I came rather accidentally across a biography of her - of course I had known of Nancy Cunard, a marginal character in those literary circles of the time that I have been interested in. Or rather known of her as an archetype, a spoiled, beautiful, rich little aristocrat girl dabbling in poetry and radical art and radical politics, an iconic image from the 1920's, a lifelong rebellion against dear Mother and her - also rather bohemian but absurdly grand - world. A lifelong failure to mature, a tragi-comedy in several acts, ending in predictable ruins.
That's not nearly fair, obviously. There was real talent, real tragedy there. She was also a victim of her cruel times, those brutal sexual and gender politics and values - she selfdestructed, like many artists, male or female, but was richly aided in the effort by her poisonous surroundings. And not only to talk about the attitudes and values (that she bravely fought against) but unimaginable historical events. When I read in the first pages that she was born in 1896 in securely wealthy, aristocratic but also artistic and forward looking surroundings, I could immediately picture much of the early story. Returning to London in 1919 she observed: "most people are dead".
Much promise was lost, like it always is, but in that era and in that class and age cohort, I would think, exceptionally much. She accomplished much, she was often grotesquely shallow and always scared, but had true brilliance, true talent. A casualty of history, like we all fundamentally are, but with a rare radiance.
