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TIME: Almanac 1990
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1990 Time Magazine Compact Almanac, The (1991)(Time).iso
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091189
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09118900.071
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1990-09-17
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BOOKS, Page 82The Cruelty Of Genius
By R.Z. Sheppard
LORD BYRON'S DOCTOR
by Paul West
Doubleday; 277 pages; $19.95
Doubleday assures editors and reviewers that Lord Byron's
Doctor is Paul West's "most accessible novel to date." What does
this suggest about the writer's previous work? That it is less
accessible, or even impenetrable? With a publisher like that, who
needs critics? Far better to have readers willing to discover for
themselves that, if anything, West, 59, is one of the most vigorous
and inviting literary talents still punching away in semiobscurity.
West wants to bowl over his audience and usually does, in virtuoso
performances like Alley Jaggers, Bela Lugosi's White Christmas and
The Very Rich Hours of Count von Stauffenberg, the last a
fictionalization of the failed 1944 plot by German officers to
assassinate Hitler.
The author's twelfth novel is an equally successful imagining
of a historical event, the 1816 European tour of Romanticism's
Rolling Stones, George Gordon (Lord Byron) and Percy Bysshe
Shelley. Their entourage had its own claim to notoriety. Shelley's
wife Mary was the daughter of the radical philosopher William
Godwin and Mary Wollstonecraft, author of the basic feminist text
Vindication of the Rights of Woman. Mary, 18, would soon write
Frankenstein. Her step-sister and an intimate of both Byron's and
Shelley's, Claire Clairmont, was also part of the group, which
swapped stories and much more at a rented villa overlooking
Switzerland's Lake Leman.
Lesser known but indispensable to West's enterprise was John
William Polidori, a young physician traveling as the club-footed
Byron's secretary and medical adviser. He also had a (pounds)500
commission from a London publisher to report on the poet's
adventures. Impatient for death's sting, Polidori was 25 when he
drank a fatal concoction of opium, arsenic and prussic acid in
1821. His journal was eventually published, but not before his
sister removed the naughty parts.
West puts them back, or rather reconceives and embellishes them
in his fecund imagination. One of his accomplishments is Polidori's
"lyrical forensic way" of describing the crippled Byron: "Lord B.'s
habitual gait was more of a rapid, sliding slither than anything,
and I had noticed how quickly he entered a room, almost at the run,
as if simulating precipitate eagerness . . . Out of doors he had
none of the indolent lounge, both languid and effete, of the
fashionable flaneur, but rather a lubricated-looking traipse,
exactly what you would expect of someone trying to walk on just the
toes and balls of his feet."
Through Polidori, West compiles a lurid case history on the
cruelty of genius. Shelley may have been "polite to God and pious
towards women," but Byron was arrogant about both. His disdain
toward lesser literary figures was godlike, and his venery demonic.
"The sexes were all one to him," notes Polidori, "the main thing
being to spend and thus clear the mind for matters more important:
the next canto, the new play."
Romanticism and egoism normally go hand in hand. Here they are
passionately entwined. Rocking and rolling in Byron's carriage,
sailing through storms, discussing the uses of opium or exchanging
ghost stories at the Villa Diodati, the group is principally
concerned with who will be favored by the muse. Even Polidori is
bitten by the literary bug or, in his case, bat. His story The
Vampyre is inspired by an idea of Byron's, thus suggesting that His
Lordship has power to damn with a pathetic immortality.
West concludes that Polidori killed himself because of
disappointment: to be an artist was to be fully alive, but not to
make the grade was a living death. His friend Mary Shelley
succeeded with Frankenstein. Subtitled "The Modern Prometheus," the
gothic classic comes alive by galvanizing the divine and the tragic
in human nature. In its own way so does West's tour de force -- a
grand tour sparked by an irresistible force.