In Hypatia, Kingsley had portrayed “the dying world” of Rome, especially in the chapter headed by that phrase. In Marius the Epicurean, Pater had pointed out the coming downfall of Rome in several different ways. He had said, for example, that the Germanic tribes, whom Marcus Aurelius defeated, were merely the advance guard of a vast body of wandering tribes destined to overrun the Roman world. Marcus Aurelius in his triumph over the Germans, appeared to Marius, “chiefly as one who had made the great mistake,” as a man who had failed. “The most Christian” Stoic Emperor, in pursuing his thoroughly Roman policy of enforcing worship of the gods with an iron hand at Rome, and ruthlessly subjugating peoples on the frontiers of the Empire, had failed to save Rome from becoming more and more a nation of “coarse, vulgar people,” an Empire that failed. In Veranilda we see the impressive remains of that great failure. Its psychology, like that of most of Gissing’s work, is the psychology of failure. As the decayed condition of his old home appears to be symbolic of failure to Marius, near the end of Marius the Epicurean, so all through Veranilda the decay of material things seems to symbolize the downfall and death of “Eternal Rome.” Yet the gleams of hope, which appear through the gloom, are symbolic of a new life. While no such large contrast is made in Veranilda, as is made in Hypatia, the hope of Christianity in a failing world is made very real.
Aside from the scene depicting the murder at the villa, there are few sensational scenes in Veranilda. Moreover, in most of the scenes of importance, it is noticeable that only a limited number of people appear. The greater part of the novel is pitched in a minor key. There are countless incidents of importance, whisperings, doubts, uncertainties; trivial words often have a hidden meaning, trifling actions assume great importance. The remains of Rome’s grandeur are suggested in the character of Flavius Anicius Maximus, a worthy descendant of an ancient and noble family; and his sister Petronilla serves to keep before our minds something of the uncompromising pride of any descendant of an old Roman family. A similar pride appears in the characters of the Deacon Leander and Vigilius. But more fitting messengers of God are the holy Abbott Benedict and his monks. The scenes about the monastery are drawn with a masterful touch; one feels the genuine influence for good, which the holy Abbott has over Basil, and the real help which he gives to Basil, in the difficulty with which Basil is confronted. St. Benedict appears as a man who leads a genuinely spiritual life, with insight enough to solve all of Basil’s difficulties.
Veranilda herself is a truly radiant figure, and it is in justice that the novel is named for her. She does not often appear upon the scene, it is true, but the sincerity of her character and her overwhelming loveliness are drawn with convincing strokes. Her innocence at all times, especially when in Marcian’s power, and her faith in those into whose care she is entrusted, are points of strength in her character, not of weakness; and she proves herself truly great in her forgiveness of Basil. In his delineation of character especially, Gissing has at times equalled the exquisite touches of Pater. How little is told of St. Benedict or of Veranilda, yet how definitely their characters are impressed upon the reader! Veranilda is beyond question, the character who best represents beauty of body and soul, in the novel of Roman life, and, I believe, surpasses Pater’s Marius in representing a “soul naturally Christian.” In any case, one feels that in Veranilda, as in Marius the Epicurean, there always exists the esthetic conception of an inseparable connection between physical and spiritual beauty. Gissing followed Pater in showing that the life of Rome could be portrayed as being far from entirely physical and material; and he showed more definitely than Pater, that Roman life could be presented in the form of a novel, with realistic effect, yet with the exercise of a discriminating selection of the finer elements of subject matter, and in a style delicately fitted to portray these finer elements.
A review of esthetic elements to be found in the novel of Roman life would not be complete without some consideration of two recent novels by Mr. Eden Phillpotts, Evander, (1919), and Pan and the Twins, (1922). Mr. Phillpotts has shown his appreciation for classic art in The Joy of Youth, while another of his novels, The River, shows his love for the beautiful in nature. Mr. George Moore says, “Morality is but a dream, but beauty is real;” his novel, The Brook Kerith, is not considered here as a novel of Roman life, but in it the author often harks back to the beautiful pagan world. There is something of this in the two novels of Roman life written by Mr. Phillpotts. As has been said, George Ebers had written, A Question; The Idyl of a Picture by His Friend Alma Tadema, (1881), which presents the beauties of pastoral life in semi-mythological classic times in pre-historic Sicily, and suggests Evander in subject matter. In Marius the Epicurean, Pater had said, “Farm life in Italy, including the culture of the olive and the vine, has a grace of its own, and might well contribute to the production of an ideal dignity of character, like that of nature itself in this gifted region. Vulgarity seemed impossible.” The ideal beauty of a simple, outdoor life, centering in the farmer’s hut, appears in Evander, a novel which portrays life in prehistoric Italy and abounds in beautiful pastoral description. In its portrayal of life, Evander shows somewhat the same discriminating selection of esthetic elements to be seen in Marius the Epicurean. and Veranilda; but unlike the work of Pater or Gissing, Evander has a rich and picturesque humor. Here, in Mr. Phillpotts’ novel, is optimism in contrast to the detachment of Pater, and Gissing’s somewhat continuous pessimism. Mr. Phillpott’s light, humorous, cheerful style in Evander, makes the novel rank far below Marius the Epicurean and Veranilda as a work of art, and is a concession to popular taste; yet it has a virtue of its own. Many readers, who would find Marius the Epicurean too serious, could read Evander with pleasure and profit.
