IT seems a pity that sofas and chairs made of straw or bamboo should not be more used than they are. I mean, used as they come from the maker’s hands, not painted or gilded, and becushioned and bedizened into hopeless vulgarity. They are only admissible au naturel, and should stand upon their own merits. Those we have as yet attempted to make in England are exceedingly weak and ugly compared with the same sort of thing from other countries. In Madeira, for instance, the chairs, baskets, and even tables, are very superior in strength and durability, as well as in correctness of outline, to those made in England; and when we go further off, to the East, we find a still greater improvement in furniture made of bamboo. Here is a chair ([Fig. 23]), of a pattern familiar to all travellers on the P. and O. boats, and whose acquaintance I first made in Ceylon. It is essentially a gentleman’s chair, however, and as such is sinking into an honoured and happy old age in the dingy recesses of a London smoking-room. Without the side-wings, which serve equally for a table or leg-rest, and with the seat elongated and slightly depressed, such a chair makes a delicious, cool lounge for a lady’s use in a verandah.
Fig. 23.
Then here ([Fig. 24]) is a Chinese sofa made of bamboo which, in its own country, would probably not be encumbered with cushions, for they can be removed at pleasure. Where, however, there is no particular inducement to use cane or bamboo, then it would be better to have made by the village carpenter a settee—or settle, which is the real word—something like this. The form is, at all events correct; and in a private sitting-room, furnished and fitted to match, the effect would be a thousand times better than the modern couches, which are so often padded and stuffed into deformity.
Fig. 24.
Nothing can be simpler than the lines of the design, as is seen in this drawing ([Fig 25B]), without the cushions; and it would come within the scope of the most modest upholstering genius. In one’s own little den—which, by the way, I should never myself dignify by the name of boudoir, a word signifying a place to idle and sulk in, instead of a retreat in which to be busy and comfortable—such odds and ends of furniture, so long as there be one distinct feeling running through it all, are far more characteristic than commonplace sofas and chairs. If one must have large armchairs in a boudoir, or in a bedroom, here is one ([Fig. 26]) which is big enough in all conscience, and yet would go more harmoniously with an old-fashioned room than any fat and dumpy modern chair. If, on the other hand, the house in general, and this particular room, chances to be essentially in the style of the present day, then you would naturally choose some of the comfortable modern easy-chairs, taking care to avoid the shapes which are a mass of padded and cushioned excrescences. But modern armchairs can be very pretty, and I know several which are low and long, and straight and unassuming, and which yet preserve quite a good distinct outline. Such chairs as these are a sort of half-way house between bed and board, between absolute rest and uncomplaining unrest; famous places for thinking, for watching, for chatting, and, above all, for dozing.