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Reviewed by:
  • Imagined Londons
  • Richard Maxwell (bio)
Imagined Londons, edited by Pamela K. Gilbert; pp. ix + 257. Albany: State University of New York Press, 2002, $54.50, $22.95 paper.

The title of this collection evokes Benedict Anderson's influential 1982 study of nationalism. According to Pamela Gilbert, "imagined Londons, like the imagined communities of nation, have enacted history as material entities" (2). There's a little syntactic blip here: I think "material entities" are meant to line up with "imagined Londons." "Imagined Londons" are presumably supposed to have the same historical force and presence as, say, England or France. With the possible exception, however, of Gilbert's own piece (on maps), a collectively written essay on "Diasporic Communities in the Global City," and, marginally, Angela Woollacott's investigation of Australian reactions to the Great Wen, the essays here do not uphold an analogy between London and the "imagined" nation- state. As Gilbert herself emphasizes, the pervasive assumption in the volume is that "there are no Londons other than those of the imagination" (1). In other words, London exists only insofar as it is perceived and represented by the efforts of many individuals and groups, over time. If we think back to Bishop Berkeley, we might well want to call this an idealist perspective; moreover, by dwelling on the apparently endless malleability of the city, Gilbert gives her idealism a somewhat romantic, occasionally solipsistic, intensity. Nothing could be more different from Anderson's deadpan account of how, in the imagined communities of the nation, everybody has to be—not only figuratively but literally— on the same page.

Outside of the observation that one can think of London in many different ways, I don't think this book gives, or could give, a plausible theoretical account of itself. On the other hand, how many essay collections succeed in such an endeavor? Here, as usual, it is safest to read the individual articles as contributing to a loosely defined overall project. About half the pieces treat Victorian or Edwardian topics, while the other half focus mostly on the twentieth century (typically, the last decade or two). The London that emerges, cumulatively, is made up of minority characters—black or Indian—in nineteenth-century plays; cross-dressing Victorian gentlemen; Arthur Symons attempting male urban spectatorship; tourists clutching their guidebooks; critical Australian women; secretive afficionados of marginal musical styles; Bangladeshis; pomo artists; and lonely V. S. Naipaul. Additionally, there are Gilbert's mapmakers (Hector Gavin, John Snow, Charles Booth), and—in another cartographical investigation—Harry Beck, that legendary map designer for the London Underground. Finally, the collection ends with Michael Levenson's investigation of millenial monuments (the Dome, the Jubilee Line stations, and so forth).

Many of these essays are not ambitious enough. I will focus on one example to suggest what I mean by ambitious. Woollacott has been doing a great deal of work on Australia and other parts of the former British Empire; however, her piece on Australians in London doesn't get far enough to convey a finished argument. According to Woollacott, "Australian women (and men)" who came to London between 1870 and 1940 didn't enjoy it much. It was chilly, claustrophobic, and class-bound. Hating London helped such women (and men) to construct a "self-congratulatory" (86) version of Australian national identity. This sounds right and is potentially interesting. London-hating as a spur to rebellious, as well as smug, chauvinism back home might turn out to be a key to a certain kind of (Commonwealth?) sensibility. On the other hand, it would be very useful to have some [End Page 336] points of reference. To take perhaps the closest available analogy, did Canadians react to London in the same way? Further afield—and outside the Commonwealth context—what about French perceptions, or American ones? In sum, a substantial comparative standard would make Woollacott's essay more engaging yet, as well as allowing for less constricted conclusions and a more vivid sense of whatever is unique about the Australian experience.

A number of other contributions to the present volume suffer from the same weakness; overspecialization, the internal logic of the case study, and perhaps space limitations frustrate the full...

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