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Beauchamp's Career
Beauchamp's Career (1876) is a political novel, but it's politics are sexual as well as national.
Nevil Beauchamp, impetuous and idealistic, is a naval officer from an aristocratic family, and a hero of the Crimean War. Like Frederick Maxse, Meredith's close friend and the model for his character, Beauchamp converts to Radicalism and decides to stand as a political candidate. But it is his relationships with women, notably the Tory heiress Celia Halkett, which plot his development in the course of the novel.
By concentrating on the role of women, Beauchamp's Career depicts the difficulties of bringing about social and political change in England in the period of the 1867 Reform Bill. Stylish and sometimes eccentric, the novel is an illuminating contrast to the more conventional fiction of Meredith's contemporaries.
Nevil Beauchamp, impetuous and idealistic, is a naval officer from an aristocratic family, and a hero of the Crimean War. Like Frederick Maxse, Meredith's close friend and the model for his character, Beauchamp converts to Radicalism and decides to stand as a political candidate. But it is his relationships with women, notably the Tory heiress Celia Halkett, which plot his development in the course of the novel.
By concentrating on the role of women, Beauchamp's Career depicts the difficulties of bringing about social and political change in England in the period of the 1867 Reform Bill. Stylish and sometimes eccentric, the novel is an illuminating contrast to the more conventional fiction of Meredith's contemporaries.
594 pages, Mass Market Paperback
First published January 1, 1875
About the author
George Meredith
1,524 books103 followersGeorge Meredith of Britain wrote novels, such as
The Ordeal of Richard Feverel
(1859), and poetic works, including
Modern Love
(1862).
During the Victorian era, Meredith read law, and people articled him as a solicitor, but shortly after marrying Mary Ellen Nicolls, a 30-year-old widowed daughter of Thomas Love Peacock, in 1849 at 21 years of age, he abandoned that profession for journalism.
He collected his early writings, first published in periodicals, into Poems, which was published to some acclaim in 1851. His wife left him and their five-year old son in 1858; she died three years later. Her departure was the inspiration for The Ordeal of Richard Feverel (1859), his first "major novel." It was considered a breakthrough novel, but its sexual frankness caused a scandal and prevented it from being widely read.
As an advisor to publishers, Meredith is credited with helping Thomas Hardy start his literary career, and was an early associate of J. M. Barrie. Before his death, Meredith was honored from many quarters: he succeeded Lord Tennyson as president of the Society of Authors; in 1905 he was appointed to the Order of Merit by King Edward VII.
His works include: The Shaving of Shagpat (1856), Farina (1857), Vittoria (1867) and The Egoist (1879). The Egoist is one of his most enduring works.
Librarian note: There is more than one author in the Goodreads database with this name.
George^Meredith
During the Victorian era, Meredith read law, and people articled him as a solicitor, but shortly after marrying Mary Ellen Nicolls, a 30-year-old widowed daughter of Thomas Love Peacock, in 1849 at 21 years of age, he abandoned that profession for journalism.
He collected his early writings, first published in periodicals, into Poems, which was published to some acclaim in 1851. His wife left him and their five-year old son in 1858; she died three years later. Her departure was the inspiration for The Ordeal of Richard Feverel (1859), his first "major novel." It was considered a breakthrough novel, but its sexual frankness caused a scandal and prevented it from being widely read.
As an advisor to publishers, Meredith is credited with helping Thomas Hardy start his literary career, and was an early associate of J. M. Barrie. Before his death, Meredith was honored from many quarters: he succeeded Lord Tennyson as president of the Society of Authors; in 1905 he was appointed to the Order of Merit by King Edward VII.
His works include: The Shaving of Shagpat (1856), Farina (1857), Vittoria (1867) and The Egoist (1879). The Egoist is one of his most enduring works.
Librarian note: There is more than one author in the Goodreads database with this name.
George^Meredith
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Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews
February 17, 2021
I have such soaring esteem and admiration for this novel that I hardly know what tone to take, not to speak of what to say, in a review. This is one of the greatest things to have come out of Victorian literature, and I would write, “all literature,” or “the Victorian period,” if I knew enough of either. It’s possibly the greatest novel I have ever read. It places the worldliest wisdom in the unlikeliest setting. The characters in this book are superhuman in their acts and ideas, their integrity, fortitude, endurance, and even in their errors and misdeeds, and yet Meredith makes it the simplest thing in the world to believe in them. He accomplishes what no other novelist has done, in my experience, by all but literally bringing characters to life on the basis of thought.
