A Great Man (1904), which Bennett subtitled "A Frolic," gives his humorous talent full rein. The novel is a hilarious character study of Henry Shakespeare Knight from his humble beginnings to his assent to the pinnacle of fame as a popular writer.
On an evening in 1866 (exactly eight hundred years after the Battle of Hastings) Mr. Henry Knight, a draper's manager, aged forty, dark, clean-shaven, short, but not stout, sat in his sitting-room on the second-floor over the shop which he managed in Oxford Street, London. He was proud of that sitting-room, which represented the achievement of an ideal, and he had a right to be proud of it. The rich green wall-paper covered with peonies in full bloom (poisoning by arsenical wall-paper had not yet been invented, or Mr.
Knight's peonies would certainly have had to flourish over a different hue) matched the magenta table-cloth of the table at which Mr. Knight was writing, and the magenta table-cloth matched the yellow roses which grew to more than exhibition size on the Axminster carpet; and the fine elaborate effect thus produced was in no way impaired, but rather enhanced and invigorated, by the mahogany bookcase full of imperishable printed matter, the horsehair sofa netted in a system of antimacassars, the waxen flowers in their glassy domes on the marble mantelpiece, the Canterbury with its spiral columns, the rosewood harmonium, and the posse of chintz-protected chairs. Mr. Knight, who was a sincere and upright man, saw beauty in this apartment. It uplifted his soul, like soft music in the gloaming, or a woman's face.
Mr. Knight was writing in a large book. He paused in the act of composition, and, putting the pen between his teeth, glanced through the pages of the volume. They were filled with the drafts of letters which he had addressed during the previous seven years to the editors of various newspapers, including the Times, and several other organs great then but now extinct. In a space underneath each letter had been neatly gummed the printed copy, but here and there a letter lacked this certificate of success, for Mr. Knight did not always contrive to reach his public. The letters were signed with pseudonyms, such as A British Citizen, Fiat Justitia, Audi Alteram Partem, Indignant, Disgusted, One Who Knows, One Who Would Like to Know, Ratepayer, Taxpayer, Puzzled, and Pro Bono Publico-especially Pro Bono Publico. Two letters, to a trade periodical, were signed A Draper's Manager of Ten Years' Standing, and one, to the Clerkenwell News, bore his own real name.
The letter upon which he was now engaged was numbered seventy-five in the series, and made its appeal to the editor of the Standard. Having found inspiration, Mr. Knight proceeded, in a hand distinguished by many fine flourishes:
' ... It is true that last year we only paid off some four millions, but the year before we paid, I am thankful to say, more than nine millions. Why, then, this outcry against the allocation of somewhat less than nine millions out of our vast national revenue towards the further extinction of the National Debt? It is not the duty of the State, as well as of the individual, to pay its debts? In order to support the argument with which I began this communication, perhaps you will permit me, sir, to briefly outline the history of the National Debt, our national shame. In 1688 the National Debt was little more than six hundred thousand pounds....'
After briefly outlining the history of the National Debt, Mr. Knight began a new paragraph thus:
'In the immortal words of Shakspere, wh--'
But at this point he was interrupted. A young and pleasant woman in a white apron pushed open the door.
'Henry,' she called from the doorway.
'Well?'
'You'd better go now.'
'Very well, Annie; I'll go instantly.'
He dropped the pen, reduced the gas to a speck of blue, and in half a minute was hurrying along Oxford Street. The hour was ten o'clock, and the month was July; the evening favoured romance. He turned into Bury Street, and knocked like fate at a front-door with a brass tablet on it, No. 8 of the street.
'No, sir. He isn't in at the moment, sir,' said the maid who answered Mr. Knight's imperious summons.
'Not in!' exclaimed Mr. Knight.
'No, sir. He was called away half an hour ago or hardly, and may be out till very late.'
'Called away!' exclaimed Mr. Knight. He was astounded, shocked, pained. 'But I warned him three months ago!'
'Did you, sir? Is it anything very urgent, sir?'
'It's--' Mr. Knight hesitated, blushing. The girl looked so young and innocent.
'Because if it is, master left word that anyone was to go to Dr. Christopher's, 22, Argyll Street.'
'You will be sure to tell your master that I came,' said Mr. Knight frigidly, departing.
At 22, Argyll Street he was informed that Dr. Christopher had likewise been called away, and had left a recommendation that urgent cases, if any, should apply to Dr. Quain Short, 15, Bury Street. His anger was naturally increased by the absence of this second doctor, but it was far more increased by the fact that Dr. Quain Short happened to live in Bury Street. At that moment the enigma of the universe was wrapped up for him in the question, Why should he have been compelled to walk all the way from Bury Street to Argyll Street merely in order to walk all the way back again? And he became a trinity consisting of Disgusted, Indignant, and One Who Would Like to Know, the middle term predominating. When he discovered that No. 15, Bury Street, was exactly opposite No. 8, Bury Street, his feelings were such as break bell-wires.
