H. G. Wells & Rebecca West

by Gordon N. Ray

Documents the affair between West and Wells through Wells' letters. Illustrated with personal photographs and drawings by Wells.

256 pages, Hardcover

First published January 1, 1974

About the author

Gordon N. Ray was an esteemed American author, literary scholar, and collector, widely recognized for his expertise on William Makepeace Thackeray and his extensive work in Victorian literature. Born in New York City in 1915, he graduated from Indiana University and earned his Ph.D. at Harvard, where he later taught before serving as a U.S. Navy officer in World War II. His wartime experiences, including long stretches aboard the USS Belleau Wood, were enriched by voracious reading, especially of Trollope.
Ray held prominent academic and administrative posts at the University of Illinois, serving as English department chair and later as vice president and provost. He was also a professor at New York University until 1980. His multi-volume edition The Letters and Private Papers of William Makepeace Thackeray and his two Thackeray biographies earned wide acclaim. In the 1950s, he helped acquire the H. G. Wells archives for Illinois, leading to significant publications on Wells and his correspondence.
From 1963 to 1985, Ray presided over the Guggenheim Foundation. He was elected to the American Academy of Arts and Sciences and the American Philosophical Society. His private collection of illustrated books was the foundation of major exhibitions at the Pierpont Morgan Library and Columbia University. Ray died in Manhattan in 1986, leaving a legacy of scholarship and curation.

Reviews

[Jim Jones]

I'm don't think printing large chunks of Well's letters to West to show the rise and fall of their relationship made for a very entertaining book, unless you like pet names and dull content. A reader interested in either writers would do better with standard biographies.

[LA]

Interesting enough, I just wasn't that motivated to read this book.

[Maureen]

Reading somebody else's love letters, even when that somebody is famous and dead, is awkward. At the first flowery profession of love I felt uncomfortable. When pet names came in I cringed. When they started writing "f" instead of "th" and other baby-talk I wanted to ralph so hard that I put the book down and didn't pick it up again.