This is not to be confused with introspection, or stream of consciousness, or a consciousness itself that is as if spliced between character and author. Henry James writes novels of the last-named division, where one is always slipping on the threshold between a character’s mind and its creator’s. Partly this is because thought is so reflexive and analytical in a James novel, already transpired if not caught out of time; one might add that the characters couldn’t possibly articulate themselves as James does, but it’s thought in question, not expression. In the latter respect, it’s been argued against Meredith that all his characters speak as he would – that he appropriates their identities, in effect – yet this is a criticism that counts in Meredith’s favor once his distinction from James, namely, comes into focus. The sticking point is that it isn’t clear, in a James novel, who does the thinking because it isn’t certain that the characters are capable of such dazzling excesses of thought, whereas one knows exactly that Meredith’s people can think as intelligently, feelingly, complexly, vividly, bombastically, spiritedly as he demonstrates. Put another way, one isn’t sure in either case, given the narrative tactics of both novelists, where creativity peels away from diegesis and outstrips it, as it were, but Meredith endows his characters with a potential indefinitely ascribed to James’. And Meredith plies stream of consciousness, yes, only the consciousness streamed is curiously verbalized, and he stages introspection too, only in something remarkably like real time – neither of which quirks James can lay claim to.
This comparison is not by any means to James’ disadvantage, for the record: it just helps me distinguish what makes Meredith unique. And I’m inclined to say he is in a league of his own, difficult as I confess it is to believe it. Usually – always, in fact, with the present exception – a writer hails from a discernible tradition, or borrows from influences, or resembles contemporaries, or anticipates future trends enough to fit snugly enough somewhere, even if it’s by virtue of not fitting somewhere else. An exceptional writer moves, and sometimes challenges, his reader to due appreciation, but not outright bewilderment. I can only compare my latest experience with Meredith’s work, rereading Beauchamp, to watching one – and only one – particular film that totally beggared my sense of what I was seeing (and rewarded me for it).
What elevates Meredith’s work and enciphers it surpasses his manner of character-building. See, I wouldn’t even call it a talent for characterization: that’s not what it is. Meredith creates people so impeccably flawed, so defectively faultless, that in effect he performs ordinary miracles before your very eyes. I cannot tell you what heroism is in this terrific novel populated with majestic, marred individuals except that it is human.
This is not to be confused with introspection, or stream of consciousness, or a consciousness itself that is as if spliced between character and author. Henry James writes novels of the last-named division, where one is always slipping on the threshold between a character’s mind and its creator’s. Partly this is because thought is so reflexive and analytical in a James novel, already transpired if not caught out of time; one might add that the characters couldn’t possibly articulate themselves as James does, but it’s thought in question, not expression. In the latter respect, it’s been argued against Meredith that all his characters speak as he would – that he appropriates their identities, in effect – yet this is a criticism that counts in Meredith’s favor once his distinction from James, namely, comes into focus. The sticking point is that it isn’t clear, in a James novel, who does the thinking because it isn’t certain that the characters are capable of such dazzling excesses of thought, whereas one knows exactly that Meredith’s people can think as intelligently, feelingly, complexly, vividly, bombastically, spiritedly as he demonstrates. Put another way, one isn’t sure in either case, given the narrative tactics of both novelists, where creativity peels away from diegesis and outstrips it, as it were, but Meredith endows his characters with a potential indefinitely ascribed to James’. And Meredith plies stream of consciousness, yes, only the consciousness streamed is curiously verbalized, and he stages introspection too, only in something remarkably like real time – neither of which quirks James can lay claim to.
This comparison is not by any means to James’ disadvantage, for the record: it just helps me distinguish what makes Meredith unique. And I’m inclined to say he is in a league of his own, difficult as I confess it is to believe it. Usually – always, in fact, with the present exception – a writer hails from a discernible tradition, or borrows from influences, or resembles contemporaries, or anticipates future trends enough to fit snugly enough somewhere, even if it’s by virtue of not fitting somewhere else. An exceptional writer moves, and sometimes challenges, his reader to due appreciation, but not outright bewilderment. I can only compare my latest experience with Meredith’s work, rereading Beauchamp, to watching one – and only one – particular film that totally beggared my sense of what I was seeing (and rewarded me for it).
