of the first seven people chosen for membership in the American Academy of Arts and Letters, of which he became president.

Howells died in Manhattan on May 11, 1920. He was buried in Cambridge Cemetery in Massachusetts.

Noting the "documentary" and truthful value of Howells' work, Henry James wrote: "Stroke by stroke and book by book your work was to become, for this exquisite notation of our whole democratic light and shade and give and take, in the highest degree documentary."

Reviews

[Tentatively, Convenience · Rating 4 out of 5]

review of
W.D. Howells' The Landlord at Lion's Head
by tENTATIVELY, a cONVENIENCE - December 11, 2012

I got this at a bkstore that's closing up shop. This is at least the 7th bkstore to do so in PGH in the 17 yrs I've lived here. Only 1 bkstore that I can think of has replaced them. Not a good sign. On the spine of this 1897 hardback the author's name is written as "HOWELLS". When I bought it (for a dollar) I thought it read "HGWELLS". This bk is almost physically identical in size & color to 2 H.G. Wells bks I already have (The Research Magnificent & Mr. Britling Sees It Through) - even down to the gold ink of the lettering. Hence the ease of my mistake. & I got another Howells bk under the same conditions.

So here I am w/ 2 bks by an author I don't recall ever having heard of. As it turns out, he's an American who lived, according to Wikipedia, from March 1, 1837 to May 11, 1920. Then again, this novel is listed there as from 1908 & my edition is from 1897, copyrighted 1896 - so much for Wikipedia's accuracy. Wikipedia also lists at least 50 bks by him including a collaboration w/ his friend Mark Twain. I reckon most Americans have heard of Mark Twain but how many have heard of William Dean Howells?! Only the title of what's reputed to've been his most famous novel, The Rise of Silas Lapham, seems even vaguely familiar.

SO, what we have here is a prolific American author, supposedly nicknamed "The Dean of American Letters" (presumably a pun off his middle name), now largely forgotten a mere 92 yrs after his death. Looking on one online bkstore that brags of over "8,000,000" bks I find ONE by Howells. I find a few more on Amazon, 1st editions from the 19th century, reasonably priced. What's going on here?

Howells is, by reputation, a 'realist'. I usually prefer works of the imagination to works based more on observation of human nature but I like both. If I were to choose between Lautrémont's Les Chants de Maldoror (1868) & this bk, it wd be no contest. Lautrémont was a visionary genius. But Howells is far from deserving this apparent post-mortem neglect. It seems to me that, once again, canonization is rearing its ugly head. How many highly literate Americans even know much about 19th century American authors? A friend of mine (who's taught 19th c American lit) & I listed how many such authors we cd think of off the tops of our heads. We came up w/ something like 16. That's less than 1 for every 6 yrs of the century! Surely there were many more remarkable writers of the time!

When reading a 'realist' work I reckon the test, for me, is: how convinced am I of the 'realism'? What seems realistic in a novel about a hotel to a person who doesn't run one might be very different indeed to someone who actually run one. What was interesting for me about this novel was that, even tho it's framed by a very different time of societal proprieties, it still rang 'true' in terms of subtleties of human nature & issues of human conduct.

I wdn't credit this bk w/ having any formal innovations. It's a classic 19th century novel of a nature that, it seems to me, was already decades old. No matter, that doesn't completely devalue it for me despite my thirst for innovation. Having the main locale be a country summer hotel provides a solid pretext for a rotating cast of traveling characters & Howells uses this to advantage w/o just milking it as a gimmick.

While there's plenty of subtle drama here, it doesn't depend on tragedy - unlike so much these days, no-one has to be murdered in order for the plot to be engrossing. Reading it, & enjoying it, & caring about the characters, made me feel like I am, indeed, 'old-fashioned' - despite my having been about as immersed in the 'avant-garde' my whole life as just about anyone who ever has been.

Howells doesn't oversimplify, always a relief to me. The ultimate character of the title is somewhat annoying, somewhat sympathetic, & not overly depicted in stereotyping ways. He's an individual - at the same time that he's presented as a person involved in ordinary day-to-day class struggle - ie: he's not political but he's caught up in class struggle in a personal way.

