Tag Archives: Bonallie Towers

My dear Henry James… the unpolished diamond is but a stone

Posted on June 29, 2016 by mafalda

[For correct and critical edition of this letter, see Mehew 5, 1346.] To Henry James [Colvin 1911, 2, pp. 254-256] Bonallie Towers, Branksome Park, Bournemouth, December 8, 1884 My dear Henry James, This is a very brave hearing from more … Continue reading →

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Posted in Letters, Robert Louis Stevenson | Tagged abstract, academic, accomplished, admirer, adroit, adventure, agree, art, artifice, attitude, audience, besotted, Bonallie Towers, Bournemouth, Branksome Park, characters, claret, complimented, corn, countryman, craftsmanlike, despair, dialogue, diamond, difference, education, envy, Fanny, incidents, interest, invalid, James, Lady Barberina, laity, left-handed, life, literature, lout, Macduff, mind, novel, Pennyman, people, performance, pinewoods, precision, proportion, public, purpose, reader, reflection, rejoinder, remarks, risk, Robert Louis Stevenson, rude, sea, seconder, sentiments, sequel, Shakespeare, sin, situations, slouch, stone, stories, stuff, suppressions, syllabub, Tom Jones, visits, writer | 1 Comment

The most truculent advertisement I ever saw

Posted on June 23, 2016 by mafalda

RLS had been unable to finish for the Pall Mall Christmas number the tale he had first intended; had tried the publishers with Markheim (afterwards printed in the collection called Merry Men), which proved too short; had then furbished up … Continue reading →

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Posted in Letters, Robert Louis Stevenson | Tagged advertisement, America, Bonallie Towers, Bournemouth, Cambridge, chariot, desperate, entertainment, Gladstone, Gosse, green corn, health, Morley, Negative Gravity, omen, Robert Louis Stevenson, sour apple tree, Stockton, success, tales, Thomas Hyke, Troy, truculent, verses, wealth, white hairs | 1 Comment

I think of giving ’em literature without words; and I believe if you were to try invisible illustration, it would enjoy a considerable vogue

Posted on June 9, 2016 by mafalda

Will Hicock Low was at that time teacher of drawing in the Cooper Institute, NY. [As usual, dots between square brackets indicate cuts made by Sidney Colvin. For full, correct and critical edition of this letter, see Mehew 5, 1327.] … Continue reading →

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Posted in Letters, Robert Louis Stevenson | Tagged address, advantage, airs, America, art, artist, beauty, Bonallie Towers, Bournemouth, Branksome Park, canons, Century, chicken-boned, Child's Garden of Verses, commonplace, copy, definitive, draughtsman, dry-point, Easter, Edinburgh, edition, engravings, etchings, eyes, flute, French, Hants, illustrate, illustration, illustrator, incident, issue, Khayyàm, literature, London, Low, Magazine of Art, market, meat-axe, mezzotints, motto, music, needle, orchestra, Phasellulus loquitur, Philistine, pictures, pines, plaudits, pleasure, poetical, portrait, printing, proofs, reward, Robert Louis Stevenson, roses, rustic, Sargent, send, States, stories, type, Vedder, verses, vogue, Waterloo, weariness, words | Leave a comment

We’ll no gie ower jist yet a bittie. We’ve seen waur; and dod, mem, it’s my belief that we’ll see better

Posted on June 5, 2016 by mafalda

Elizabeth Anne Ferrier (“Coggie”) was the sister of one of RLS’s oldest and most intimate friends of Edinburgh days, Walter, who had died of alcoholism the previous year. The “Perfessor and his wife, and the Prinshiple” (at the end of … Continue reading →

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Posted in Letters, Robert Louis Stevenson | Tagged amiss, anxiety, battle, Bell Rock, Bonallie Towers, Bournemouth, Campbell, Coggie, controversy, fellowship, Ferrier, fever-stricken, health, hoast-hoast-hoasting, knee-jottering, labour, miserable, nightmare-ridden, parade, photos, plunge, remains, review, Robert Louis Stevenson, room, Scots, shadow, shivering, snuffling, Te Deum, Wild Woman of the West | Leave a comment

What is bred in the bone will come out, sir, in the flesh

Posted on June 2, 2016 by mafalda

The next letter is written in the styles and characters of the two Edinburgh ex-elders, Johnstone (or Johnson) and Thomson alternately, the joke characters created by RLS and Baxter when they they were students at the university. [As usual, dots … Continue reading →

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Posted in Letters, Robert Louis Stevenson | Tagged aches, afternoon, attacks, Baxter, Bonallie Towers, bone, Bournemouth, Branksome Park, bray, dark, date, deevil, donkey, fever, flesh, hour, house, invalid, night, Robert Louis Stevenson, Scot, shivers, spirit, styled, Thomson, tower, turret, unwell, watches | 1 Comment

I am not sure that my incapacity to work is wholly due to illness

Posted on May 30, 2016 by mafalda

[Dots between square brackets indicate cuts made by Sidney Colvin. For full, correct and critical edition of this letter, see Mehew 5, 1322.] To W.E. Henley [Colvin 1912, p. 197] Bonallie Towers, Bournemouth, November 11, 1884. Dear boy, I have … Continue reading →

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Posted in Letters, Robert Louis Stevenson | Tagged £, Bonallie Towers, Bournemouth, bray, bum-baily, chills, chipper, Christmas number, donkey, Fanny, fear, fever, frock-coat, future, ghost story, gloom, Gosse, health, Henley, illness, incapacity, money, morphine, Pall Mall, Robert Louis Stevenson, rump, stop, suffering, waste, wife, words, work | Leave a comment

Fame is (truly) a vapour; do not think of it

Posted on May 25, 2016 by mafalda

From mid-November 1884 to mid-April 1885 RLS and his wife were tenants of a house named Bonallie Towers, pleasantly situated amid the pinewoods of Branksome Park, Bournemouth, and by its name recalling familiar Midlothian associations (Bonaly was an area on … Continue reading →

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Posted in Letters, Robert Louis Stevenson | Tagged Admiral Guinea, art, Bonallie Towers, Bournemouth, Branksome Park, cold, Deacon Brodie, defeat, design, differ, discretion, elbow, engineering, exaggerate, failure, fame, father, forest will, French, health, house, I hope, irreverent, Pew, Pickwick, pierres perdues, plays, re-establishment, religion, responsibility, silly, success, Thomas Stevenson, vapour, victory, wisdom, writer | Leave a comment

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Tag Archives: Bonallie Towers

My dear Henry James… the unpolished diamond is but a stone

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The most truculent advertisement I ever saw

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I think of giving ’em literature without words; and I believe if you were to try invisible illustration, it would enjoy a considerable vogue

Rate this:

We’ll no gie ower jist yet a bittie. We’ve seen waur; and dod, mem, it’s my belief that we’ll see better

Rate this:

What is bred in the bone will come out, sir, in the flesh

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I am not sure that my incapacity to work is wholly due to illness

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Fame is (truly) a vapour; do not think of it

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