Mark Bostridge

A biography of an (auto)biography is a strange, if nonsensical, concept. But such is the power of Testament of Youth that there are doubtless others like me who wish to delve deeper into its development.

I measure this work by what it adds to Testament of Youth. Naturally, it is factual and investigative in nature. First, it dispels several exaggerations. Vera Brittain's struggle to continue her studies isn't as desperate as it appears, given the positive feminist role models around her. The "Lost Generation" is an emotive term which applies more to the schools and colleges with military links than to the wider population. Moreover, VADs (voluntary nurses) and non-professional officers were in the Great War predominantly from middle-class backgrounds, again not representative of Britain's efforts as a whole.

Second, it picks up on nuances which many readers may have missed. For example, initially Brittain is ignorant of worldly affairs, admitted as such in the opening lines: "...it came not to me as a superlative tragedy, but as an interruption of an exasperating kind...". But it takes a long while before she becomes a true, ingrained pacifist. Roland Leighton is probably not as anti-war as Brittain makes out. Contrasting Roland's famous words "Modern warfare is merely a trade" are letters from Roland to Vera which represent the front line as surprisingly idyllic.

Third, it adds new insight which may disappoint readers who hold Vera and her brother Edward in the highest light. Who would think it is Vera who persuades Edward to join the military so soon against his wishes? Separately, the Afterword details an investigation which reveals the disturbing truth behind Edward's demise.

I skipped the last chapter on the development of the movie. Partly because I haven't seen the movie, but more because a book about a movie derived from a book is too much for me to handle. All in all, this is a good short read for those who enjoyed Testament of Youth, but little more: under no circumstances should one read this before Testament of Youth.… (mais)

I read this biography in the hopes of shedding the cliche Florence Nightingale has inadvertently become in my mind. The very name conjures up a saintly figure of epic kindness. A woman with angel wings and endless patience. Someone with a glowing halo and endless caring calm. I wanted Bostridge's biography to turn an otherwise glossy icon into flesh and bone with faults and no-so-saintly feelings. It turns out, the public did a lot to add to the "lady with the lamp" mythology for when the desperate attach an attribute like hope to a person, the image becomes angelic. Such was the desperation of soldiers during the Crimean War. The lamp Nightingale often carried beat back the darkness (and encroaching fear of death) with its soothing soft glow. Elizabeth Gaskell called her a saint. John Davies implied she was a goddess with a magic touch.
Tidbits of interesting not-so-saintly information I enjoyed learning: from an early age Nightingale wanted to care for the sick. She was not shy about voicing her criticism regarding hospital conditions: defective ventilation and horrid sanitation practices. She didn't get along well with others as her persistence for improved conditions irked administrators far and wide. Through and despite all that, like a modern day celebrity craze, there was a insatiable demand for her likeness. Portraits of her cropped up everywhere. People were writing music about her. By 1855 people were naming boats and buildings after her.
Trivial details: Nightingale traveled through Egypt to Cairo with budding author Gustave Flaubert by sheer coincidence. She made Elizabeth Gaskell's acquaintance. She had a sister who lost her identity in the shadow of Florence's greatness. Florence made unusual animals her pets, a cicada and and owl.
There is no doubt Florence Nightingale: the Making of an Icon is the result of meticulous research.… (mais)