Little People's Diary -- Cultural and Literary Translation Series

Author: {English} George Grossmith
Publisher:
Publication Date: 2005-03-01
Features: Charles Pooter is a small office clerk, diligent and conscientious, yet content: he has a new home in the suburbs; his boss treats him well; his wife is deeply in love with him; and he has two "not-so-good" neighborhood friends. With his ambitions fulfilled, old Pooter begins to keep a diary, naturally filled with trivial matters, the daily grind—nothing new under the sun. Occasionally, he gets the chance to attend gatherings of the upper class, where he makes a fool of himself, but he doesn’t mind. His goal in life is to become a decent gentleman, and of course, he did achieve it—his efforts were not in vain. The Diary of Nobody (1891), attributed to the diary of clerk Charles Pooter, is in fact a fictional work by George Grossmith (1848–1912) and his brother Weedon Grossmith (1852–1919). The latter also illustrated the book with vivid and humorous drawings. It was first serialized in the humorous magazine Punch before being published as a book. Over a century after its release, Pooter’s name has entered everyday English, referring to a certain type of conservative middle-class person living in the suburbs, and has even given rise to the word "Pooterish." Although it holds little prominent place in the canon of literary history, it remains popular and widely enjoyed, with its influence still felt today. Entries related to it can be found in The Encyclop?dia Britannica and the recently published Oxford English Dictionary of American and British Culture. Our renowned scholar Qian Zhongshu was also deeply fond of this book. In the recently published Collected Manuscripts of Qian Zhongshu, there is a passage related to it. It is found in the first volume, "Rong’an Hall Notes," under item 192. It reads: "In the summer of 1936, I traveled to Paris, and my luggage did not include any English novels. By chance, I came across The Diary of Nobody in an old bookstore (here the original character '' was crossed out) and decided to buy it to read. I was amazed by its brilliance, and so was Jiang Ying, who also shared my admiration. In 1940, the book was included in Everyman’s Library, and V. S. Pritchett wrote a glowing review of it (In My Good Books, pp. 87ff), making it known to a wider audience. [John Betjeman mentioned that T. S. Eliot also enjoyed this book (T. S. Eliot: A Symposium, compiled by R. March & Tambimuttu, p. 92).] Recently, a young woman borrowed it to read, and as I reread it, I was even more amazed at the ingenuity of its imagination, realizing that no real-life situation could escape its scope." This note is half a recollection of buying and reading the book, and half a reflection and critique. When discussing Eliot’s "liking of this book" and certain similarities to The Goncourt Journals, the sources and page numbers of the relevant citations are clearly noted. From this, we learn that Qian’s family had an extraordinary fondness for this little-known book, calling it a "masterpiece." The protagonist, Mr. Pooter, has served faithfully in a London company for many years and, at the age of fifty, moves into a small house in a good suburban area with six rooms and a morning room ("not to mention the basement"). Although it is an old house and located near a railway, he and his "dear wife, Carrie," are already content. For old Pooter, this move marks a new beginning in life, and he begins to keep a journal, recording the trivialities of daily household life. The Diary of Nobody tells the story of a decent man, Pooter, and his happy life. The petty details of a small-town household resonate with many readers. Compared to Zhang Daming, a poor Chinese worker, the life of old Pooter, an upper-middle-class Britisher in the Victorian era, is far more materially comfortable. However, his snobbish desire to climb the social ladder only highlights the constraints, dimness, and awkwardness of his life. The sharp yet fitting satire of Mr. Pooter is distinctly British, largely reflecting the self-reflection and self-mockery of a certain social group. This kind of depth seems relatively rare in the diverse Chinese literary landscape today. According to the internet, The Diary of Nobody is still in print, with new copies priced at twenty dollars. Readers, standing with the author on a higher vantage point to observe the antics of Pooter and his ilk, take pleasure in feeling superior to them, yet they can’t help but recognize their own shadows in them, which is both unsettling and amusing. They derive great entertainment and, in the process, receive subtle lessons—generation after generation, it never gets old.