Ivory, Apes and Peacocks — A Reader’s Guide
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Walt looked like a Greek rhapsodist. Tall, imposing in bulk, his regular features, mild, light-blue or grey eyes, clear ruddy skin, plentiful white hair and beard, evoked an image of the magnificently fierce old men he chants in his book. But he wasn't fierce, his voice was a tenor of agreeable timbre, and he was gentle, even to womanliness. Indeed, he was like a receptive, lovable old woman, the kind he celebrates so often. He never smoked, his only drink was water. I doubt if he ever drank spirits. His old friends say "No," although he is a terrible rake in print. Without suggesting effeminacy, he gave me the impression of a feminine soul in a masculine envelope. When President Lincoln first saw him he said: "Well, he _looks_ like a man!" Perhaps Lincoln knew, for his remark has other connotations than the speech of Napoleon when he met Goethe: "Voila un homme!" Hasn't Whitman asked in Calamus, the most revealing section of Leaves: "Do you suppose yourself advancing on real ground toward a real heroic man?" He also wrote of Calamus: "Here the frailest leaves of me.... Here I shade down and hide my thoughts. I do not express them. And yet they expose me more than all my other poems." Mr. Harlan, Secretary of the Interior, when he dismissed Walt from his department because of Leaves, did not know about the Calamus section--I believe they were not incorporated till later--but Washington was acquainted with Walt and his idiosyncrasies, and, despite W. D. Connor's spirited vindication, certain rumours would not be stifled. Walt was thirty-six when Leaves appeared; forty-one when Calamus was written.
James Huneker's Ivory, Apes and Peacocks opens with an essay on Joseph Conrad that immediately establishes a pattern of movement between media: Conrad is described as a 'painter doubled by a psychologist,' and his prose is praised for its 'rhythmic, sonorous, coloured' quality. This cross-sensory language recurs throughout the collection, as Huneker shifts from literary criticism to musicology to art commentary, often within a single paragraph. The book's structure mirrors its title's biblical allusion—a catalogue of exotic imports—by assembling portraits of figures as disparate as Walt Whitman, Jules Laforgue, and Richard Strauss, linked not by chronology but by Huneker's associative logic.
The Sea as a Recurring Motif
In the opening essay, Huneker presents Conrad's work as a 'sea-shell which pressed to the ear echoes the far-away murmur of the sea.' This image of the sea as a container of sound and memory reappears in later essays, though often transformed. When describing Stuttgart in the Strauss chapter, Huneker contrasts the oppressive, bowl-shaped valley with the memory of 'summer-sunlit Holland and its wide plains punctuated only by church spires and windmills.' The sea becomes a symbol of escape and artistic freedom, set against the claustrophobia of provincial life. Huneker's own prose mimics this ebb and flow: long, rhythmic sentences describing Conrad's genius give way to sharp, observational details about train stations and royal processions.
Movement Between High and Low
Huneker's essays frequently juxtapose elevated artistic commentary with mundane, almost journalistic observations. In the Stuttgart chapter, he moves from discussing Richard Strauss's music to describing the king's arrival at the station, the crowd's behavior, and the price of restaurant meals. This structural choice reflects his belief that art is inseparable from the circumstances of its production. The essay on Walt Whitman likely follows a similar pattern, though the excerpt only hints at it. Huneker's voice shifts between the rhapsodic—'the rich, salty tang of an Elizabethan adventurer'—and the sardonic: 'Curiosity is perhaps the prime root of patriotism.' This tonal mobility keeps the reader alert to unexpected connections.
The Gallery of Portraits as a Unified Work
Though the book collects essays on separate figures, Huneker creates continuity through recurring themes: the tension between tradition and innovation, the role of the artist in society, and the limits of critical language. The essay on Joseph Conrad praises him as a 'pure and disinterested artist' amid the 'clamour of the market-place,' a stance that echoes through later pieces on Schoenberg, Moussorgsky, and the Italian Futurists. The title itself—borrowed from the biblical account of Solomon's trade—suggests that these artists are exotic imports, valuable but potentially decadent. Huneker's critical method is itself a form of collecting, arranging his subjects like objects in a cabinet of curiosities.
The Role of the Observer
Huneker frequently inserts himself into the scene, as when he describes watching the king's arrival in Stuttgart or recalling a carriage accident with Emperor Franz Josef. These first-person passages ground the criticism in lived experience, but they also reveal the limits of his perspective. He admits to being a foreigner, a 'stare-cat' himself, and his observations are often tinged with irony. This self-awareness prevents the essays from becoming mere pronouncements; instead, they read as conversations between a knowledgeable but fallible guide and his reader. The effect is to make the reader complicit in the act of judgment, aware that every critical portrait is also a self-portrait.
Readers approaching Ivory, Apes and Peacocks should expect not a systematic treatise but a series of vivid, opinionated encounters. Huneker's associative method rewards those who follow his leaps from music to painting to literature without demanding expertise in any single field. The book is best read as a performance of critical intelligence, where the connections between subjects matter as much as the subjects themselves.
Some afternoons, Huneker’s essays drift like tidewater—Conrad bleeding into Cézanne, music threading through paint—and I recall how his restless, associative mind once felt almost tender toward women’s inner lives. That gentleness surfaces again in a quieter volume I keep returning to, its observations unhurried as a letter kept in a drawer. It lingers beside him, unsaid. Her Royal Highness Woman — Context and Discussion feels like a shared, half-finished thought.
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