New Grub Street by George Gissing (best mobile ebook reader .txt) 📕
Description
Grub Street is the name of a former street in London synonymous with pulp writers and low-quality publishers. New Grub Street takes its name from that old street, as it follows the lives and endeavors of a group of writers active in the literary scene of 1880s London.
Edwin Reardon is a quiet and intelligent writer whose artistic sensibilities are the opposite of what the London public wants to read. He’s forced to write long, joyless novels that he thinks pop publishers will want to buy. These novels are draining to write, yet result in meager sales; soon Edwin’s increasingly small bank account, and his stubborn pride, start to put a strain on his once-happy marriage.
His best friend, Biffen, lies to one side of Edwin’s nature: as another highly-educated writer, he accepts a dingy, lonely, and hungry life of abject poverty in exchange for being able to produce a novel that’s true to his artistic desires but is unlikely to sell. On the other side lies Jasper Milvain, an “alarmingly modern” writer laser-focused on earning as much money as possible no matter what he’s made to write, as he floats through the same literary circles that Edwin haunts.
The intricately-told tale follows these writers as their differing outlooks and their fluctuating ranks in society affect them and the people around them. Gissing, himself a prolific writer intimately familiar with the London literary scene, draws from his own life in laying out the characters and events in the novel. He carefully elaborates the fragile social fabric of the literary world, its paupers and its barons both equal in the industry but unequal in public life. Though the novel is about writers on the face, the deep thread that runs through it all is the brutality of the modern social structure, where the greedy and superficial are rewarded with stability and riches, while the delicate and thoughtful are condemned to live on the margins of respectable society in grimy poverty, robbed not only of dignity, but of love.
Read free book «New Grub Street by George Gissing (best mobile ebook reader .txt) 📕» - read online or download for free at americanlibrarybooks.com
- Author: George Gissing
Read book online «New Grub Street by George Gissing (best mobile ebook reader .txt) 📕». Author - George Gissing
It was four or five days after this that Reardon, on going to his work in City Road, found a note from Carter. It requested him to call at the main hospital at half-past eleven the next morning. He supposed the appointment had something to do with his business at Croydon, whither he had been in the meantime. Some unfavourable news, perhaps; any misfortune was likely.
He answered the summons punctually, and on entering the general office was requested by the clerk to wait in Mr. Carter’s private room; the secretary had not yet arrived. His waiting lasted some ten minutes, then the door opened and admitted, not Carter, but Mrs. Edmund Yule.
Reardon stood up in perturbation. He was anything but prepared, or disposed, for an interview with this lady. She came towards him with hand extended and a countenance of suave friendliness.
“I doubted whether you would see me if I let you know,” she said. “Forgive me this little bit of scheming, will you? I have something so very important to speak to you about.”
He said nothing, but kept a demeanour of courtesy.
“I think you haven’t heard from Amy?” Mrs. Yule asked.
“Not since I saw her.”
“And you don’t know what has come to pass?”
“I have heard of nothing.”
“I am come to see you quite on my own responsibility, quite. I took Mr. Carter into my confidence, but begged him not to let Mrs. Carter know, lest she should tell Amy; I think he will keep his promise. It seemed to me that it was really my duty to do whatever I could in these sad, sad circumstances.”
Reardon listened respectfully, but without sign of feeling.
“I had better tell you at once that Amy’s uncle at Wattleborough is dead, and that in his will he has bequeathed her ten thousand pounds.”
Mrs. Yule watched the effect of this. For a moment none was visible, but she saw at length that Reardon’s lips trembled and his eyebrows twitched.
“I am glad to hear of her good fortune,” he said distantly and in even tones.
“You will feel, I am sure,” continued his mother-in-law, “that this must put an end to your most unhappy differences.”
“How can it have that result?”
“It puts you both in a very different position, does it not? But for your distressing circumstances, I am sure there would never have been such unpleasantness—never. Neither you nor Amy is the kind of person to take a pleasure in disagreement. Let me beg you to go and see her again. Everything is so different now. Amy has not the faintest idea that I have come to see you, and she mustn’t on any account be told, for her worst fault is that sensitive pride of hers. And I’m sure you won’t be offended, Edwin, if I say that you have very much the same failing. Between two such sensitive people differences might last a lifetime, unless one could be persuaded to take the first step. Do be generous! A woman is privileged to be a little obstinate, it is always said. Overlook the fault, and persuade her to let bygones be bygones.”
There was an involuntary affectedness in Mrs. Yule’s speech which repelled Reardon. He could not even put faith in her assurance that Amy knew nothing of this intercession. In any case it was extremely distasteful to him to discuss such matters with Mrs. Yule.
“Under no circumstances could I do more than I already have done,” he replied. “And after what you have told me, it is impossible for me to go and see her unless she expressly invites me.”
“Oh, if only you would overcome this sensitiveness!”
“It is not in my power to do so. My poverty, as you justly say, was the cause of our parting; but if Amy is no longer poor, that is very far from a reason why I should go to her as a suppliant for forgiveness.”
“But do consider the facts of the case, independently of feeling. I really think I don’t go too far in saying that at least some—some provocation was given by you first of all. I am so very, very far from wishing to say anything disagreeable—I am sure you feel that—but wasn’t there some little ground for complaint on Amy’s part? Wasn’t there, now?”
Reardon was tortured with nervousness. He wished to be alone, to think over what had happened, and Mrs. Yule’s urgent voice rasped upon his ears. Its very smoothness made it worse.
“There may have been ground for grief and concern,” he answered, “but for complaint, no, I think not.”
“But I understand”—the voice sounded rather irritable now—“that you positively reproached and upbraided her because she was reluctant to go and live in some very shocking place.”
“I may have lost my temper after Amy had shown—But I can’t review our troubles in this way.”
“Am I to plead in vain?”
“I regret very much that I can’t possibly do as you wish. It is all between Amy and myself. Interference by other people cannot do any good.”
“I am sorry you should use such a word as ‘interference,’ ” replied Mrs. Yule, bridling a little. “Very sorry, indeed. I confess it didn’t occur to me that my goodwill to you could be seen in that light.”
“Believe me that I didn’t use the word offensively.”
“Then you refuse to take any step towards a restoration of good feeling?”
“I am obliged to, and Amy would understand perfectly why I say so.”
His earnestness was so unmistakable that Mrs. Yule had no choice but to rise and bring the interview to an end. She commanded herself sufficiently to offer a regretful hand.
“I can only say that my daughter is very, very unfortunate.”
Reardon lingered a little after her departure, then left the hospital and walked at a rapid pace in no particular direction.
Ah! if
Comments (0)