“Mark Samuels Lasner is a genius of collecting, and he is a genius of connecting.” Elaine Showalter’s tribute to Samuels Lasner was part of her keynote address at the symposium “Celebrating the Mark Samuels Lasner Collection,” held at the University of Delaware March 17-18, 2017. The symposium, which marked Samuels Lasner’s donation of his extraordinary collection of Victorian books, manuscripts, and art to the University, accompanied an exhibition of highlights from the collection, which continues in the University Library through June 3.
Elaine Showalter, Professor Emerita of
English at Princeton
University, began her
address with A. S. Byatt’s 1990 novel Possession,
which includes a satiric portrait of Mortimer Cropper, a ruthless American
collector of Victorian manuscripts. Samuels Lasner, Showalter hastened to point out, is
no Cropper, and she praised the aptness of the exhibition’s title—not
“Victorian Possessions” but “Victorian Passions.” Samuels Lasner, she said, is a
passionate collector more interested in an item’s human interest than in its
physical condition or monetary value. His genius for connecting is demonstrated
not only in the way his collection places items within a dense narrative web of
“creation, meaning, and history”—to use Samuels Lasner’s own phrase—but in his many
connections to a range of people interested in the Victorian era, not only
collectors and dealers but also librarians and scholars. “Of all the great
collectors of Victorian literature,” Showalter proclaimed, “Mark Samuels Lasner
is the best connected and the most fun.”
Exhibition curator Margaret
Stetz assembled a variety of items from Samuels Lasner’s collection of more than 9,500 works of literature and art. Four that Samuels Lasner has identified as among his
favorites are of special interest to Morris scholars. The most visually
sumptuous is Morris’s illuminated manuscript catalogue of his book collection.
Morris never completed the project—the eighteen extant pages list only some of
the incunabula he owned—but the skill and time he lavished on the catalogue
reveal that his passion for book collecting rivaled Samuels Lasner’s.
Another Samuels Lasner
favorite is the 1881-1898 visitors' book for North End House, Edward
Burne-Jones’s seaside retreat on the Sussex coast. Burne-Jones, whom
Stetz labels a “compulsive cartoonist,” decorated the visitors' book with witty
caricatures of his guests and family, including a stout, heroic-looking William
Morris and a small, woeful Edward Burne-Jones. When the visitors' book arrived
in the mail from a dealer, out fell a drawing that Samuels Lasner had no idea was
included but that is familiar to everyone interested in the Pre-Raphaelites:
Burne-Jones’s drawing of himself in the Red Lion Square studio that he and
Morris shared, engaged in decorating a massive medieval-style chair—a chair
that is now just up the road from the Samuels Lasner Collection at the Delaware Art
Museum in Wilmington.
The fourth item is one of the
newest in the Samuels Lasner collection, a book that only two years ago Samuels Lasner believed
it would be “impossible” for him to obtain: a pristine copy of the Kelmscott
Chaucer. This great work of art exemplifies the connections that Samuels Lasner values,
representing a collaboration among Morris, Burne-Jones, the designers and
artisans of the Kelmscott Press, and Morris’s beloved predecessor Geoffrey
Chaucer.
Ten speakers were featured
during the symposium, all of whom testified to the Samuels Lasner Collection’s value to
the study of material culture. Recalling her own academic training during the
1960s and 1970s, Margaret Stetz pointed out that both New Critics and
post-structuralist theorists focused on texts, not books themselves; however,
the past three decades have seen renewed attention to books and other material
artifacts. Barbara Heritage of the University
of Virginia’s Rare Book School offered a theoretically
sophisticated defense of the importance of special collections at a moment when
influential figures within the field of library science are arguing that, in
the fully digitized era to come, books will no longer matter. R. David Lankes
made that case in a controversial 2014 talk, “Burn the Libraries and Free the Librarians”; Heritage implied that librarians might want to keep their matches
in their pockets.
Several speakers talked about
how specific items in the Samuels Lasner Collection make important contributions to our
understanding of the Victorian period. Joseph Bristow of UCLA discussed how two
illustrated collections of fairy tales by Oscar Wilde broaden our understanding
of Wilde’s career. William S. Peterson, Professor Emeritus of English at the University of Maryland, described his work in progress
on the Kelmscott Chaucer, noting that the presentation copy in Samuels Lasner’s
collection, inscribed to Robert Catterson-Smith, a Kelmscott Press designer,
reveals the complex collaboration that produced an artifact Burne-Jones
described as a “pocket cathedral.” David Taylor, an independent scholar from
the U.K.,
focused on the correspondence of Vernon Lushington, a little-known but
fascinating figure in Pre-Raphaelite circles. It was he who introduced
Burne-Jones and Dante Gabriel Rossetti to one another, and his daughter Kitty
served as model for Virginia Woolf’s Clarissa Dalloway.
Margaretta Frederick, Chief
Curator of the Delaware
Art Museum, described how
her study of May Morris landscape sketches in the Samuels Lasner Collection opened up
wider vistas on a figure increasingly recognized as a significant artist. She
also discussed her research on the artist Barbara Bodichon, who will be the
subject of a future exhibition at the Delaware Art Museum.
Linda Hughes of Texas
Christian University
talked about her ongoing research on frontispiece portraits of Victorian women
poets, drawing out the problematic relationship during the nineteenth century
between the woman poet’s body and her body of work. Frequently, Victorian
publishers avoided any visual representation of the woman poet by omitting a
frontispiece. However, as the century went on and women increasingly and
publicly put their bodies on the line in suffrage demonstrations, poets and
their publishers more often included a frontispiece, dealing in a variety of
ways with what Hughes called “the troublesome flesh of the female poet.”
Other speakers included Ed Maggs
of Maggs Brothers, a prestigious London
book dealer founded in 1853. In the course of a witty and affectionate tribute
to his long friendship with Samuels Lasner, Maggs detailed the tribulations of the
antiquarian book trade, but he also expressed optimism for the future. The
millennial generation, he said, is on a quest for authenticity, demonstrated in
their fondness for vinyl recordings and fixie bicycles. Their quest, he said,
extends to books, and he predicted that there would be Samuels Lasner-like collectors
yet to come.
Michael Robertson, The College of New Jersey