1836: AGED SIXTY-ONE
THE RECEPTION OF 'JULIET AND HER NURSE' PROCLAIMS THAT TURNER IS
BEGINNING TO LOSE FAVOUR WITH THE PUBLIC
This year, alas! Turner exhibited 'Juliet and her Nurse,' and 'Mercury
and Argus.' How strange it is that the hand that was painting Delight
Drawings and Pictures for pleasure should also be producing 'Juliet
and her Nurse' and 'Mercury and Argus' for exhibition. Even kindly
Time has not brought 'Mercury and Argus' into favour. Shown at the
Japan-British Exhibition of 1910, all a modern critic could say was:
'It is charitable to suppose that it was hastily produced for purposes
of exhibition, with a carelessness as to technical structure which
time has exposed.' The contemporary attacks on 'Juliet and her Nurse,'
following the severe criticism in _Blackwood_ of the Venice picture,
provoked Ruskin to write the letter, the germ of _Modern Painters_,
mentioned in the foregoing chapter. This defence by the fiery champion
of seventeen was acknowledged by Turner' with thanks but without
praise,' and he added, 'I never move in these matters.'
During the journey to Italy, which Turner made this year with Mr.
Munro of Novar, I do not suppose that he ever mentioned the name of
Ruskin. That must have been rather a difficult journey, as Munro of
Novar was suffering from a 'great depression of spirits'; but the trip
seems to have been of benefit to Munro. He reports that Turner enjoyed
himself in his way--'a sort of honest Diogenes way '--and that he was
companionable enough if such teasing questions were avoided as to how
he got this or that colour.
Turner never rhapsodised about scenery. His usual morning question
during that journey was, 'Have you got the sponge?' He was fond of
laconic remarks. One of them I shall always remember. Ruskin, before
starting forth on a certain foreign tour, called upon Turner to bid him
good-bye, the ardent youth no doubt expecting, hoping for, priceless
words of counsel; but Turner was mainly anxious that the young author
should not give his parents cause for anxiety on his travels. 'They
will be in such a fidge about you,' were his parting words.