Her Word For It

Perhaps peter neagoe was feeling lucky when he contacted Laura Riding in 1931, seeking a piece for his anthology, Americans Abroad. He secured contributions from Pound, Hemingway, Stein, and Williams. Was it too much to hope that Riding would offer something? Most definitely – but she did allow him to publish her letter of refusal. It carried a postscript: 'You say that your anthology will be free from literary politics. If this means neutrality, then I prefer literary politics, as I prefer wrongness to middleness.'¹ In later decades, a peculiar form of literary politics, born of her relationship with Robert Graves, shaped ideas about Riding and her work. Biographical accounts of Riding have often lacked 'neutrality'. Such is the case in Tom Matthews's memoir Under the Influence and the biographies of Graves written by Martin Seymour-Smith and Richard Perceval Graves. The promotion of these stories continues: Poetic Unreason, a Graves biopic, is currently under production and being billed as 'a tale of sexual jealousy and obsession'.² As biographer and editor, Elizabeth Friedmann offers an alternative account of Riding's life, along with a selection from the poetry and prose comprising that life's work.

Riding, or (Riding) Jackson as she chose to be known in later life after her renunciation of poetry, always struggled to accept others' portrayals of herself. Even the more benign efforts met with objections. When John Aldridge painted her portrait in 1933 she was moved to suggest some alterations. The lips were misproportioned in size, too 'neat and cruel', making her look 'unnecessarily frightening' (p. 208). As the studies of Graves began to appear and be reviewed, Riding reacted with anger, sending out countless letters to editors. She could not resist entering into these spats. 'Every published nastiness' was felt acutely: 'it has been published, editors have passed it, contributors have written it, readers have read it. And it is about me, myself!' (p. 449). One can imagine what her response to the prospect of Poetic Unreason would be. Consequently, in her later years, Riding frequently had cause to write in her own defence. It is this task that Friedmann takes on. Rather than the books of Matthews and Seymour-Smith, the best benchmark against which to judge her efforts is Deborah Baker's In Extremis: The Life of Laura Riding, published in 1993. What Friedmann has over Baker is indicated by her subtitle. Writing against Riding's wishes, Baker was forced to cut her story short. The life of Laura (Riding) Jackson, the years between 1939 when she split with Graves and 1991 when she died, are sketched out only in the last chapter.³ Friedmann, on the other hand, maintained a close friendship with Riding and has had unprecedented access to her papers; Friedmann's is the authorised biography. And yet it is on this point that Baker could be seen to have the advantage, for A Mannered Grace feels a little too authorised in places, a little wanting in 'middleness'.

These doubts are raised by Friedmann's account of the earlier life, as she sets about justifying Riding's behaviour. The greatest flaw she attributes to her is 'naïveté' (pp. 124, 252). What others saw as 'vanity', Friedmann regards as 'a healthy self respect'; any 'judgemental egotism' she sees as 'a scrupulosity of adherence to the principle of the good in human conduct and relations' (p. viii). With this last phrase Friedmann slips into the voice of Riding's later prose. Events in Riding's life are recast in line with these judgements, and this effort seems particularly strained in recounting the most notorious incidents. Take the case of what is perhaps the most disputed episode in Riding's life, the events of summer 1939, when she and Graves left London to live alongside Schuyler and Kit Jackson, and a small number of friends, in Pennsylvania. The association with Jackson...