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<text id=89TT2391>
<title>
Sep. 11, 1989: The Cruelty Of Genius
</title>
<history>
TIME--The Weekly Newsmagazine--1989
Sep. 11, 1989 The Lonely War:Drugs
</history>
<article>
<source>Time Magazine</source>
<hdr>
BOOKS, Page 82
The Cruelty Of Genius
</hdr><body>
<p>By R.Z. Sheppard
</p>
<qt> <l>LORD BYRON'S DOCTOR</l>
<l>by Paul West</l>
<l>Doubleday; 277 pages; $19.95</l>
</qt>
<p> Doubleday assures editors and reviewers that Lord Byron's
Doctor is Paul West's "most accessible novel to date." What
does this suggest about the writer's previous work? That it is
less accessible, or even impenetrable? With a publisher like
that, who needs critics? Far better to have readers willing to
discover for themselves that, if anything, West, 59, is one of
the most vigorous and inviting literary talents still punching
away in semiobscurity. West wants to bowl over his audience and
usually does, in virtuoso performances like Alley Jaggers, Bela
Lugosi's White Christmas and The Very Rich Hours of Count von
Stauffenberg, the last a fictionalization of the failed 1944
plot by German officers to assassinate Hitler.
</p>
<p> The author's twelfth novel is an equally successful
imagining of a historical event, the 1816 European tour of
Romanticism's Rolling Stones, George Gordon (Lord Byron) and
Percy Bysshe Shelley. Their entourage had its own claim to
notoriety. Shelley's wife Mary was the daughter of the radical
philosopher William Godwin and Mary Wollstonecraft, author of
the basic feminist text Vindication of the Rights of Woman.
Mary, 18, would soon write Frankenstein. Her step-sister and an
intimate of both Byron's and Shelley's, Claire Clairmont, was
also part of the group, which swapped stories and much more at
a rented villa overlooking Switzerland's Lake Leman.
</p>
<p> Lesser known but indispensable to West's enterprise was
John William Polidori, a young physician traveling as the
club-footed Byron's secretary and medical adviser. He also had
a (pounds)500 commission from a London publisher to report on
the poet's adventures. Impatient for death's sting, Polidori was
25 when he drank a fatal concoction of opium, arsenic and
prussic acid in 1821. His journal was eventually published, but
not before his sister removed the naughty parts.
</p>
<p> West puts them back, or rather reconceives and embellishes
them in his fecund imagination. One of his accomplishments is
Polidori's "lyrical forensic way" of describing the crippled
Byron: "Lord B.'s habitual gait was more of a rapid, sliding
slither than anything, and I had noticed how quickly he entered
a room, almost at the run, as if simulating precipitate
eagerness . . . Out of doors he had none of the indolent lounge,
both languid and effete, of the fashionable flaneur, but rather
a lubricated-looking traipse, exactly what you would expect of
someone trying to walk on just the toes and balls of his feet."
</p>
<p> Through Polidori, West compiles a lurid case history on the
cruelty of genius. Shelley may have been "polite to God and
pious towards women," but Byron was arrogant about both. His
disdain toward lesser literary figures was godlike, and his
venery demonic. "The sexes were all one to him," notes Polidori,
"the main thing being to spend and thus clear the mind for
matters more important: the next canto, the new play."
</p>
<p> Romanticism and egoism normally go hand in hand. Here they
are passionately entwined. Rocking and rolling in Byron's
carriage, sailing through storms, discussing the uses of opium
or exchanging ghost stories at the Villa Diodati, the group is
principally concerned with who will be favored by the muse. Even
Polidori is bitten by the literary bug or, in his case, bat. His
story The Vampyre is inspired by an idea of Byron's, thus
suggesting that His Lordship has power to damn with a pathetic
immortality.
</p>
<p> West concludes that Polidori killed himself because of
disappointment: to be an artist was to be fully alive, but not
to make the grade was a living death. His friend Mary Shelley
succeeded with Frankenstein. Subtitled "The Modern Prometheus,"
the gothic classic comes alive by galvanizing the divine and the
tragic in human nature. In its own way so does West's tour de
force -- a grand tour sparked by an irresistible force.
</p>
</body></article>
</text>