Notes on the Royal Academy Exhibition, 1868 — Story, Setting & Ideas

Rossetti's Defensive Preface and Catalog Method

Rossetti opens with a sustained justification of his enterprise. He acknowledges the 'imputation of presumption' that attaches to anyone who 'undertakes to express to the public his opinion of any such Exhibition,' but he counters two specific forms of censure. First, he argues that a signed pamphlet is no more presumptuous than an unsigned newspaper review—indeed, it is 'more open, more equitable, and more bold' because it exposes the writer to retorts. Second, he rejects criticism for omissions, noting that the pamphlet's 'limits, as to dimensions and as to the time and facilities available, are manifestly narrow.' Having cleared this ground, his text becomes a list: a sequence of numbered entries pairing artist and title, such as 'Frith — Scene from “She Stoops to Conquer”' or 'Armitage — Herod’s Birthday Feast.' There is no evaluative commentary; the selection itself implies judgment. This method foregrounds the act of choosing which works to mention rather than elaborating on their merits.

Swinburne's Lyrical Response to Watts and Greek Ideals

Swinburne's contribution is brief but concentrated. He records that 'returning from the Academy I find two pictures impressed on my memory more deeply and distinctly than the rest,' and he devotes his attention to the first: Watts's 'Wife of Pygmalion.' His description dwells on the interplay of sculpture and painting: 'The soft severity of perfect beauty might serve alike for woman or statue, flesh or marble.' He imagines the statue's eyes 'opened already upon love, with a tender and grave wonder,' and her hair 'warm from the touch and the breath of the goddess.' Swinburne explicitly calls the picture a 'translation' of a Greek statue into an English picture, and he invokes the 'supreme Venus of Melos' as a touchstone. His language is sensuous and precise, treating the painting as a fusion of arts—'painting and sculpture may become as sister arts indeed, yet without invasion or confusion.' This passage exemplifies Swinburne's critical method: intense, subjective response grounded in classical reference.

Divergent Critical Temperaments in a Single Pamphlet

The pamphlet's structure dramatizes a split within Pre-Raphaelite criticism. Rossetti's portion is defensive, procedural, and enumerative; he justifies his role as a critic before performing it through selection. Swinburne, by contrast, begins by disclaiming judgment—'To pass judgment or tender counsel is beyond my aim or my desire'—then proceeds to judge with fervor. Rossetti's list of works includes many now-obscure names (e.g., 'Calthrop — The Last Song of the Girondins,' 'Lobley — Fancies in the Fire'), while Swinburne singles out a single painting for extended analysis. The prefatory note acknowledges that 'if the opinions happen to diverge, it will be for the reader to select, as he pleases, either or neither.' This framing turns the pamphlet into a dialogue—or a debate—about the proper voice of art criticism. The reader is left to weigh Rossetti's systematic coverage against Swinburne's passionate focus.

Readers approaching this pamphlet should attend to its dual authorship as a feature, not a flaw. The contrast between Rossetti's defensive catalog and Swinburne's rhapsodic ekphrasis illuminates the range of Victorian critical practice. Neither writer claims completeness; both acknowledge the pamphlet's narrow scope. The work is best read as a document of two critics thinking aloud about the relationship between art and language, each in his own idiom. The appended list of exhibited works, though seemingly dry, rewards attention for what it includes and omits.

I came across that old Pre-Raphaelite pamphlet again, where Rossetti and Swinburne trade their separate ways of seeing the same exhibition. It made me think of Mountain Meditations, and some subjects of the day and the war — A Reader’s Guide. Both carry that feeling of a singular mind settling its own weather, be it over a painting or a peak. Quiet company, those pages.