‘Byron and 1812’ London Byron Society Symposium, Kingsway Hall Hotel, 10–14 September 2012

The first day of the London Byron Society’s Symposium on the theme of ‘Byron and 1812’ coincided with a victory parade for the UK’s Olympic athletes. Celebration was in the air (as well as several red arrows) as delegates made their way through worse than usual traffic congestion in the capital towards the conference venue. Delegates met to register and enjoy a welcome reception in the Kingsway Hall Hotel in Covent Garden prior to setting off for John Murray’s at 50 Albemarle Street.

The conference theme was broadly intended to celebrate the bicentenary of the publication of the first two cantos of Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage. Childe Harold was the first of Byron’s works to be published by John Murray. The publisher’s descendant, John Murray VI, once said he often had ‘the fanciful thought that on the morning that Byron woke up to find himself famous, Murray woke to find himself a gentleman’. The sentiment neatly articulates the mutual benefit the poem brought to poet and publisher – 2012 also marks the bicentenary of Murray’s acquisition of Albemarle Street, a location he described as ‘peculiarly favourable for the dissemination of any work of eminence among the fashionable & literary part of the Metropolis’. I have worked on Byron and Murray for many years but had never visited Albemarle Street and I cannot describe my excitement as I approached the famous premises. We enjoyed wonderful hospitality from John and Virginia Murray, and a particularly informative talk from Virginia Murray, and were encouraged to wander about, inspecting some treasures which were on display. Amongst several (some disturbingly long) locks of hair were Byron’s boots, a beautiful miniature of Caroline Lamb, the manuscript of the first two cantos of Childe Harold, and intriguingly, the notebook from which the memoirs were torn and burned in the upstairs drawing room.

The following morning saw the academic programme begin with two superb close readings of Childe Harold I and II from Bernard Beatty (Liverpool and St Andrews) and Michael O’Neill (Durham). Beatty’s paper revisited a question that critics have been asking for 200 years and will probably be asking for 200 more – what was it about Childe Harold which led it to take (in his words) ‘sudden and entire possession of English minds in 1812?’ His answer was to stress the combination of violence, lyrical elegance, and impetuosity in the opening cantos and to offer a fascinating reading of ‘the Harold problem’. O’Neill illuminated what he called Byron’s ‘poetry of departure’ in a forensic analysis of the poem, demonstrating the manner by which Byron’s poetry often welcomes ‘accidental contingency’. Both papers focused on the force and drive of Childe Harold which propels the poem forward – as Beatty reminded us, ‘no one does rushing better than Byron’.

After lunch, the panel focused on female authors and Byronic heroines. Anna Camillieri (Oxford) began by reminding us of the contrast between Byron’s often passive heroes and his lively heroines. With special emphasis on Don Juan, Camillieri argued that it is in the civilised world of conversation that these heroines excel. Caroline Franklin (Swansea) spoke eloquently about Caroline Lamb and Glenarvon, stressing that the novel is a critique of the Byronic hero and exploring its influence on Victorian feminist writing and particularly on ‘silver-fork’ novels. The concluding paper saw Peter Graham (Virginia Tech) contrast what he called the light and dark side of the spirit of the age, Childe Harold and Pride and Prejudice. 2013 sees the bicentenary of the publication of Jane Austen’s novel, and it was fascinating to hear Graham explore it with reference to Byron.

The second evening saw delegates enjoy a visit to Melbourne House. I regretted not being able to attend at the time, and regret it even more so after hearing a report of events from Bernard Beatty. He described the walk there on a beautiful summer’s evening, through Covent Garden, past Drury Lane Theatre, and the site of Dickens’s infamous blacking factory, along the embankment to Melbourne House...