Content. Introduction. Chapter. I. Samuel Johnson and his biography

CHAPTER.I. Samuel Johnson and his biography.
1.1. Samuel Johnson and his biography.
Samuel Johnson, byname Dr. Johnson, (born September 18, 1709, Lichfield, Staffordshire, England—died December 13, 1784, London), English critic, biographer, essayist, poet, and lexicographer, regarded as one of the greatest figures of 18th-century life and letters.Johnson once characterized literary biographies as “mournful narratives,” and he believed that he lived “a life radically wretched.” Yet his career can be seen as a literary success story of the sickly boy from the Midlands who by talent, tenacity, and intelligence became the foremost literary figure and the most formidable conversationalist of his time. For future generations, Johnson was synonymous with the later 18th century in England. The disparity between his circumstances and achievement gives his life its especial interest. Samuel Johnson was the son of Michael Johnson, a bookseller, and his wife, Sarah. From childhood he suffered from a number of physical afflictions. By his own account, he was born “almost dead,” and he early contracted scrofula (tuberculosis of the lymphatic glands). Because of a popular belief that the sovereign’s touch was able to cure scrofula (which, for that reason, was also called the king’s evil), he was taken to London at the age of 30 months and touched by the queen, whose gold “touch piece” he kept about him for the rest of his life. This was succeeded by various medical treatments that left him with disfiguring scars on his face and neck. He was nearly blind in his left eye and suffered from highly noticeable tics that may have been indications of Tourette syndrome. Johnson was also strong, vigorous, and, after a fashion, athletic. He liked to ride, walk, and swim, even in later life. He was tall and became huge. A few accounts bear witness to his physical strength—as well as his character—such as his hurling an insolent theatregoer together with his seat from the stage into the pit or his holding off would-be robbers until the arrival of the watch.From his earliest years Johnson was recognized not only for his remarkable intelligence but also for his pride and indolence. In 1717 he entered grammar school in Lichfield. The master of the school, John Hunter, was a learned though brutal man who “never taught a boy in his life—he whipped and they learned.” This regime instilled such terror in the young boy that even years later the resemblance of the poet Anna Seward to her grandfather Hunter caused him to tremble. At school he made two lifelong friends: Edmund Hector, later a surgeon, and John Taylor, future prebendary of Westminster and justice of the peace for Ashbourne. In 1726 Johnson visited his cousin, the urbane Reverend Cornelius Ford in Stourbridge, Worcestershire, who may have provided a model for him, though it was Ford’s conviviality and scholarship rather than his dissipation (he is thought to be one of those depicted carousing in William Hogarth’s A Midnight Modern Conversation [1733]) that attracted Johnson. In 1728 Johnson entered Pembroke College, Oxford. He stayed only 13 months, until December 1729, because he lacked the funds to continue. Yet it proved an important year. While an undergraduate, Johnson, who claimed to have been irreligious in adolescence, read a new book, William Law’s A Serious Call to a Devout and Holy Life, which led him to make concern for his soul the polestar of his life. Despite the poverty and pride that caused him to leave, he retained great affection for Oxford. He would later say with reference to the poets of his college, “We were a nest of singing birds.” In 1731, the year of his father’s death, his first publication, a translation of Alexander Pope’s “Messiah” into Latin, appeared in A Miscellany of Poems, along with the poetry of other Oxford students. Pope was the leading poet of the age, and throughout most of his lifetime Johnson would comment on Pope’s achievement in various writings.In the following year Johnson became undermaster at Market Bosworth grammar school, a position made untenable by the overbearing and boorish Sir Wolstan Dixie, who controlled appointments. With only £20 inheritance from his father, Johnson left his position with the feeling that he was escaping prison. After failing in his quest for another teaching position, he joined his friend Hector in Birmingham. In 1732 or 1733 he published some essays in The Birmingham Journal, none of which have survived. Dictating to Hector, he translated into English Joachim Le Grand’s translation of the Portuguese Jesuit Jerome Lobo’s A Voyage to Abyssinia, an account of a Jesuit missionary expedition. Published in 1735, this work shows signs of the mature Johnson, such as his praise of Lobo, in the preface, for not attempting to present marvels: “He meets with no basilisks that destroy with their eyes, his crocodiles devour their prey without tears, and his cataracts fall from the rock without deafening the neighbouring inhabitants.” In 1735 Johnson married Elizabeth Porter, a widow 20 years his senior. Convinced that his parents’ marital unhappiness was caused by his mother’s want of learning, he would not follow their example, choosing instead a woman whom he found both attractive and intelligent. His wife’s marriage settlement enabled him to open a school in Edial, near Lichfield, the following year. One of his students, David Garrick, would become the greatest English actor of the age and a lifelong friend, though their friendship was not without its strains. It was with Garrick that some of the unflattering accounts of Johnson’s wife originated, and his mimicry of the couple later became a favourite comic setpiece of his. While at Edial, Johnson began his historical tragedy Irene, which dramatizes the love of Sultan Mahomet (Mehmed II) for the lovely Irene, a Christian slave captured in Constantinople. The school soon proved a failure, and he and Garrick left for London in 1737. In 1738 Johnson began his long association with The Gentleman’s Magazine, often considered the first modern magazine. He soon contributed poetry and then prose, including panegyrics on Edward Cave, the magazine’s proprietor, and another contributor, the learned Elizabeth Carter. Johnson intended to translate the Venetian Paolo Sarpi’s The History of the Council of Trent but was forestalled by the coincidence of another Johnson at work on the same project. However, his biography of Sarpi, designed as a preface to that work, appeared in The Gentleman’s Magazine, as did a number of