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Pull Devil, Pull Baker
Stella Benson and an exiled Russian swap tales in 1930s China. First published by MacMillan in 1933.
- GenresNonfictionBiography
238 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 1933
95 people want to read
About the author
Stella Benson
50 books34 followersStella Benson (1892-1933) was an English feminist, travel writer and novelist. Stella was often ill during her childhood. By her sixth birthday, she and her family, based in London, had moved frequently. She spent some of her childhood in Germany and Switzerland getting an education. She began writing a diary at the age of ten and kept it up for all of her life. By the time she was writing poetry, around the age of fourteen, her mother left her father; consequently, she saw her father infrequently. When she did see him, he encouraged her to quit writing poetry for the time being, until she was older and more experienced. Instead, Stella increased her writing output, adding novel-writing to her repertoire.
Stella was noted for being compassionate and interested in social issues. Like her older female relatives, she supported women's suffrage. During World War I, she supported the troops by gardening and by helping poor women in London's East End at the Charity Organisation Society. These efforts inspired Benson to write the novels I Pose (1915), This Is the End (1917) and Living Alone (1919). She also published her first volume of poetry, Twenty, in 1918.
Benson's writings kept coming, but none of her works is well known today. Pipers and a Dancer (1924) and Goodbye, Stranger (1926) were followed by another book of travel essays, Worlds Within Worlds, and the story The Man Who Missed the 'Bus in 1928. Her most famous work, the novel The Far-Away Bride, was published in the United States first in 1930 and as Tobit Transplanted in Britain in 1931. It won the Femina Vie Heureuse Prize. This was followed by two limited edition collections of short stories, Hope Against Hope (1931) and Christmas Formula (1932).
She died of pneumonia just before her forty-first birthday in December 1933, in the Vietnamese province of Tonkin. Her last unfinished novel Mundos and her personal selection of her best poetry, Poems, were published posthumously in 1935. Her Collected Stories were published in 1936. Anderson's sons from his second marriage were Benedict Anderson and Perry Anderson.
Stella was noted for being compassionate and interested in social issues. Like her older female relatives, she supported women's suffrage. During World War I, she supported the troops by gardening and by helping poor women in London's East End at the Charity Organisation Society. These efforts inspired Benson to write the novels I Pose (1915), This Is the End (1917) and Living Alone (1919). She also published her first volume of poetry, Twenty, in 1918.
Benson's writings kept coming, but none of her works is well known today. Pipers and a Dancer (1924) and Goodbye, Stranger (1926) were followed by another book of travel essays, Worlds Within Worlds, and the story The Man Who Missed the 'Bus in 1928. Her most famous work, the novel The Far-Away Bride, was published in the United States first in 1930 and as Tobit Transplanted in Britain in 1931. It won the Femina Vie Heureuse Prize. This was followed by two limited edition collections of short stories, Hope Against Hope (1931) and Christmas Formula (1932).
She died of pneumonia just before her forty-first birthday in December 1933, in the Vietnamese province of Tonkin. Her last unfinished novel Mundos and her personal selection of her best poetry, Poems, were published posthumously in 1935. Her Collected Stories were published in 1936. Anderson's sons from his second marriage were Benedict Anderson and Perry Anderson.
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Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews
February 16, 2019
If you are curious about the title: http://www.worldwidewords.org/qa/qa-p...
A really extraordinary work - she is doing some metafictional/genre-bending stuff here in the early 30s that one usually associates with the 60s and 70s.
She is as funny as always, and the Count’s tall tales are a pleasure to read (and his strange spellings, grammar and all the rest make for a unique reading experience).
Well worth checking out. Sits just below “This is the End” in terms of a ranking of her work (as far as I am concerned).
A really extraordinary work - she is doing some metafictional/genre-bending stuff here in the early 30s that one usually associates with the 60s and 70s.
She is as funny as always, and the Count’s tall tales are a pleasure to read (and his strange spellings, grammar and all the rest make for a unique reading experience).
Well worth checking out. Sits just below “This is the End” in terms of a ranking of her work (as far as I am concerned).
January 21, 2023
Unieke mix van inzichten over biografie, fictie, waarheid.. + een heerlijke vertelling.
Loved it.
Loved it.
May 14, 2025
‘Pull Devil, Pull Baker’ (1933) is one of those books that defy description, classification, summaries, or one might add, reviews.
