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ELT : VOLUME 35:2 1992 spectable networking are quite different from the "marginalized" status of the twentieth-century modernist avant-garde and raise interesting questions about the nature of the connection between art and industry, as well as the ways in which arts patronage becomes increasingly restricted to a rarified social elite. Another issue which emerges is the importance of imperialist nationalism in the formation of this style. The relationship between colonialism and the rise of art nouveau clearly requires further exploration in terms of seeing how the possession of colonies led to opening new markets, discovering new motifs as well as generating higher levels of disposable income to support cultural pursuits . Unfortunately, King does not address such tantalizing patterns of historical detail. All in all, one can conclude that this study provides a useful starting point for more detailed analyses and carefully contextualized studies. The book might usefully serve as a sourcebook for late nineteenth-century undergraduate courses as well as assisting scholars wishing a quick reference guide to the subject. As is often the case with graphic design, the medium has been neglected in comparison to the more prestigious genres of architecture and painting. In this respect, although King's book offers an important contribution, it is frustrating that she perpetuates the old hierarchy of genres. Almost invariably she discusses the so-called more important mediums first and then uses this discussion to set the stage for the treatment of graphic designers. The very ordering of the text works against understanding the integration of the arts during the period—a concept which King mentions but fails to convincingly develop. While the reproductions in the book are gorgeous, careless proof reading results in numerous typographical and grammatical errors . This poor state of production is ironic in light of the book's subject. B. J. Elliott _________________________ University of Alberta Lawrence Biography, I John Worthen. D. H. Lawrence: The Early Years, 1885-1912. New York: Cambridge University Press, 1991. xxx + 626 pp. $35.00 MANY YEARS AGO Cambridge University Press conceived a massive and misguided project. Three English academics, none of whom had ever written a biography, would each write one-third of a discrete life of Lawrence, totaling at the end about two thousand pages—about four or five times longer than a longish literary life. Though two authors have 252 BOOK REVIEWS sometimes collaborated on a biography, never, in the history and tradition of life-writing, have three different authors, writing three different parts of a book, been willing to sacrifice what have always been considered the essential characteristics of the genre: unity of mind, mood, tone, narrative, style and structure. At the beginning of this book the composite authors attempt to justify their still unfinished and unpublished work by announcing that, since it is based on new material in the Cambridge edition of Lawrence's Works and Letters, it now "makes all existing biographies out of date." Since my 445-page biography, published by Knopf in 1990, was also based on the Cambridge editions, it is presumably equally up to date. The project gets off to a sinking start with Worthen's volume, for his method is absolutely deadly. He is extremely thorough and careful, and makes no factual errors. But he has compiled a doggedly mechanical encyclopedia of facts, which clog and often halt the narrative. He has worked hard to accumulate all these facts, refuses to waste any of them and puts in everything he has found—even if it is uninteresting and irrelevant. It is academic self-indulgence to pour out thousands of facts, for their own sake, without even attempting to interest the reader. Worthen uses the same matter-of-fact tone for the most banal as well as the most dramatic moments. He piles on the references and quotations to support obvious points. The short, discrete, separately titled sections of each chapter—isolated little essays—break the book into fragments and dash any hope of a unified narrative. The transitions are extremely awkward: "It is time to retrace our steps and consider . . ." (273); "If for a moment we step out of the narrative history to take stock of where Lawrence had got...

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