Peacock, for instance, never leaves England nor gives us any but English characters, quiet if not actually subdued, and usually unexceptionable in behavior. Disraeli is really as circumscribed. He apparently transports us to Heaven, Hades, some unsuspected isle in the far seas, but he actually conveys all these to the isle where he was born. Thackeray and even Meredith keep strictly to terra firma.
If it were desirable to make comparisons with a view to determining whether any particular ingredient made for success in this sort, we might observe the connection between originality and exaggeration in their relation to effectiveness. Evidence from the data seems to indicate that satiric value, estimated by weight and pertinence of ideas, is in direct proportion to the amount of inventive wit; but in irregular or even inverse ratio to extravaganza or caricature.
For example, the general order of both satiric and constructive excellence, is approximately as follows,—listed in an ascending series: Meredith, Thackeray, Lytton, Disraeli, Peacock, Butler. But to reach a climax of pure fantasy we would pass from Thackeray through Peacock, Disraeli, Butler, and Lytton, to Meredith. Exaggeration does not seem, therefore, to inhere in satire though it may enhance it.
The chief advantage of the fantastic is that it gives unfettered play to whatever fancy the mind is endowed with; and it enlists a naturally too serious Criticism under the brilliant banner of Wit. That its attractions are many is proved by its distinguished history; for enrolled among the members of this versatile society are such names as Reynard the Fox, Romance of the Rose, Piers Plowman, Don Quixote, Dunciad, Gulliver, Don Juan.
Few on our list deserve comparison with these; none perhaps except Erewhon. Peacock’s name might have a place, not for any one tale but for the toute ensemble. What one of Disraeli’s biographers[117] says of Popanilla, that it is “a work of the same kind as Swift’s Gulliver’s Travels” is true enough, but would be more to the point if the Travels had been confined to Laputa.
Not only are our modern instances comparatively light in quality, but restricted in range. The fable, for example, is not represented at all, nor the allegory, though both forms have had a sort of revival in even more recent times. These deficiencies, if such they are, are easily accounted for by the fact that in the nineteenth century realism (in the liberal sense) was having its day, that it had taken especial possession of the Victorian novel, particularly in its satiric aspect, so that such scattered fantasies as we have may be regarded as the crumbs from an opulent table.
The marks of the satiric extravaganza are wit, invention, and exaggeration. In a general way the opposites of these may be called respectively humor, interpretation, and exposure; and it may be premised that these last will be found the characteristics of satiric realism.
Another contrast that may be anticipated is that when romance is used as a satiric vehicle it is built expressly for that purpose and carries its passenger in solitary state; while realism is a public carry-all, in which this fare is allowed a place along with the others.
Whether further generalization as to relative effectiveness is possible is a question that must be deferred until after the discussion of the complementary type.