Other editions of book The Green Carnation

Robert Smythe Hichens (1864-1950) was an English journalist and novelist. Born in Speldhurst in Kent, he was educated at Clifton College, the Royal College of Music, and the London School of Journalism. He wrote lyrics for music, stories, and collaborated in successful plays. He is best remembered now, perhaps, for his satire on Oscar Wilde, The Green Carnation (1894). His novels that were made into films are The Garden of Allah (1905) and The Paradine Case (1933). Amongst his other works are: Flames (1897), The Prophet of Berkeley Square (1902), The Woman with the Fan (1904), The Call of the Blood (1906), The Spell of Egypt (1908), A Spirit in Prison (1908), Bella Donna (1909), The Dweller on the Threshold (1911), The Way of Ambition (1913), In the Wilderness (1917) and December Love (1922).

An audacious, comic fantasy, satirizing the ways of society, and parodying the mannerisms of certain popular writers. Gay men in turn-of-the-century Paris wore green carnations in their buttonholes. On a visit to Egypt in the winter of 1893-1894 for his health, Hichens met Lord Alfred Douglas and was introduced by him to Oscar Wilde, who was already the most renowned author of his age. Hichens returned to England and wrote The Green Carnation---epigrammatic and keenly satirical in tone---as a parody of Wilde's style, with Douglas burlesqued as Reggie Hastings and Wilde portrayed as Esme Amarinth. The book was a huge success, and it launched Hichens' fiction-writing career. Robert Smythe Hichens (1864-1950) is also the author of The Garden of Allah. Although at the age of seventeen he wrote a novel which was actually published, he seems to have been most bent on a musical career; but he wearied of music and turned to journalism.

Excerpt from The Green CarnationLord Reginald Hastings, cried Mrs. Windsor's impressive butler, and Reggie entered the big drawing-room in Belgrave Square with the deli cate walk that had led certain Philistines to Christen him Agag. There were only two ladies present, and one tall and largely built man; with a closely shaved, clever face, and rather rippling brown hair.About the PublisherForgotten Books publishes hundreds of thousands of rare and classic books. Find more at www.forgottenbooks.comThis book is a reproduction of an important historical work. Forgotten Books uses state-of-the-art technology to digitally reconstruct the work, preserving the original format whilst repairing imperfections present in the aged copy. In rare cases, an imperfection in the original, such as a blemish or missing page, may be replicated in our edition. We do, however, repair the vast majority of imperfections successfully; any imperfections that remain are intentionally left to preserve the state of such historical works.

This is a pre-1923 historical reproduction that was curated for quality. Quality assurance was conducted on each of these books in an attempt to remove books with imperfections introduced by the digitization process. Though we have made best efforts - the books may have occasional errors that do not impede the reading experience. We believe this work is culturally important and have elected to bring the book back into print as part of our continuing commitment to the preservation of printed works worldwide. This text refers to the Bibliobazaar edition.

He slipped a green carnation into his evening coat, fixed it in its place with a pin, and looked at himself in the glass, the long glass that stood near the window of his London bedroom. The summer evening was so bright that he could see his double clearly, even though it was just upon seven o'clock. There he stood in his favourite and most characteristic attitude, with his left knee slightly bent, and his arms hanging at his sides, gazing, as a woman gazes at herself before she starts for a party. The low and continuous murmur of Piccadilly, like the murmur of a flowing tide on a smooth beach, stole to his ears monotonously, and inclined him insensibly to a certain thoughtfulness. Floating through the curtained window the soft lemon light sparkled on the silver backs of the brushes that lay on the toilet-table, on the dressing-gown of spun silk that hung from a hook behind the door, on the great mass of gloire de Dijon roses, that dreamed in an ivory-white bowl set on the writing-table of ruddy-brown wood. It caught the gilt of the boy's fair hair and turned it into brightest gold, until, despite the white weariness of his face, the pale fretfulness of his eyes, he looked like some angel in a church window designed by Burne-Jones, some angel a little blasé from the injudicious conduct of its life. He frankly admired himself as he watched his reflection, occasionally changing his pose, presenting himself to himself, now full face, now three-quarters face, leaning backward or forward, advancing one foot in its silk stocking and shining shoe, assuming a variety of interesting expressions. In his own opinion he was very beautiful, and he thought it right to appreciate his own qualities of mind and of body. He hated those fantastic creatures who are humble even in their self-communings, cowards who dare not acknowledge even to themselves how exquisite, how delicately fashioned they are. Quite frankly he told other people that he was very wonderful, quite frankly he avowed it to himself. There is a nobility in fearless truthfulness, is there not? and about the magic of his personality he could never be induced to tell a lie.

This is a pre-1923 historical reproduction that was curated for quality. Quality assurance was conducted on each of these books in an attempt to remove books with imperfections introduced by the digitization process. Though we have made best efforts - the books may have occasional errors that do not impede the reading experience. We believe this work is culturally important and have elected to bring the book back into print as part of our continuing commitment to the preservation of printed works worldwide.

Unlike some other reproductions of classic texts (1) We have not used OCR(Optical Character Recognition), as this leads to bad quality books with introduced typos. (2) In books where there are images such as portraits, maps, sketches etc We have endeavoured to keep the quality of these images, so they represent accurately the original artefact. Although occasionally there may be certain imperfections with these old texts, we feel they deserve to be made available for future generations to enjoy.