A crucial scene is one where Jeff, the landlord of the title, has brought food out to clients of the hotel on a picnic. One of the 'ladies' treats him like a servant & tries to put a good face on trying to get him out of the way so he doesn't 'contaminate' (my word choice) their little party. Jeff is aware of how he's being treated. His mother, the actual landlady of the hotel at the time, learns of this & evicts the offending woman from the hotel. In a sense, this conflict then fuels much of what happens later as Jeff grows into a young man at Harvard & manipulates people who look down on him from their privileged positions.

The novel's rich enuf in details: the people who populate the hotel, Boston, alluded-to trips to Europe & Egypt, Theosophists (only mentioned as "them Blavetsky fellers" (p 190) but still present) & the use of the planchette for 'spirit communication'. I'll be reading more by Howells (maybe) but not anytime soon. If I can help revive interest in him, I'm happy to do so. At the very least, reading this made me want to visit the country in New England where Lion's Head mountain is.

[Kristin Boluch · Rating 5 out of 5]

This book is amazing, concerning an artist who frequents an inn at New Hampshire and views its progress as concordant with the changes in the nation. The inn becomes profitable and as its young son grows up and becomes landlord, his social climbing corresponds with the rise of new money and the change in values - capitalism versus republican. Reminds me of the themes of Adams' Virgin and the Dynamo. In the meantime, the artist is attempting to realistically capture the "reality" of the mountain in his oil paintings which he attempts year after year, and can only achieve realism. Interesting contemplation of ideas about the Realism Howells of which was a chief proponent.

[Patrick · Rating 5 out of 5]

The Landlord at Lion’s Head is one of the least-known novels ever published in the Signet Classics series, not even among the most recognizable William Dean Howells titles (The Rise of Silas Lapham, A Hazard of New Fortunes, A Modern Instance). It is a powerful study of a young “alpha male” type, Jeff Durgin – amoral, practical, shrewd, but not born into name or money, and not possessed of any striking intellectual gifts that would enable him to become a successful lawyer, doctor, or such. He is therefore powerfully handicapped in the 19th Century world, despite being handsome and self-possessed. But this doesn’t anger him; he is always confident that he will “find a way”. I was reminded of Trollope’s similarly situated Phineas Finn, and both men angle forward by playing off their sexual magnetism, not giving a second thought if this involves “making love” to several women in the same time-frame.

Howells contrasts Durgin with a fastidious older artist, Westover (often taken to be a Howells self-portrait). I can’t say as I’d be friends with either man – Durgin is too shallow and brutish, Westover a passive priss. But their relationship fuels the novel effectively. The settings in rural New Hampshire (where the Durgin family inn is located, hence the book’s title) and urban Boston (especially Harvard, which Jeff uneasily attends) are also tellingly contrasted. A sharp and compelling novel overall. I am a big Howells fan.

[Humphrey · Rating 4 out of 5]

(My ranking of Howells' best novels: https://azleslie.com/posts/howells-ra...)
The Landlord at Lion's Head is a surprisingly strong novel. It's something of a return to two previous Howells efforts of the 1880s: April Hopes, in its depiction of gradual character shifts without actual change, and The Minister's Charge, in its depiction of the social experience of quotidian class tensions. Set against the backdrop of the transforming rural economy of the late nineteenth century, the novel follows the transition of a family farm into an inn for summer urban resort-goers and family scion's move into the city to attend Harvard. In both cases tensions flare up between country and city, uncouth new money and cultured society. The central character, Jeff, isn't a good person but he's not bad enough to be an "antihero" either: he is personable yet eminently, and at times brutally, pragmatic. Here Howells makes a unique inversion of his classic real/romance distinction. In contrast to Jeff's express realism, the character who might have been a moral center for a more naive novel, the urbane Westover, is repeatedly deemed an idealist. This interplay of moral perspectives, each flawed, animates the novel. Do people change? Does sowing evil really bring evil fruit? Are people what they or their circumstances make them? Perhaps the most striking moment in the novel is when Jeff forces Bessie - a wealthy Boston girl who has been toying? falling in love? with Jeff - to kiss him: the novel focalizes both characters' thoughts in a powerful portrayal, certainly for 1897, of a sexual assaulter's justification and a victim's reaction.

[Ram · Rating 2 out of 5]

Its a story of a transformation of an impoverished New England farm into a successful summer hotel and of the characters played out in its success.