Several weeks ago, the Peeps’ own strawbale entertained us with a diary themed with the poetry of Elizabeth Barrett Browning. During the discussion, it came to light that Elizabeth’s companion dog Flush, a loyal little spaniel, inspired a loving tribute in the form of a long poem. In actual fact, little Flush inspired two poems: To Flush, My Dog and Flush, or Faunus. Both were composed during the years that the frail Elizabeth was confined to her bed at the Barrett home at the now evocative address of Wimpole Street in London.
But intriguingly, the spaniel Flush was also the subject of a biography by none other than Virginia Woolf. Of course, I immediately went to my public library (the on-line catalogue actually, ain’t technology grand?), searched for the book, and ordered it up from library loan.
Virginia Woolf first toyed with the idea of writing a biography of Flush after reading the Brownings’ letters. Originally it was to be the love story of the two poets as told through the eyes of a dog. And, indeed, it was a love story of sorts, but it became entirely Flush’s. Woolf acknowledged that information about the actual Flush was sparse. There are Miss Barrett’s two poems, and there are descriptions of Flush’s escapades in her letters. Woolf would have to invent Flush.
So who actually is the Flush of Virginia’s biographical novel, Flush, A Dog?
In 1926, Virginia and Leonard had been gifted a Cocker Spaniel puppy by Vita Sackville-West. The pup was dubbed Pinka. Virginia’s daily observations of Pinka became, in actuality, the fictionalized Flush. The Woolfs had other dogs throughout their marriage, often more than one at a time. But it was only Pinka who inspired a book.
We interrupt our story for a brief word from our sponsor along with the basic rules: This an open thread for animal lovers and anyone else who needs a smile, a lift after a hard day, or just to touch base with the community. The PWB Peeps diaries provide a respite from the news, so no pie fights from the outer blog allowed. Cats are pooties and dogs are woozles. Birdzees and other critters wild or domestic are always welcome. Post animal photos (no snakes or creepy crawlies, please, as some folks have phobias), share pet tales or tails, ask questions, discuss anything and everything, and be kind to one another. : )
P. S. Just a reminder of the new PWB Peeps guidelines: A Commmunity Lynx header is always welcome in comments here, however it is now a place limited to links not full lists. I encourage you to post links to the full Community Needs List, to Community Fundraisers for PWB Peeps, or to any DK diary that is supportive of PWB Peeps members. Links to other DK diaries or to outside sources that you believe will be of interest to pet owners and the PWB Peeps members generally are also welcome. Lists of financial needs or individual pleas for financial support are no longer allowed in the comments.
Now, on to walkies the blog!
You’ll call this sentimental—perhaps—but then a dog somehow represents the private side of life, the play side. –
Indeed, it seems to have been love at first sight. When the puppy Pinka arrived, she chewed holes in Virginia’s skirts and destroyed Leonard’s proofs, nevertheless the smitten Virginia writes:
… but she is an angel of light. Leonard says seriously that she makes him believe in God … and this after she has wetted his floor 8 times a day.”
Virginia enjoyed dogs immensely. She was raised with robust country dogs, relished their company on rambles, chuckled over their antics, forgave miscreant behavior. She accepted their affection but, as in most of her relationships, Virginia remained somewhat aloof. This made her attachment to Pinka all the more remarkable.
Leonard, it seems, was the real animal lover in the family. Leonard was emotionally attached to all his pets. He spoiled the dogs and surrounded himself with many, beginning with his days just out of university as a civil servant in Ceylon. While Virginia seemed to favor spaniels, Leonard was ecumenical. He was beset by grief when he lost any, especially favorites like his later cat Troy. Nevertheless, when the couple unexpected lost the beloved Pinka at the age of nine, the intensity of her feelings of loss surprised Virginia, who expressed her fear of becoming overly sentimental. Or perhaps of being perceived as overly sentimental. Leonard felt no such fears.
But Pinka lived on through the biographical novel of Flush. The story was begun in earnest in the late summer of 1931, described by Woolf as “a escapade” that was undertaken “half seriously to ease my brain” after the intensity of producing The Wave. It was meant to be a whimsy, a relief from serious work. But Flush took on a life of its own. VIrginia cast her mind back to Pinka’s puppyhood and using her acute visual memory and keen observation, without sentimentality drew a portrait of an energetic yet sensitive spaniel whose life becomes circumscribed when he becomes companion to the bedridden poet.
We observe Flush as he navigates the realities of life, from carefree puppy in rural hamlet to young companion dog to an invalided and finally to old age in Florence. He must learn to become a city dog, leaving behind runs in pastures for the confines of a single shrouded bedchamber and daily walks on a leash. There are inevitable misunderstandings and miscommunications between the two new friends. Soon, mistress and little spaniel are inseparable.
The facts of Flush’s life come from Barrett. But Woolf’s shrewd observations of dog behavior makes him a living breathing character. We see Flush’s world through shin-high sights, urban sounds, and the tantalizing array of kitchen and street scents. We ache with the fiercely loyal Flush as he struggles with jealousy. Who is this suspicious newcomer who suddenly takes so much of his mistress’ time and attention? And so Flush must learn to share his beloved. Woolf embeds some passing commentary on privilege, poverty, class (in the rarefied air of exclusive Wimpole Street, it doesn’t take Flush long to becomes aware of his status as a purebred dog), and the domination of fathers over daughters. But Flush remains always a dog and the book always from his point of view.
There are more adventures, but you’ll have to read the book for yourself.
The blog is now open.