Evander portrays life in Italy when marriage was just coming into fashion; it is really a satire of the “triangle” of the ordinary man, the genius, and the woman who does not know her own mind. But it truthfully represents the beginnings of things most characteristically Roman; especially the Roman ideals of the home, the community, and finally law, ideals which sprang from the simple, austere, agricultural life of the prehistoric Romans. The author is right in representing as real to these primitive Romans, “nymphs, goat-foot fauns and other immortal creatures of lake and mountain, vale and forest, who spied upon humanity with wonder when the world was young.” Among other gods, Pan, under the Latin name of Faunus, appears to a mortal woman, in Evander, as he had done in Mr. James Stephens’ novel, The Crock of Gold; and the humorous, delicately satiric style of Evander at times suggests Mr. Stephen’s work. In portraying life “when the world was young,” the author of Evander seems to ask, “Why should it grow old?” And in portraying ancient pagan life as a satire on modern life, he does not fail to show that the ideals and aspirations of man have changed but little.
Pan and the Twins, (1922), as its title suggests, makes a similar use of the god Pan, and is a novel written in a style similar to that of Evander. It differs from Mr. Phillpotts’ other novel of Roman life in including historical material. Not very much history is brought into Pan and the Twins, but when historical events are mentioned, they are made vividly significant, and are rightly interpreted. The scene is laid chiefly on a country estate near Rome, and in the time of Valentinian, though other Roman Emperors are mentioned. Even more than Evander, Pan and the Twins suggests Mr. James Stephens’ The Crock of Gold, but is a better constructed novel and a finer piece of art. The satire of Pan and the Twins is delicate but very pointed at times, as when Theodosius convinces the Christian bishop that it is not his duty to the State to have Arcadius burned alive. Its humor is equally delicate, but no one could fail to laugh at the spectacle of one of the Emperor’s favorite bears, which escapes from its cage at the amphitheatre and becomes very much worried that “malefactors” are no longer provided as its daily food.[36]
While its philosophy is at times “sugar-coated,” Pan and the Twins offers a very strong plea for sanity in religion and life, and suggests that they are one and the same thing. Moreover, in its portrayal of life, it distinctly seeks for elements of beauty. With a few delicate touches, the author presents in his heroine a figure of ideal physical and spiritual beauty, not unlike Gissing’s Veranilda in conception. In portraying Roman life, coarser elements are kept in the background. One is made to feel the existence of the horrors of the amphitheatre, the inconsistencies of the Church, and much of the varied life of Rome. Roman customs, as, for example, the marriage ceremony, are correctly described. But in the foreground of the picture appear always scenes amid the sunlight and pure air of the Roman country landscape. Pan and the Twins is not a great novel, but one that contains much beautiful writing. The scenes which it portrays are selected chiefly for their esthetic appeal, but are real, none the less; not inconsistent with life, past or present. It is not necessarily either “pagan” or Christian; but seems to undertake to show that beauty cannot be defined entirely in terms of morality, Christianity, or paganism. Pan and the Twins ranks far below such a consummate piece of art as Marius the Epicurean, but successfully presents the esthetic, in terms more readily appreciated by the popular taste.
IV
In Conclusion
In thus reviewing the principal lines of development which the novel of Roman life has followed to the present day, it has been found that, in some cases, these lines lead away ultimately from the true type of the novel which portrays the life of Rome with realistic effect. Thus the line of the novel of Roman life as written by scholarly preachers has been found to branch off, at a certain point, into the line of the story of religious instruction, a form which was excluded by definition in Section I of this study. The line of the “popular” novel of Roman life has always had a tendency to branch off, and deteriorate into cheap imitations, which attempt to use Roman life to provide artificial coloring, but do not really portray Roman life at all. The line of the novel of Roman life written to illustrate “schoolbook” history has in most cases branched off directly into the line of books for boys—Mr. Davis’s and Mr. White’s novels being the notable exceptions. While there has been little direct imitation of the pedantic elements in the work of German scholars, with their meticulous overemphasis upon detail; German novelists such as Eckstein have been shown to follow Scott in their methods of writing historical novels, and to suggest in turn to English novelists, the thorough way in which subjects taken from Roman life may be presented by any novelist. Few English novelists have attained notable success in portraying Roman life in terms which suggest the purity of style and beauty of thought of Pater’s Marius the Epicurean.