his early biographies of European scholars, physicians, and British admirals.In 1738 and 1739 he published a series of satiric works that attacked the government of Sir Robert Walpole and even the Hanoverian monarchy: London (his first major poem), Marmor Norfolciense, and A Compleat Vindication of the Licensers of the Stage. London is an “imitation” of the Roman satirist Juvenal’s third satire. (A loose translation, an imitation applies the manner and topics of an earlier poet to contemporary conditions.) Thales, the poem’s main speaker, bears some resemblance to the poet Richard Savage, of whom Johnson knew and with whom he may have become friendly at this time. Before he leaves the corrupt metropolis for Wales, Thales rails against the pervasive deterioration of London (and English) life, evident in such ills as masquerades, atheism, the excise tax, and the ability of foreign nations to offend against “English honour” with impunity. The most famous line in the poem (and the only one in capitals) is: “SLOW RISES WORTH, BY POVERTY DEPRESSED,” which may be taken as Johnson’s motto at this time. When the poem appeared anonymously in 1738, Pope was led to predict that its author would be “déterré” (unearthed). Pope undoubtedly approved of Johnson’s politics along with admiring his poetry and tried unsuccessfully to arrange patronage for him. Marmor Norfolciense satirizes Walpole and the house of Hanover. A Compleat Vindication of the Licensers of the Stage is an ironic defense of the government’s Stage Licensing Act of 1737 requiring the lord chamberlain’s approval of all new plays, which in 1739 led to the prohibition of Henry Brooke’s play Gustavus Vasa attacking the English monarch and his prime minister by Swedish analogy. The latter two works show the literary influence of the Irish writer Jonathan Swift.Johnson at this time clearly supported the governmental opposition, which was composed of disaffected Whigs, Tories, Jacobites (those who continued their allegiance to the Stuart line of James II), and Nonjurors (those who refused to take either the oath of allegiance to the Hanover kings or the oath of abjuration of James II and the Stuarts). Despite claims to the contrary, Johnson was neither a Jacobite nor a Nonjuror. His Toryism, which he sometimes expressed for shock value, was based upon his conviction that the Tories could be counted upon to support the Church of England as a state institution. When Johnson attacked Whiggism or defended Toryism (an ideology for him more than a practical politics, especially since Tories remained a minority throughout most of his lifetime), he always took an outsider’s position. Later in life he expressed a high regard for Walpole. In 1739 Johnson published a translation and annotation of the Swiss philosopher Jean-Pierre de Crousaz’s Commentary on Pope’s philosophical poem An Essay on Man. Although he was able to show that many of Crousaz’s critical observations rested on a faulty French translation, Johnson often agreed with his judgment that some of Pope’s philosophical and social ideas are marred by complacency. About this time Johnson tried again to obtain a position as a schoolteacher. His translations and magazine writings barely supported him; a letter to Cave is signed “impransus,” signifying that he had gone without dinner. Despite his claim that “no man but a blockhead ever wrote except for money,” he never made a hard bargain with a bookseller and often received relatively little payment, even for large projects. He also contradicted his assertion frequently by contributing prefaces and dedications to the books of friends without payment.From 1741 to 1744 Johnson’s most substantial contribution to The Gentleman’s Magazine was a series of speeches purporting to represent the actual debates in the House of Commons. This undertaking was not without risk because reporting the proceedings of Parliament, which had long been prohibited, was actually punished since the spring of 1738. The series was dubbed “Debates in the Senate of Magna Lilliputia,” and this Swiftian expedient gives the speeches satiric overtones. Their status was complicated by the fact that Johnson, who had visited the House of Commons only once, wrote the debates on the basis of scant information about the speakers’ positions. Hence they were political fictions, though paradoxically they appeared to be fact masquerading as fiction. Johnson later had misgivings about his role in writing speeches that were taken as authentic and may have stopped writing them for this reason. While Johnson’s claim that he “took care that the Whig dogs should not have the best of it” has become notorious, Johnson’s Walpole defends himself skillfully, and many of the debates seem evenhanded. In the early 1740s Johnson continued his strenuous work for The Gentleman’s Magazine; collaborated with William Oldys, antiquary and editor, on a catalog of the great Harleian Library; helped Dr. Robert James, his Lichfield schoolfellow, with A Medicinal Dictionary; and issued proposals for an edition of Shakespeare. His Miscellaneous Observations on the Tragedy of Macbeth (1745), intended as a preliminary sample of his work, was his first significant Shakespeare criticism. In 1746 he wrote The Plan of a Dictionary of the English Language and signed a contract for A Dictionary of the English Language. His major publication of this period was An Account of the Life of Mr. Richard Savage, Son of the Earl Rivers (1744). If, as Johnson claimed, the best biographies were written by those who had eaten and drunk and “lived in social intercourse” with their subjects, this was the most likely of his many biographies to succeed. The Life was widely admired by, among others, the painter Joshua Reynolds, and it was reviewed in translation by the French philosopher Denis Diderot. Although Johnson had few illusions about his self-publicizing friend’s conduct and character, he nonetheless became his defender to a significant extent. Johnson’s title supports Savage’s claim to be the natural son of a nobleman—a claim of which others have been highly skeptical—but his biography, in its mixture of pathos and satire, at once commemorates and criticizes Savage. Johnson thought that Savage’s poverty cost society a great deal: Yet the conclusion leaves no doubt about Johnson’s ultimate judgment: “negligence and irregularity, long continued, will make knowledge useless, wit ridiculous, and genius contemptible.” If Johnson served as defense attorney throughout much of the biography, no prosecutor could have summed up the case against Savage more devastatingly.