'Dr. Quain Short is at the Alhambra Theatre this evening with the family,' a middle-aged and formidable housekeeper announced in reply to Mr. Knight's query. 'In case of urgency he is to be fetched. His box is No. 3.'
'The Alhambra Theatre! Where is that?' gasped Mr. Knight.
It should be explained that he held the stage in abhorrence, and, further, that the Alhambra had then only been opened for a very brief period.
'Two out, and the third at the theatre!' Mr. Knight mused grimly, hastening through Seven Dials. 'At the theatre, of all places!'
A letter to the Times about the medical profession was just shaping itself in his mind as he arrived at the Alhambra and saw that a piece entitled King Carrot filled the bill.
'King Karrot!' he muttered scornfully, emphasizing the dangerously explosive consonants in a manner which expressed with complete adequacy, not only his indignation against the entire medical profession, but his utter and profound contempt for the fatuities of the modern stage.
The politeness of the officials and the prompt appearance of Dr. Quain Short did something to mollify the draper's manager of ten years' standing, though he was not pleased when the doctor insisted on going first to his surgery for certain requisites. It was half-past eleven when he returned home; Dr. Quain Short was supposed to be hard behind.
'How long you've been!' said a voice on the second flight of stairs, 'It's all over. A boy. And dear Susan is doing splendidly. Mrs. Puddiphatt says she never saw such a--'
From the attic floor came the sound of a child crying shrilly and lustily:
'Aunt Annie! Aunt Annie! Aunt Annie!'
'Run up and quieten him!' Mr. Knight commanded. 'It's like him to begin making a noise just now. I'll take a look at Susan-and my firstborn.'
* * *
Arnold Bennett (1867-1931) was a prolific British writer and journalist. Bennett is popular for fiction such as The Old Wives' Tale and also for non-fiction works such as How to Live on 24 Hours a Day and Mental Efficiency. This edition of The Old Adam: A Story of Adventure includes a table of contents.
Arnold Bennett (1867-1931) was a prolific British writer and journalist. Bennett is popular for fiction such as The Old Wives' Tale and also for non-fiction works such as How to Live on 24 Hours a Day and Mental Efficiency. This edition of The Ghost: A Modern Fantasy includes a table of contents.
Arnold Bennett was a prolific British writer who penned dozens of works across all genres, from adventurous fiction to propaganda and nonfiction. He wrote plays like Judith and historical novels like Tales of the Five Towns.
Dodo Collections brings you another classic from Arnold Bennett, '"Denry the Audacious."' Like many of Arnold Bennett's works of fiction, the comic novel Denry the Audacious is set among the quaint village lanes of the Potteries District of Staffordshire. It is amidst this humble environment that the one-of-a-kind character Edward Henry Machin emerges from poverty and, largely through the force of his own indomitable will, achieves a measure of power and influence. Enoch Arnold Bennett (always known as Arnold Bennett) was one of the most remarkable literary figures of his time, a product of the English Potteries that he made famous as the Five Towns. Yet he could hardly wait to escape his home town, and he did so by the sheer force of his ambition to succeed as an author. In his time he turned his hand to every kind of writing, but he will be remembered for such novels as The Old Wives' Tale, the Clayhanger trilogy (Clayhanger, Hilda Lessways, and These Twain), and The Card. He also wrote such intriguing self-improvement books as Literary Taste, How To Live on 24 Hours a Day, The Human Machine, etc. After a local education Bennett finished his education at the University of London and for a time was editor of Woman magazine. After 1900 he devoted himself entirely to writing; dramatic criticism was one of his foremost interests. Bennett is best known, however, for his novels, several of which were written during his residence in France. Bennett's infancy was spent in genteel poverty, which gave way to prosperity as his father succeeded as a solicitor. From this provincial background he became a novelist.His enduring fame is as a Chronicler of the Potteries towns, the setting and inspiration of some of his most famous and enduring literary work and the place where he grew up.
Anna Tellwright, daughter of a wealthy but miserly and dictatorial father, lives in the Potteries area of Staffordshire, England. Her activities are strictly controlled by the Methodist church. Anna struggles for freedom and independence against her father's restraints, and her inward battle between wanting to please her father and wanting to help Willie Price whose father, Titus Price, committed suicide after falling into bankruptcy and debt.
Arnold Bennett (1867-1931) was a prolific British writer and journalist. Bennett is popular for fiction such as The Old Wives' Tale and also for non-fiction works such as How to Live on 24 Hours a Day and Mental Efficiency. This edition of The Matador of the Five Towns and Other Stories includes a table of contents.
