December 12, 1999|By Merle Rubin | By Merle Rubin,Special to the Sun
"Osbert Sitwell," by Philip Ziegler. Alfred A. Knopf. 464 pages. $30.
It may seem hard to believe, but the Sitwells -- that trio of aristocratic sibling-aesthetes, Edith, Osbert, and Sacheverell -- once enjoyed considerable esteem in the literary world. At the height of their fame, in the late 1940s, they were revered on both sides of the Atlantic. They were profiled in Life magazine. Cyril Connolly dedicated an issue of Horizon to them. Evelyn Waugh, Elizabeth Bowen and art historian Kenneth Clark were just a few of their admirers. In Waugh's opinion, "They declared war on dullness." Max Beerbohm even opined that the talented Sitwells had surpassed three Brontes, although it should be borne in mind that "the incomparable Max" was a humorist.
Not everyone shared the enthusiasm. The high-powered critic F.R. Leavis tartly declared that the Sitwells belonged "to the history of publicity, rather than that of poetry." Although, as biographer Philip Ziegler believes, the Sitwells were quite sincere in their passion for art and literature, they were exhibitionists who relished all the attention they got.
Born in the 1890s, they launched their careers in the teens of this century, presenting themselves as a threesome. Sacheverell, the youngest, was primarily an art historian. Edith, the eldest -- tall, ungainly, almost crane-like in appearance -- was the best poet of the three. Essayist, novelist, poet, and travel writer, Osbert, the middle child, took the lead in promoting them all.
The Sitwells were early champions of the Modernist movement. "Let us prune the tree of language/ Of its dead fruit./ Let us melt up the cliches / Into molten metal," declared Osbert in a poem of 1919. The heir to his family title and fortune, Osbert was a generous patron to aspiring artists, although his father, Sir George, feared that his extravagant spending would ruin them all.
Osbert truly made his mark after the Second World War, with the publication of "Left Hand, Right Hand," the first book of his five-volume autobiography. It revealed almost nothing of his personal life (such as the fact that he was homosexual), but offered a leisurely, ornate, quasi-Proustian summoning up of a vanishing social world: "Osbert's achievement," notes Ziegler, "was to vest the trivial with significance ..." Among Osbert's most amusing creations was his comically grotesque portrait of his by-now-deceased father.
Although there have been two biographical "group portraits" of all three Sitwells, a life of Edith, and even one of Sacheverell (the married Sitwell), surprisingly, there has been none of Osbert, who was in many ways the most colorful.
He -- and we -- are fortunate that Philip Ziegler, one of the most knowledgeable, witty and entertaining biographers now writing, has turned his capable hand to the task. Not only does he evoke the lively milieu of literary friendships, gossip, and feuds surrounding the Sitwells, but he even has some kind words to say on behalf of Osbert's father: The hapless Sir George may have had good reason to worry about his son's expenditures.
Osbert's life story will undoubtedly delight readers interested in the Modernist movement, Bloomsbury and the English literary scene. But this biography also has the broader appeal of any good novel: memorable characters, family drama and social texture, all crisply limned in sparkling prose that brilliantly illuminates an intriguing corner of literary history.
Merle Rubin writes for the Christian Science Monitor, the Wall Street Journal and the Los Angeles Times, among others. She has a doctorate in English from the University of Virginia and studied English as an undergraduate at Smith College and Yale University.
