Book contents
- Frontmatter
- Contents
- Acknowledgements
- Dedication
- Abbreviations
- Note on Correspondence
- Prologue: The Gentleman Adventurer
- Introduction: The Periodic Legend
- PART I ‘The Prentice Politician’, 1885–92
- PART II ‘The Fountain of His Brain’, 1893–1913
- PART III ‘The Fleshly Tenement’, 1914–36
- Conclusion
- The Literature
- Appendices
- Bibliography
- Index
12 - Colonialism: Misdirected Labours
Published online by Cambridge University Press: 22 November 2024
- Frontmatter
- Contents
- Acknowledgements
- Dedication
- Abbreviations
- Note on Correspondence
- Prologue: The Gentleman Adventurer
- Introduction: The Periodic Legend
- PART I ‘The Prentice Politician’, 1885–92
- PART II ‘The Fountain of His Brain’, 1893–1913
- PART III ‘The Fleshly Tenement’, 1914–36
- Conclusion
- The Literature
- Appendices
- Bibliography
- Index
Summary
THE BULK OF GRAHAM’S most outspoken anti-imperial works were focused around 1895–6, where, apart from ‘Fraudesia Magna’, they were confined to small circulation periodicals, a pamphlet, and a provincial newspaper known for its radical opinions, where they would have been little read, and had no discernible influence other than to attract Garnett to him. There was, however, a more subtle but related canon of work that found a wider readership, sketches set in exotic locations, which gave him more scope to develop his impressionistic skills, and which were a more consistent conduit for his views on the lasting impact of imperialism’s economic and cultural impositions.
Graham had been struggling with a history of the gauchos since 1894, when his friend, the naturalist and author, W. H. Hudson, encouraged him to write about his own experiences in South America in the form of vignettes, following the model of La Pampa (1890), by the French author, Alfred Ébélot:
If you could get up a book containing mainly your own impressions of Gaucho life and character, on the lines of the French work ‘La Pampa,’ and well illustrated (like that work), it would, I think, stand a better chance of success than a historical book.
It appears that it was from Ébélot that Graham, at least at the beginning, derived his inspiration. He did indeed use his own memories as a means of celebration, of documentation, but, more often, like Ébélot’s work, they were a means of communicating loss. If his anti-imperialist polemics dealt with the moral questions of conquest and annexation, these pieces would mourn the consequences of colonisation, and the advance of ‘civilisation’ and ‘progress’, and the subsequent passing of uniqueness, of customs, of whole populations, as well as the loss of habitat. An excellent example of this was his early sketch ‘Un Angelito’ (1899), which described the gaucho custom of displaying the corpses of recently deceased infants:
An ‘Angelito’ stored in a cool, dark room to keep him from the flies, and then brought out at night to grace a sort of Agapemone, shows past and present linked together in a way that argues wonders, when they both make way for that unfathomable future, the fitting paradise for the unimaginative … one thing I know, that in the Pampa of Buenos Ayres it and all other customs of a like kind are doomed to disappear.
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- Information
- R. B. Cunninghame Graham and ScotlandParty, Prose, and Political Aesthetic, pp. 130 - 138Publisher: Edinburgh University PressPrint publication year: 2022