George Walden and Jules Barbey d'Aurevilly: essays on Dandyism

Reviewed by LINDA HERRICK

George Walden: Who is Dandy?

Jules Barbey d'Aurevilly: On Dandyism and George Brummell

What is a dandy? According to Walden, a former British Tory MP and regular Daily Telegraph writer, dandyism personified was a particular man at a particular time: George "Beau" Brummell, whose career as a Regency England social celebrity soared from 1794 until 1816.

In his singular way, Brummell was a man of supreme fashion but attitude, impertinence and irony were the foundations of his style. Referring to Barbey's treatise on Brummell, written in 1844 and reproduced here on the back of Walden's amusing and erudite essay, Walden muses that today the Beau would be "cool", entirely superior - in his own and many others' eyes - to everyone else, no matter their social standing.

Does this type of person seem familiar? Brummell, according to Barbey, possessed "a cold languor ... eyes glazed with indifference ... a concentrated irony ... sumptuous impertinence."

Yes, Beau Brummell sounds like the coolest rock star, a peculiarly modern performance in an era which was to quickly pass into the stodge and stifle of Victorian England. However, a vein of dandyism has re-emerged globally, argues Walden, but while many may try, few have the real calling.

First of all, the true dandy must be fanatical about his appearance but "clothes are merely the outward sign of an inward disposition". There must be wit and intelligence conveyed "by intonation, by a look, a gesture, even by silence". And there must never be a desire to please others, as the dandy's only obligation, and indeed object of affection, is himself.

Walden identifies Andy Warhol as a dandy because of the latter's "studious manufacture of a counter-cultural persona". The laconic posturings and materialism of Bret Easton Ellis' characters receive honourable mention, as does "the languid pop star Jarvis Cocker". But not David Beckham. Says Walden, "David Beckham enjoys dressing up, but this family man and team-player is too straightforward a fellow to be a dandy in the true sense. Nor is Elton John, whose addiction to dressing up is too extravagant."

Barbey's essay on Brummell is fascinating and remains fresh, the writer's interest in the fellow first sparked by a sighting in Caen, where the dandy had fled after losing all his money in gambling and profligacy. By now Brummell had become mad, his clothes in rags, his wig crooked and oily, his body filthy and malodorous. Yet there was something about his staggering attempts at dignity and hauteur which fascinated Barbey, who later learned of the man's death in an asylum.

Barbey's essay prefers to brush over such unpleasantness. Instead, it is an ode to dandyism as a positive force which briefly illuminated English society and gave lesser beings someone to admire and emulate (although of course they could never match Brummell's brilliance).

And Barbey brings to light a Brummell-ism par excellence. Having fallen out with his old friend the Prince Regent, who one day "cut" his friend in public, Beau turned to another and asked -loudly - "Who's your fat friend?"

As for our own dandies - do we have any in New Zealand? I suspect not, but that could be a study all of its own.

Gibson Square Books $44.95