Tim Pendry's Reviews > Philistia

Grant Allen was a Canadian-origin science writer who, at the age of 36, put his heart and soul into his first novel 'Philistia' (1884). It got panned. This did not stop him from becoming a popular writer of 'sensational novels' and speculative fiction for the next fifteen years.

His turn from serious literature towards popular entertainment should not be regretted because he produced some fine genre work that made him at times the contemporary equal of Conan Doyle but this first effort bears re-visiting. It is, I think, better than most first novels that I have read.

The main reason that it was criticised stands up. It is a novel of ideas and, I am afraid, too frequently the ideas (while cogently expressed) are too often delivered as lengthy speeches by the protagonists (at least in the first third) but I suspect there was more to the dislike than this.

It is in fact a satire on the high Victorian class system and especially on the upper middle classes that happens to be both cynical and kindly at the same time. It is no accident that this was a colonial with a scientific mind enjoying the hypocrisies and complexities of the English class system.

I suspect some of the satirical strikes - especially at the expense of journalism and popular radicalism more than at the expense of the Church and aristocracy - hit home. There would be something here to displease every reader without a sense of humour.

In fact, while I could not say that this novel should be added to the syllabus of literary studies classes, it could, with profit, be read by anyone interested in high Victorian culture and even history . It could be used as a primer on almost everything that drove the ideology of the day.

The characters also prove to be surprisingly likeable even when they are foolish (which is often in some cases) while the 'hypocrites' and the conventional are allowed to condemn themselves by their speech and actions rather than be tagged by the author.

The 'socialism' in the novel is hidden in plain sight. Although Max Schurz, the old revolutionary, is clearly modelled on someone like Karl Marx, the kindly intellectual is clearly offering us something closer to Christian Socialism with added class struggle.

Indeed, a very British left-wing link betwen traditional Christian values (as opposed to established Church values) and the emerging secular socialism pushing up against the hypocrisies of Victorian radicalism is evident here.

The ambience is unusual - the interface between religious fervour, early idealistic socialism, the workings of the market (specifically journalism) and the idiosyncrasies of all classes which are treated as often the more absurd the higher they are in the pecking order.

The passionate cause of Ernest Le Breton walking out of his job in an aristocratic household - the moral wrongness of shooting pigeons - is a delightful bit of humour. The sharp caricature of the aristocracy sometimes has bite when it comes to the matter of the London slums.

And yet the most attractive and intriguing character is Lady Hilda Tregellis, a society beauty who is determined not to marry an Algy or Bertie or a Montie, has no theoretical ethics whatsoever but does the most practical good in cahoots with the likeable working class origin aesthete Arthur Berkeley.

Perhaps this is the indirect message of the book. Life is about how you deal with the people you care about and who are in your circle, grand ideas are all very well but success in life depends on having 'pals' and love will eventually conquer all.

The women in general are very much treated as interesting characters in their own right with another strong character in Selah, the Hastings lower middle class girl who stands her ground against one reprobate Le Breton brother and marries a nicer one.

Class is everything in this novel. The working classes are treated perhaps too comically or as 'other' but it is the lower middles and the wilful aristocratic woman who triumph and marry for love into the coterie of upper middle class intellectuals around whom the book is built.

Nor is Allen unwilling to shock the reader - a key character very surprisingly dies), The cynical reality of power and patronage and the impossibility of truly 'bucking the system' is made crystal clear. Although happiness breaks out for the deserving, it is quite definitely an authorial 'fix'.

So many aspects of Victorian life and ideas are covered in this novel that it would be tiresome to go much further. It is simultaneously a caricature of that society and a fond reaffirmation of the values of the best of the age - especially a mock-Dickensian compassion, good done through deeds.

No, it is not a masterpiece of English literature but it is amusingly written - only a couple of places removed from Wodehouse at times - and keeps the reader entertained with only very rare quasi-philosophical longeurs. The satire is biting but never cruel.