You behold the interior of a carpenter’s shop. In the foreground of that
carpenter’s shop is a hideous, wry-necked, blubbering, red-headed boy,
in a bed-gown; who appears to have received a poke in the hand, from the
stick of another boy with whom he has been playing in an adjacent
gutter, and to be holding it up for the contemplation of a kneeling
woman, so horrible in her ugliness, that (supposing it were possible for
any human creature to exist for a moment with that dislocated throat)
she would stand out from the rest of the company as a Monster, in the
vilest cabaret in France, or the lowest gin-shop in England. Two almost
naked carpenters, master and journeyman, worthy companions of this
agreeable female, are working at their trade; a boy, with some small
flavor of humanity in him, is entering with a vessel of water; and
nobody is paying any attention to a snuffy old woman who seems to have
mistaken that shop for the tobacconist’s next door, and to be hopelessly
waiting at the counter to be served with half an ounce of her favourite
mixture. Wherever it is possible to express ugliness of feature, limb,
or attitude, you have it expressed. Such men as the carpenters might be
undressed in any hospital where dirty drunkards, in a high state of
varicose veins, are received. Their very toes have walked out of Saint
Giles’s.
This, in the nineteenth century, and in the eighty-second year of the
annual exhibition of the National Academy of Art, is the Pre-Raphael
representation to us, Ladies and Gentlemen, of the most solemn passage
which our minds can ever approach. This, in the nineteenth century, and
in the eighty-second year of the annual exhibition of the National
Academy of Art, is what Pre-Raphael Art can do to render reverence and
homage to the faith in which we live and die! Consider this picture
well. Consider the pleasure we should have in a similar Pre-Raphael
rendering of a favourite horse, or dog, or cat; and, coming fresh from a
pretty considerable turmoil about “desecration” in connexion with the
National Post Office, let us extol this great achievement, and commend
the National Academy!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account