What elevates Meredith’s work and enciphers it surpasses his manner of character-building. See, I wouldn’t even call it a talent for characterization: that’s not what it is. Meredith creates people so impeccably flawed, so defectively faultless, that in effect he performs ordinary miracles before your very eyes. I cannot tell you what heroism is in this terrific novel populated with majestic, marred individuals except that it is human.
February 6, 2022
How to write a review of a book that is a masterclass of fictive writing? Meredith is in a class of his own in Victorian age fiction. Here he marries the real-life political activities of Frederick Maxse with his fictional alter-ego Beauchamp. It's really the age-old clash of classes in good old England. The moneyed class holding the reins of power and casting a critical eye on both the merchant class and the downtrodden working class. Beauchamp is a member of the upper class but his proclivities and beliefs rest in social change and a re-appraisal of the feudal system still holding sway in England. Influenced by radicalism in the shape of a charismatic people's advocate Dr Shrapnel (love the name) he battles his peers and the upper class family into which he was born, nearly to the detriment of his own life.
Marriages beckon and he is forced to choose between a beguiling French countess (romanticism), an English heiress who is slowly brought around to his way of political thinking although still beholden to her families social structure and ultimately unable to break away) and his final choice Jenny Denham a woman who provides him with an heir.
I won't spoil the ending but it seemed rushed to me, Meredith after a lengthy (he really requires close, slow contemplation of his words, something which pays off in spades both philosophically and emotionally) exposition and slow but steady progress through the novel, introduces Jenny Denham as a key pivot point in his tale (yet for 500 pages she has had a really minor role). all 3 women in their own way are pivotal to the plot and Meredith's exploration of English politics in the 1870's (both sexual and social).
Never mind it's a minor quibble. This superb novel has stood the test of time and is remarkably relevant today. I do note that I am only the 10th reader on Goodreads!
I'll leave you with Meredith's own words from Pg 480 of this edition.
" My way is like a Rhone island in the summer drought, stony, unattractive and difficult between the two forceful streams of the unreal and the over-real. which delight mankind- honour to the conjurors!. My people conquer nothing, win none; they are actual yet uncommon. It is the clockwork of the brain that they are directed to set in motion, and poor troop of actors to vacant benches! the conscience residing in thoughtfulness which they would appeal to; and if you are impervious to them, we are lost: back I go to my wilderness, where as you perceive, I have contracted the habit of listening to my own voice more than is good."
There in a nutshell is a step back in time to the innermost thoughts of a giant of Victorian literature!
Marriages beckon and he is forced to choose between a beguiling French countess (romanticism), an English heiress who is slowly brought around to his way of political thinking although still beholden to her families social structure and ultimately unable to break away) and his final choice Jenny Denham a woman who provides him with an heir.
I won't spoil the ending but it seemed rushed to me, Meredith after a lengthy (he really requires close, slow contemplation of his words, something which pays off in spades both philosophically and emotionally) exposition and slow but steady progress through the novel, introduces Jenny Denham as a key pivot point in his tale (yet for 500 pages she has had a really minor role). all 3 women in their own way are pivotal to the plot and Meredith's exploration of English politics in the 1870's (both sexual and social).
Never mind it's a minor quibble. This superb novel has stood the test of time and is remarkably relevant today. I do note that I am only the 10th reader on Goodreads!
I'll leave you with Meredith's own words from Pg 480 of this edition.
" My way is like a Rhone island in the summer drought, stony, unattractive and difficult between the two forceful streams of the unreal and the over-real. which delight mankind- honour to the conjurors!. My people conquer nothing, win none; they are actual yet uncommon. It is the clockwork of the brain that they are directed to set in motion, and poor troop of actors to vacant benches! the conscience residing in thoughtfulness which they would appeal to; and if you are impervious to them, we are lost: back I go to my wilderness, where as you perceive, I have contracted the habit of listening to my own voice more than is good."
There in a nutshell is a step back in time to the innermost thoughts of a giant of Victorian literature!
September 24, 2019
Anyone who likes political novels such as Trollope’s palliser series needs to read this novel.
Displaying 1 - 3 of 3 reviews