The Strachey Method

So, I am reading a delightful book 'on the side' so to speak. In between other books - you know the kind. It's called EMINENT VICTORIANS.

The author is one Lytton Strachey, who is deliciously eccentric and highly perceptive in his observations of what "makes humans tick" - foibles and all. One wouldn't think that was such a rare thing, but often in the recent Victorian era it was unheard of that an EMINENT Victorian would be described in any other way than worshipful - at least in public. In many a biography, unfortunate character traits were swept neatly under those oriental rugs and the man or woman seemed hewn from a pure, descriptive marble that adoring hearts might worship and admire. Yet, one might conjecture as he dutifully read and worshiped that, in truth, might this just be a ...... false god? Eminent, undoubtedly, but too good to be true for the likes of fallen human nature? Lytton Strachey asked those very questions - to great result, I think.

Strachey was one of the first biographers of his time to write about the whole man or woman. To ask: what makes this person tick? why does he do the things he does? what are his foibles? how does he deal with them? It was a new take on the old biography. A kind of psychological study as opposed to a historical narrative of deeds. Strachey was an original at it. And many of the upper crust of his time were not pleased in the least with his cheekiness. Leave sleeping faults lie was the philosophy.

I don't find him at all offensive in his descriptions. He points out foibles with great, witty understatement that is most satisfyingly tongue in cheek, but he also speaks of the good deeds and the finer traits of the person with honest admiration. It makes for a wonderful read.

And it starts you thinking. Isn't it best to know a man for who he truly is: both in foible and finery? Don't we learn from such a biography to understand ourselves and to have the courage to address our own foibles, great or small, to become better men and women thereby? Or of equal importance, to have more patience with the less than finer traits of our fellows. I think that is the duty of biographies. To lead us to our better selves.

It certainly has worked for me in a very salutary way. For his first subject in this book is the eminent English Cardinal. Henry Manning. Cardinal Manning, it turns out, is the kind of person who terrifies me with his utter self confidence. I call his kind the Choleric Bulldozer. Handsome, strong, physically striking, astute, intelligent, able to read people and take full advantage of that knowledge. Never afraid to get up and give rousing speeches that move masses, but very clever at making side deals with influential and useful people to the downfall of some unfortunate victim. They despise indecision, weakness, and dreamy people. They can read a room and command it in the space of five minutes.

The Choleric Bulldozer sniffs out opportunity to rule, to be in charge. One might say they live to be in charge. And they will run rough shod on anyone who gets in their way. They will crush the already laid plans of others like so many flowers underneath the heavy tread of their own ideas and not see anything amiss. They make the introvert/phlegmatics stare holes in the carpet whispering in desperation: "don't pick me. don't pick me". They make sanguines explode in frustration and then run weeping from the room. They make the melancholics even more melancholic.

And they take all this turmoil in pleasant stride as the cost of efficiency and running a well oiled machine. And the ironic truth is: they are so darned good at it. And this was the personality of the eminent Cardinal Manning.

He felt destined for greatness from early on. He was the son of a wealthy West India merchant, a governor of the bank of England, and member of Parliament - who would accept no less than a Bishop for the baptisms of his children. Manning lived in this atmosphere and hatched plans of one day making his own way to the upper regions of Parliament as he walked to halls of Oxford. Henry Manning had plans. Oddly, his father wanted him to have a career in the Church. Manning was dismissive of the entire idea. He was meant for speeches, for decisions of the highest order, for command. The Church? pooh. But then the unthinkable happened. His father was declared a bankrupt and fell into ruin. Henry's plans were dashed. It was his first taste of humility, and to his credit he took it well. He became in the end a vicar in a small Church and ran it well. He also squarely faced himself.

And this is where I learned a few things - that dashed my preconceived notions of cholerics. Manning had absolute self knowledge that he deeply and selfishly desired to RULE - to be at the TOP of every game. This knowledge tortured him. In his journals he wrote honestly and painstakingly about his motives and his temptations to be the best - to fight anyone who got in his way. These were his demons and they did their work on him all his life. He had to suffer through the knowledge that he DID have eminent qualities of leadership - but that at any minute they would turn him into a despot. He felt called by God to lead, but oh, did he so desire it in the worst way.

That, I was surprised to discover, was the terrible fate of the choleric. To be called to lead and not to let that leadership overcome his better self. What a cross to carry! I - did I suddenly feel sorry for the Choleric Bulldozer? I think I did. I had actual sympathy for their struggle in the faith. How hard it must be for them to be who they are before God and to serve Him for the right motives.

He went on to climb to the very top of his Anglican game before he was called to become a Catholic by God. And in that Church he also rose to eminence and became the Bishop of Westminster - the highest Church office in the land. He made mistakes. He made alliances. He made enemies. He ran crushingly roughshod over poor John Henry Newman with a cold calculated competitive envy that was a frightening and discouraging cross for the gentle and poetic saint to bear. I had a hard time forgiving him for that.

But it IS evident that Manning tried very hard sometimes to rein in his forceful personality. And felt guilty about it all the time - struggling on with his prideful demons until the end.

His people liked him. He was a great organizer. He treated them with a hard learned gentleness through grace. He learned to forgive and to ask forgiveness. He was a complete success as a leader and yet was constantly tortured by his pride much like the thorn in his side that St. Paul speaks of - and God did not take away.

Through Strachy's realistic and honest assessment of Cardinal Manning, I have come to understand cholerics a little better and the real crosses they carry which will never be my fate. If he had written only about the Cardinal's successes and greatness, I would have never grown to this understanding that makes me want to be a more patient human being even with my great nemesis - the Choleric Bulldozer.

Well done, Mr. Strachey. I thank you.

And now I turn the page to the next chapter - the eminent Florence Nightingale….who also is more than meets the Victorian eye. I’ll keep you posted.