In the shadows, I found a destiny that was never meant to be mine. All my life, I've been an outcast and the target of cruel jokes. But fate flings me onto a different path when I receive a full-ride scholarship to a prestigious university I never applied to. As the new girl at Evergreen Elite, I'm surrounded by whispered secrets and danger that lurks in every corner. Then I meet Raffe Wright, the university's sexy, broody quarterback, whose presence stirs something deep within me. Every instinct warns me away from him, yet I can't fight the magnetic pull between us. As I unravel the mysteries of the university, I uncover truths about my own past and secrets that could change everything. Each step leads closer to Raffe, and the destiny that brought me here. But the deeper I delve, the more I realize that Raffe might be both the answer to my questions and the greatest danger of all.
On her wedding night, Natalie's stepmother set her up to marry Jarvis, a disfigured and disabled man. Fortunately, she managed to escape, but little did she know that later she would fall for the man she was betrothed to.Jarvis pretended to be a poor man, but he didn't think that he'd fall head over heels for this woman.Their life went on until one day, Natalie found out her boyfriend's little secret."Huh? How could you have billions of dollars' worth of assets?" she asked in disbelief.Jarvis didn’t know how to respond.Being met with silence, she gritted her teeth angrily. "They said that you couldn't walk, but as far as I can see, you're strong enough to run a marathon."Still, he remained silent.Natalie continued, "They even said that you only have a few years to live. What about now?"Finally, Jarvis opened his mouth to explain. "Honey, this is all just a misunderstanding. Please calm down. Think about the baby.""Jarvis Braxton!"The man knelt down immediately.
I received a pornographic video. "Do you like this?" The man speaking in the video is my husband, Mark, whom I haven't seen for several months. He is naked, his shirt and pants scattered on the ground, thrusting forcefully on a woman whose face I can't see, her plump and round breasts bouncing vigorously. I can clearly hear the slapping sounds in the video, mixed with lustful moans and grunts. "Yes, yes, fuck me hard, baby," the woman screams ecstatically in response. "You naughty girl!" Mark stands up and flips her over, slapping her buttocks as he speaks. "Stick your ass up!" The woman giggles, turns around, sways her buttocks, and kneels on the bed. I feel like someone has poured a bucket of ice water on my head. It's bad enough that my husband is having an affair, but what's worse is that the other woman is my own sister, Bella. ************************************************************************************************************************ “I want to get a divorce, Mark,” I repeated myself in case he didn't hear me the first time—even though I knew he'd heard me clearly. He stared at me with a frown before answering coldly, "It's not up to you! I'm very busy, don't waste my time with such boring topics, or try to attract my attention!" The last thing I was going to do was argue or bicker with him. "I will have the lawyer send you the divorce agreement," was all I said, as calmly as I could muster. He didn't even say another word after that and just went through the door he'd been standing in front of, slamming it harshly behind him. My eyes lingered on the knob of the door a bit absentmindedly before I pulled the wedding ring off my finger and placed it on the table. I grabbed my suitcase, which I'd already had my things packed in and headed out of the house.
Celine Herrera has always had to fight her stepsister, Delia, for everything she'd ever wanted from a young age. So, she isn't surprised when Delia demands to be given the family company that Celine had worked to build all her life. Since she's not the favorite of her grandfather, Delia is once again going to get what she wants. But this time, it's on a condition: whoever gets married first and gives birth to a child gets the company. Celine Herrera is ready to do whatever it takes to have the one thing that brought her true happiness. So she seizes the opportunity and, when she crosses paths with one of the most feared and ruthless men to ever exist, she does not hesitate to propose a contract marriage. She gets what she wants, but what she doesn't know is that Belshar Nessar Abed only agreed to her terms for one reason: revenge.
Rejected by her mate, who had been her long-time crush, Jasmine felt utterly humiliated. Seeking solace, she headed to a party to drown her sorrows. But things took a turn for the worse when her friends issued a cruel dare: kiss a stranger or beg her mate for forgiveness. With no other choice, Jasmine approached a stranger and kissed him, thinking that would be the end of it. However, the stranger unexpectedly wrapped his arms around her waist and whispered in her ear, "You're mine!" He growled, his words sending shivers down her spine. And then, he offered her a solution that would change everything...
After Martina Martinez and Benjamin Walker's breakup, paparazzi captured photos of the business tycoon entering the Walker family mansion with a mysterious woman late at night. This caused a stir, and this wealthy family was bombarded by various media outlets. During a phone interview, the gossip reporter asked, "Miss Martinez, how do you feel now that Mr. Walker has a new girlfriend?" Martina held her painful forehead and looked towards Benjamin, who was adjusting his suit by the floor-to-ceiling window. He gestured for her to come over and help him with his tie. Holding her phone, Martina responded, "It's... complicated!" The reporter's heart leaped with joy and asked, "Is it heartbroken?!" Martina was about to nod, but Benjamin raised his eyebrows and took her phone away. His deep and alluring voice was heard on the other end of the line, "New girlfriend? Whose?"