The Narrative of a Journey
HOLMAN, James, R.N. & K.W.
London: F.C.and J. Rivington. 1822.
Description:
First edition. 8vo. 225x140mm. pp. xi [ibl], 356, errata leaf tipped in. Uncut in the original boards with paper label to spine. Leaves X7 and 8 unopened. Spine somewhat worn with some of the paper missing, corners rubbed and worn and some marks on the boards. Internally very good and overall a nice unsophisticated copy of a book rare in commerce, three copies appearing at auction in the last fifty years (one of which was William Beckford's annotated copy which gives an indication of Holman's fame during his life).
James Holman was a phenomenon and something of celebrity in his day. At twenty-five he was forced to retire from his naval career when struck by an illness that left him blind. Determined to continue his active life and retain some degree of normality, he decided that he would travel the world. He began with this three year European Grand Tour the account of which ran to five editions in the next twelve years. In the year of its first publication (1822), he embarked on his extraordinary journey round the world - a challenging prospect then even without a visual disability.
He wrote his books by dictating them to a secretary or with the help of a writing machine, the Nocto via Polygraph (also called a Noctograph), invented by Ralph Wedgwood (a cousin of Josiah) which is shown in the frontispiece portrait of Holman. He writes with great charm, vividness and a nice lacing of sharp opinion. He would have been a splendid travelling companion.
It is striking how little Holman makes of his blindness in The Narrative of a Journey. He makes a brief reference on the first page to "my personal defects" and elsewhere he hints at his blindness when describing how he has to trace the contour of a sculpture, but that is about it. He also never mentions other illnesses which incapacitated him for long sections of his journey.
Holman's reluctance to dwell on his blindness was, in part, due to the (shockingly unkind) criticism that a blind man could not fully experience overseas travel. But it was also a stoical acknowledgement that his disability would not interfere with his pleasure and that his experience as a blind traveller was as valid and fulfilling as that of a sighted person. Hard to disagree.
Description:
First edition. 8vo. 225x140mm. pp. xi [ibl], 356, errata leaf tipped in. Uncut in the original boards with paper label to spine. Leaves X7 and 8 unopened. Spine somewhat worn with some of the paper missing, corners rubbed and worn and some marks on the boards. Internally very good and overall a nice unsophisticated copy of a book rare in commerce, three copies appearing at auction in the last fifty years (one of which was William Beckford's annotated copy which gives an indication of Holman's fame during his life).
James Holman was a phenomenon and something of celebrity in his day. At twenty-five he was forced to retire from his naval career when struck by an illness that left him blind. Determined to continue his active life and retain some degree of normality, he decided that he would travel the world. He began with this three year European Grand Tour the account of which ran to five editions in the next twelve years. In the year of its first publication (1822), he embarked on his extraordinary journey round the world - a challenging prospect then even without a visual disability.
He wrote his books by dictating them to a secretary or with the help of a writing machine, the Nocto via Polygraph (also called a Noctograph), invented by Ralph Wedgwood (a cousin of Josiah) which is shown in the frontispiece portrait of Holman. He writes with great charm, vividness and a nice lacing of sharp opinion. He would have been a splendid travelling companion.
It is striking how little Holman makes of his blindness in The Narrative of a Journey. He makes a brief reference on the first page to "my personal defects" and elsewhere he hints at his blindness when describing how he has to trace the contour of a sculpture, but that is about it. He also never mentions other illnesses which incapacitated him for long sections of his journey.
Holman's reluctance to dwell on his blindness was, in part, due to the (shockingly unkind) criticism that a blind man could not fully experience overseas travel. But it was also a stoical acknowledgement that his disability would not interfere with his pleasure and that his experience as a blind traveller was as valid and fulfilling as that of a sighted person. Hard to disagree.