On the face of it, it is a biography of an old Russian Count, going by the intriguing name of Nicolas de Toulouse Lautrec de Savine, KM. Now, as you delve deeper into the life of this old reprobate, you will learn that while his name is French, his ancestors, most (if not all) of them of royal blood, include Russian, Polish, German and French, to say nothing of Toulousain, Swedish, and Slav nobility; while his titles are derived, on his father's side, from Count Thomas de Lautrec, ennobled as a result of valour in the Crusades, and from the same family as the Marquise de Sevigné, the great letter writer, on the distaff side. Thus, Toulouse Lautrec de Savine. And, since he hates to be called the Count de Savine, KM is tacked on, because he is also a Hereditary Knight of Malta.
And what drew me on to read this book? The name Toulouse Lautrec. I was hoping to read a biography of the Great Louche, the painter of seedy bars and tired prostitutes. But our count will have nothing to do with the painter. He is not a dauber, but of and from and to the greatest families a descendant, even though he lies, seventy-seven years old, in a charity bed at the Free Hospital at Hongkong.
And from an initial whine of disappointment, Benson and the Count throw me into raptures of ecstasy, as between them, they recount the life of the Count and his glorious adventures, in language that captures Europe, if not any single one of her languages perfectly. Idiosyncratic as himself, neither the spelling nor the syntax, does Benson attempt to edit.
And that brings us to another question: is the Count a real person? According to Benson’s biographer, her diaries mention meeting an old Russian in the Free Hospital at Hongkong, with the strange name of Nicolas de Toulouse Lautrec de Savine, KM. Beyond that, Benson herself teases you:
“FOR the real existence of the Count Nicolas de Toulouse Lautrec de Savine I can vouch—and not only I, but hundreds of persons all over China. The old gentleman makes no secret of himself.”
And here starts an unforgettable, a wild, dizzy ride, a wicked, impudent tale, with the flying away and the holding back of the baker’s creations. But is this one book by two people pulling in opposite directions? Is it one book by one person? If so, who is the author? The Count? Or Benson? Brilliantly anticipating post-war metafiction, ‘Pull Devil, Pull Baker’ questions the image or idea of reality. It stands as one of the great puzzles/literary biographies/fantasies/metafiction/satires of twentieth century literature in English. In the end, it is for each reader to enjoy, relish, and decide for himself/herself how to classify it, or indeed, why classify it at all.
On the face of it, it is a biography of an old Russian Count, going by the intriguing name of Nicolas de Toulouse Lautrec de Savine, KM. Now, as you delve deeper into the life of this old reprobate, you will learn that while his name is French, his ancestors, most (if not all) of them of royal blood, include Russian, Polish, German and French, to say nothing of Toulousain, Swedish, and Slav nobility; while his titles are derived, on his father's side, from Count Thomas de Lautrec, ennobled as a result of valour in the Crusades, and from the same family as the Marquise de Sevigné, the great letter writer, on the distaff side. Thus, Toulouse Lautrec de Savine. And, since he hates to be called the Count de Savine, KM is tacked on, because he is also a Hereditary Knight of Malta.
And what drew me on to read this book? The name Toulouse Lautrec. I was hoping to read a biography of the Great Louche, the painter of seedy bars and tired prostitutes. But our count will have nothing to do with the painter. He is not a dauber, but of and from and to the greatest families a descendant, even though he lies, seventy-seven years old, in a charity bed at the Free Hospital at Hongkong.
And from an initial whine of disappointment, Benson and the Count throw me into raptures of ecstasy, as between them, they recount the life of the Count and his glorious adventures, in language that captures Europe, if not any single one of her languages perfectly. Idiosyncratic as himself, neither the spelling nor the syntax, does Benson attempt to edit.
And that brings us to another question: is the Count a real person? According to Benson’s biographer, her diaries mention meeting an old Russian in the Free Hospital at Hongkong, with the strange name of Nicolas de Toulouse Lautrec de Savine, KM. Beyond that, Benson herself teases you:
“FOR the real existence of the Count Nicolas de Toulouse Lautrec de Savine I can vouch—and not only I, but hundreds of persons all over China. The old gentleman makes no secret of himself.”
And here starts an unforgettable, a wild, dizzy ride, a wicked, impudent tale, with the flying away and the holding back of the baker’s creations. But is this one book by two people pulling in opposite directions? Is it one book by one person? If so, who is the author? The Count? Or Benson? Brilliantly anticipating post-war metafiction, ‘Pull Devil, Pull Baker’ questions the image or idea of reality. It stands as one of the great puzzles/literary biographies/fantasies/metafiction/satires of twentieth century literature in English. In the end, it is for each reader to enjoy, relish, and decide for himself/herself how to classify it, or indeed, why classify it at all.
Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews