Katherine Byrne. Tuberculosis and the Victorian Literary Imagination. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2011. ISBN: 978-0-521-76667-8. Price: US$90.00/£55.00

Byrne’s study fills a surprising gap in the scholarship on culture and disease in the Victorian period. Consumption is so prevalent in the literature, it seems that there should be a vast body of work on the disease in British literature, but there has been no up-to-date, book-length study on nineteenth-century literature after the Romantic period—until now. Byrne at last gives representations of this illness the sustained attention they deserve in a well-written and thoughtful account extending from Charles Dickens to Henry James. Byrne shows the relationship between medical writings and artistic works to be complex and mutually informing. Medical writers, she demonstrates, were concerned with advancing the latest medical knowledge about the disease, but also with reinforcing their own authority as scientists and sometimes as individual vendors of medical services. Their writings used, created, and reinforced certain cultural beliefs about those vulnerable to the disease: those possessing a particular kind of physiognomy (usually ethereal), engaging in certain kinds of behaviors (usually intemperate), or perceived to have precocious mental, moral, or spiritual qualities. As we see in the chapters devoted to literary and artistic works, however, these qualities varied considerably depending on the class and gender attributes of the patient involved. Byrne is particularly insightful about the gendered attributes of consumption. Medical writers suggested that women brought on consumption by their own vain or intemperate behaviors, such as tight lacing or insisting on going out décolleté at night. Whereas the elite manifestation of the disease emerged from within the individual body, revealing the luxurious over-indulgence and decadence associated with the aristocracy, as a disease of poverty it was thought to be more aligned with infectiousness. And yet, at the same time, the consumptive middle-class woman was idealized both aesthetically and morally. Byrne engages the scholarship on anorexia and invalidism, to show not only how these categories and behaviors controlled women, but also the kinds of control that could be exerted in turn by the consumptive. Reading through Mary Ward’s Eleanor (1900), she shows the excessive passion associated with the tubercular middle-class woman, as well as the ways in which her disease both licensed her behavior and cleansed it of the taint of impropriety. In her study of the aesthetics associated with the tubercular female, Byrne examines the Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood’s and especially Dante Gabriel Rossetti’s promotion of that aesthetic in the person of Elizabeth Siddal. She reads the artists’ representations of their real-life invalid model against George du Maurier’s literary treatment of Trilby’s decline. Transitioning toward the less-studied topic of consumptive masculinity, Byrne’s reading of Dracula as a vector of tubercular contagion is persuasive and new. Finally, in a discussion of James’s Portrait of a Lady (1880-81), Byrne focuses on Ralph’s effeminization by his advanced pulmonary disease: her reading of the fin-de-siècle consumptive man as both vampirically enabled and socially neutered by his relationship with capitalism is provocative and insightful. A satisfying epilogue takes the reader into the twentieth century, and Byrne, at last free from the self-imposed limit to English language publications that she declares in the Introduction, offers a quick reading of Thomas Mann’s Magic Mountain (1924) in the broader context of the sanatorium novel subgenre that resonates intriguingly with her earlier analysis of masculinity. The weaknesses in the book—and all books have them—are not significant, in the main. One might wish Byrne would branch out a bit earlier into the literatures and medical writings of Germany or France, but understandably, she chooses some arbitrary limits to keep a vast archive manageable. The argument is generally persuasive and even the weakest of the chapters, focusing on Dombey and Son …