Book Discussion: The Wild Irish Girl

Sydney Owenson, aka Lady Morgan, refused to reveal her birthday. Yep, that's what got me started writing this post.

I decided to pick up The Wild Irish Girl by the aforementioned Sydney Owenson as my next book in my Classics Project in part because I am 90% sure I've read it before and liked it (and honestly I was looking for an "easier" classic to read due to the imminent arrival of The Floppy Alienette). First, I was definitely right about having read it before, specifically for my 19th century Irish Literature course in college. On the other hand, I was completely wrong about it being an easier classic as the language is pretty highfalutin - and ridiculously gorgeous. :) But I digress....

I am only 60 pages into the text, but I simply had to stop reading and gather some info on the author, something I very rarely have done in my life. For some reason, reading the first 60 pages got me wondering what sort of person, what sort of woman, would write an Irish nationalist tale from a English, male point of view. That's when I found out that Owenson's birth day is unknown because she kept it a secret (and a little part of me fell in love with that eccentricity).

Outside of her undisclosed birthday, Owenson is an intriguing character for other reasons as well: She published her first novel when she was 21, and it was successful enough to allow her to continue supporting herself and her family through her writing; The Wild Irish Girl was her second novel, and it was so successful she became a central part of the literary and social worlds of Dublin and London. It was in London, among the upper class, where she met her husband Charles Morgan, the physician for the Marquis who was Owenson's benefactor. I find it amusing that her popularity in London was due to a decidedly Irish nationalist tale, especially since the British Secret Police took a personal interest in her because of the themes present in her novels and actively spied on her and her husband. Of course, they were in fact allowing Irish liberals to meet in their home.

In typical governmental contradictory fashion, the British government not only put Owenson under surveillance, but they also awarded her a pension for her literary achievements and her "services to patriotism", making her the first woman to receive a governmental literary pension and probably the first woman - possibly person - to receive a British pension for Irish patriotism.

And to top it all off, she apparently cashed in on the popularity of her novel (and promoted it simultaneously) by donning traditional Gaelic dress and impersonating Glorvina (the Wild Irish Girl) at parties. Many Irish and English women began to "go native" and adopt parts of the dress and hair stylings of Glorvina as well in a sort of nineteenth century fandom. Love it.