New & Noteworthy
Atlantic, The, July, 2003 by Benjamin Schwarz
Thomas & Jane Carlyle by Rosemary Ashton Pimlico/Trafalgar Square Thomas Carlyle—the once celebrated but now unread Victorian sage—was gloomy, clumsy, pedantic, and literally (and otherwise) flatulent. His wife, Jane, was bitter, sardonic, brilliant (a guest informed her, "You would be a vast deal more amiable if you were not so damnably clever"), and intellectually frustrated.
His marriage proposal to her, not one to set a heart aflutter ("Together we may fail to be happy; separate, we can hardly fail to be miserable"), nicely set the tone for their less than cheerful matrimonial life. Indeed, Samuel Butler famously thanked God for letting the Carlyles marry each other "and so make only two people miserable instead of four." But this notoriously unhappy union is among the most compelling in literary history, because in their letters and journals these two wrote slyly, caustically, and endlessly about their intellectual and political world and, more ...