Evelyn Waugh (1903-1966): A Revelation

Abstract

It is no longer necessary to be defensive about an enthusiasm for Evelyn Waugh. True, a certain resentment engendered by his over-fondness for the English aristocracy and the Roman Catholic Church lingers on; and sharp comments on his personal oddities continue to pursue him beyond the grave. But the accusations of snobbery, reactionary Toryism, and intransigeant Catholicism, so indefatigably launched against him in academic journals since the publication of Brideshead Revisited in 1945, tend now to be replaced by appreciative examination of his literary achievement.

To anyone acquainted with the general run of critical opinion on Waugh over the last twenty years it will come as a surprise to read that Frank Kermode, a vocal academic critic of Waugh's social and religious attitudes, has recently allowed A Handful of Dust to be 'one of the most distinguished novels of this century'. But similar estimates are becoming ever more common. Fellow novelists have always been ready to forgive Waugh for his eccentric opinions and have gratefully acknowledged his artistry: Malcolm Muggeridge's recent claim that Waugh 'is about the most accomolished writer in English in our time' is very widely echoed among his colleagues.