Twenty Years of My Life

In Short

This memoir chronicles the professional and social journey of a man who transitioned from a young poet to a prolific travel writer and renowned literary host. Spanning the turn of the twentieth century, the narrative functions as a window into the vibrant, often eccentric world of London’s "Bohemia." By detailing his friendships with iconic figures—from Mark Twain to Captain Robert Scott—the author provides an intimate, gossipy, and affectionate record of a vanished social era. It remains a valuable historical artifact not for its literary profundity, but for its role as a living guest list of the most influential creative minds of the period.

The Story

The narrative begins with a glimpse into the author’s professional life as an editor—specifically his work on Who’s Who—which introduces a recurring theme: the absurdity and occasional majesty of the public eye. From this administrative start, the reader is swept across the globe. The author describes his restless desire to travel, leading him to Japan, a journey that proved to be his professional turning point. By writing The Japs at Home, he successfully sheds his initial label as an "Australian Poet" and establishes himself as a travel writer of significant popular success. This newfound identity grants him the freedom to live a life of "drifting," untethered by fixed plans, as he traverses the globe and eventually settles into the rhythm of London life.

Upon returning to England, the author and his family establish their home in Addison Mansions. Here, the story shifts from travelogue to social chronicle. With a narrow hall decorated in autographed portraits and rooms filled with Japanese curios, the author creates a salon that becomes a magnet for the city’s creative elite. The narrative tracks these "literary at-homes," where the reader meets a staggering variety of personalities, from novelists and poets to explorers and actors. The arc of the memoir is essentially a series of portraits and encounters. We witness his father’s gentle decline, the author’s own transition from a city dweller to the quietude of a house in Richmond, and the shifting fortunes of his contemporaries.

Throughout these years, the author observes the world with a keen, albeit anecdotal, eye. He recounts humorous dinners involving Emile Zola, serious discussions on the state of the Empire, and the tragic loss of friends like Captain Scott. The story does not follow a strict linear progression toward a grand climax, but rather gathers weight through the accumulation of experience. It concludes with the author reflecting on his life in Richmond, surrounded by the remnants of a career built on books and friendships, offering a contemplative look back at the figures he helped introduce to one another. The ending is not one of dramatic transformation, but of peaceful continuity—a man who has found his place in the world as a witness to the brilliance of others, having survived the passing of an era to record its final, flickering lights.

How It Unfolds

The voyage begins The narrative opens with the author’s professional life as a literary editor and his restless urge to travel. He describes a tumultuous journey across the sea to Japan, which serves as the catalyst for his true career as an author.

The shift in identity Upon reaching Japan, he finds a subject that captures the public’s imagination. By writing about his travels, he successfully discards his early, restrictive label as an "Australian Poet" to become a widely read travel writer.

The salon of Addison Mansions The author returns to London and opens his home to the city’s "Bohemia." He describes the intimate, cramped, and curated atmosphere of his flat, which serves as the stage for weekly gatherings of authors, artists, and actors.

The parade of personalities The middle chapters unfold as a series of encounters with the luminaries of the age. He shares private stories about the likes of Arthur Conan Doyle, Mark Twain, and the poets of the Irish Literary Revival.

The transition to stillness Following the death of his father, the author leaves the city for a quieter life in Richmond. He describes his new home, a house with a garden filled with ancient trees, where he continues to produce books in the peaceful surroundings of his later years.

The People

The author, Douglas Sladen, acts as the steady, observant anchor throughout the text; he is a man who values the role of a host above all else, finding his purpose in bringing the right people together. His father, a man of eighty-six, represents the closing of an older chapter of life, passing away with a quiet dignity that marks the author's transition into his own maturity.

The figures who populate these pages are diverse and vividly drawn. Mark Twain appears with his characteristic drawl and dry wit, sharing a humorous and slightly absurd story about the nature of his own health. Captain Robert Scott is portrayed as a man of indomitable courage, a "blue-eyed" hero who possesses an irresistible personality and a deep sense of national duty. George Meredith is recalled with reverence, described as "majestic" and godlike in his old age, a stark contrast to the vanity of other literary figures. The author also features his peers, such as the energetic Coulson Kernahan, known for his vast network of friends and his notoriously illegible handwriting, and Jeyes, a sharp-tongued journalist and scholar whose wit constantly challenged those around him. Each person is defined by their unique quirks and their contribution to the cultural tapestry of the time.

In Its Own Voice

"The East, the Far East, which I had heard 'a-calling' all my life, was right within my grasp."

The author describes the moment of arrival in Japan, signaling the start of his success as an author.

"They knew of me as the friend of authors, artists, and actors, and people who were merely charming, and well enough off to entertain, and enjoyed meeting the celebrities of Bohemia."

The author reflects on his reputation in London, where his identity as a host often overshadowed his identity as a writer.

"Scott was one of those blue-eyed men who can meet any danger with a smile, and are absolutely devoid of fear."

The author pays tribute to the character of the ill-fated explorer, Captain Robert Scott.

What It's Really About

This book is a meditation on the nature of literary influence and the social infrastructure that supports the creation of art. It explores the idea that behind every great work of literature is a network of personal relationships, professional favors, and the quiet, often unacknowledged role of the connector. The author implicitly argues that a writer’s legacy is as much defined by their friendships and their role within a community as it is by the words on the page. It questions how fame is manufactured, how memories are preserved, and how the "Bohemian" life—once a vibrant, chaotic, and intellectually demanding sphere—is eventually smoothed over by the passage of time. It is a defense of the ephemeral, proving that even the most "unsecured" of creditors can build a life of richness through genuine human connection.

Why Read It Today

Readers who enjoy literary history and the "behind the scenes" aspect of the Victorian and Edwardian creative world will find much to admire here. It reads like a long, leisurely conversation with an elderly, well-traveled, and extremely well-connected friend who has an inexhaustible store of anecdotes. You will feel as though you are sitting in that narrow, book-lined hallway in Addison Mansions, listening to the echoes of famous voices.

However, the reader should be prepared for the author's period-specific sensibilities and the sometimes scattershot nature of his recollections. The book is not a formal, structured autobiography; it is an impressionistic collection of memories, and its length may feel daunting to those seeking a tight narrative arc. It reflects the attitudes of a man born in the mid-nineteenth century, including the inherent biases and social assumptions of his class and time. Despite this, there is a refreshing honesty in his lack of pretense. You stay for the intimate portraits of writers who are now household names but who, in these pages, are revealed as vulnerable, funny, and deeply human individuals. It captures a sense of belonging to a "republic of letters" that feels both distant and profoundly relatable. It remains a touching, honest document of a life well-lived in the company of the greatest minds of the age, leaving you with a lingering sense of warmth for a world that has long since passed.