Most of us know Edward Lear as the writer of nonsense verse. “The Owl and the Pussycat” is the first poem I ever learned by heart and even though I learned a few more in years closer to now than then I still remember more of it than I do of any of the others. But in his lifetime Lear was known for other things first. As a teenager and young man he became England’s Audubon, doing brilliant paintings of birds and other wildlife for zoos and wealthy patrons with private zoos and from stuffed exotic animals. He published several successful books of these illustrations. He became a landscape artist and world traveler (Italy, Greece, Corfu, Albania, Turkey, Egypt, Palestine, India, Ceylon), publishing travel books illustrated with prints from his sketches, watercolors, and oil paintings.
Since his travels were underwritten by subscriptions from landowning friends of the upper classes, he was a frequent guest at their estates and as a talented musician (piano and guitar) he was quick to entertain both adults and children with popular songs, spoofs of popular songs, and original songs. He was also was given to puns and word play and would entertain the children of the house with illustrated alphabets and limericks (a form that existed but hadn’t yet been named) that were decorated with fanciful cartoons. The sidelight made it into print and eventually they became popular but in his long lifetime he was Mr. Lear, the landscape painter.
His origins were not such that you would imagine him as a ten year old boy as someone who would travel much of the world, tutor Queen Victoria in drawing and painting, and be friend of the landed and political elite and the age’s cultural elite (Tennyson, Wilkie Collins, Audubon, Ruskin, among many others). He came from the large, large family of a businessman who was fortunate in his early days, before Edward, one of the youngest of the family was born, and very unfortunate thereafter, going bankrupt, spending time in debtor’s prison, and working hand to mouth thereafter.
Young Lear was raised by his much older sisters, already young women when he was a toddler, and had a non-existent relationship with his mother. But he had a loving one with his sisters who taught him to draw and write and shared his skill and love of games of wit and rhyme. He had little formal schooling and the little he had scarred him in ways he would allude to but never discuss. He also had possible instances of abuse from (likely) two male family members, a cousin and perhaps a brother (C.). He suffered severely from epileptic fits, which at a young age he learned to “manage” by going into hiding for the duration as soon as he sensed one coming on. As a boy he began earning a living as an artist, making signs with illustrations for local shopkeepers. He was diligent, a patient and insistent observer, and a lifelong walker. Through hustle he got access to the London zoo, began drawing the animals there, particularly the parrots, and parlayed that into his first career success, one that led to connections to England’s upper class that through word of mouth and weekend stays led to more connections.
Two other things led to further connections with young men of family—his travel and his homosexuality. While going on sketching walks he met folks or had them accompany him and met other folks. His sketching tours of England, Scotland, Italy and Germany expanded his circle of potential patrons and friends. On one he had an idyllic time with Frank Lushington, a young man from a staid and influential family who seemed quite as whimsical, romantic, and dreamy as the slightly older Lear. They remained friends for life and Frank was the frustrated love of Lear’s life. Later times with Frank were more complicated. In England he found Frank just as staid and formal as his family. Still Lear pined and hoped up until Frank married and had children. Then he was the great family friend and godfather to several of his children.
He also had a thirty year relationship with his travel servant that Uglow doesn’t explicitly say was partially romantic but might well have been. The servant, Giorgio, is buried in the same cemetery, with identical headstones, to Lear, side-by-side. There were also several women he considered marrying, including a woman named Gussie to whom he nearly proposed multiple times and after each shying away was melancholy with regret.
The great female love of his life was likely his friend Alfred Tennyson’s wife. He preferred her to her husband (and her husband’s poetry to the man, who was moody and self-important) but was life-long friends with both. From all this—impoverished start, inadequate training in art, gender uncertainty, chronic illness and restless journeying—he managed an impressive life very much on his terms, living abroad or traveling in fall and winter, returning to England in summer to visit family and friends and supervise book publications and sale of his art, never working in an office or business but on projects of interest to himself. Still, there was the melancholy and the failure to strike up a permanent, open, intimate relationship.
Uglow has done a superb job of telling his life, amply illustrated with drawings, watercolors, paintings, photographs, and cartoons and generous samples of the nonsense verse that goes with the cartoons. It was a pleasure to read, informative, and a reliable resource for the man, his work, and his times.