Burton in 1864 with one of his innumerable journals in hand. He probably sat down and wrote another book after this photograph was taken.The Oxford Classics cover above is fake, by the way. In a better world… — Burton in 1864 with one of his innumerable journals in hand. He probably sat down and wrote another book after this photograph was taken.
The Oxford Classics cover above is fake, by the way. In a better world…

The bicentennial of Richard F. Burton's birth rolled around about three weeks ago. We here at the DMR Blog gave him his due, with blog entries from David Hardy and myself. However, that wasn't the end of it. As others--like Jim Cornelius--can attest, Burton studies are a maelstrom, a rabbit-hole, which can draw one down into unplumbed depths. My last safari into Burtoniana was about fifteen years ago. The bug bit me anew doing research for my bicentennial Burton blog post.

This time, the specific Burtonian rabbit-hole was literary. Richard Effin' Burton*--as he should properly be called--was a writer and a poet, on top of being an anthropologist, an archaeologist, a geographer, a linguist, a mystic, a swordsman, a spy and a sexologist. Writing and poetry, not exploration or geography, are the through-lines to be seen from one end of his life to the other. RFB was a man of the written word, with few rivals during his era when it comes to quality and even fewer when it comes to quantity.

The Notorious RFB is known to have written poems—most often, not complimentary—about Oxford dons and his superiors in the East India Company during his youth. He would craft original poetry and translate the poetry of others—much of it still in print—for the rest of his life. While serving in India, Burton was constantly taking notes for future books--sometimes as the houses he was staying in were collapsing due to the monsoon rains. After almost a decade with the Company, Richard was granted sick leave. Over the course of the next two years, he wrote five books, totaling well over one thousand pages. All fully annotated. Suck on that, GRRM.

Burton then made his famous pilgrimage to Mecca while in disguise, which journey was immortalized in his landmark anthropological text/travelogue, Personal Narrative of a Pilgrimage to El-Medinah and Meccah. Book after book followed, but the true floodgates weren't opened until Burton was given the post of British consul in Trieste in 1872. That posting is widely considered a sinecure granted him for services done the British Empire incognito, from northern India to the American South to Syria. If he was to be ‘put out to pasture’, RFB would use his time, publishing all the books he wanted to publish in the decades before.

While RFB was still a consul in Brazil, he published his collection of folklore, Vikram and the Vampire, or Tales of Hindu Devilry (1870). These were drawn from North Indian legendry but—as always--Burton laid his own mark upon them. The Burtonian touch would be seen on a much larger scale when he tackled The Thousand and One Nights.

Burton published his long poetic work, The Kasidah of Haji Abdu El-Yezdi: A Lay of the Higher Law, in 1880. It presented his agnostic/unitarian view of theology, albeit at third remove. The Kasidah was purportedly written by the titular 'Abdu El-Yezdi' and translated by one 'Frank Baker'--'Baker' being Richard's mother's maiden name. It sold poorly at the time, but went through multiple editions during the early twentieth century. It remains in print to this day.

1883 would see the publication of The Kama Sutra of Vatsyayana. This was--at the time--an obscure text that Burton had hunted down while in India. Though the basic translations were done by others, Burton edited and rewrote as he saw fit, on top of copious annotations and footnotes. Overall, RFB, in my opinion, improved the text and made it livelier. It is still considered a 'classic' translation to this day.

The Lion in Winter. Burton in Trieste, 1890, the year he died.

Burton would publish The Book of the Sword in 1884, which tome is still considered a landmark in the history of the 'Queen of Weapons'--as Richard named it. In the 1850s, RFB was counted the equal of any fencing masters in England or France. He personally saw swords wielded in anger from India to Africa to South America. Ewart Oakeshott and Hank Reinhardt--as they freely admitted--both owed a huge debt to Burton's pioneering efforts.

In 1885, what is widely considered Richard's masterwork was published--The Book of the Thousand Nights and a Night: A Plain and Literal Translation of the Arabian Nights Entertainments, which ran to ten volumes.** Burton translated all of the poetic sections from the Arabic himself, relying upon others for some of the prose sections. He then thoroughly edited the entire work and added annotations and footnotes throughout, drawing upon his unparalleled knowledge of south and south-west Asia. His translation is still regarded as the standard in the twenty-first century. It has been reprinted numerous times, often expurgated and abridged to one extent or another.

During his 'Trieste period', Burton would publish many other works, but those listed above are the most influential in my estimation. A full bibliography with links can be found here.

Make no mistake about it: the Notorious RFB was exactly that in late Victorian England—notorious. Love him or hate him, everyone from lords of the realm to chimney-sweeps knew about Burton and held a firm opinion of some sort about the man. He could not be ignored, even while he endured semi-exile as a consul in Trieste. Amongst the commoners of England Richard was widely popular, what with his obvious--almost superhuman--accomplishments, his relatively 'low' ancestry and his general disdain for the opinions of the elites. Among those same elites he had his supporters and haters. Most of the haters are forgotten. Today, Burton still towers, a Victorian Colossus who inspires the brave and the strong to heroic deeds while provoking envy and self-hate in those who can never hope to measure up.

Part Two of this series will look at how Richard Burton influenced the authors of the Heroic Age of Exotic Adventure.

*I am far beyond weary of reading various online scribes begin their articles about RFB with something along the lines of "Not Richard Burton the actor." That Burton was a decent enough actor--and he married Elizabeth Taylor after she was past her first bloom--but he will be as one with the dust of forgotten ages when the last Boomer dies. Richard Francis Burton will never be forgotten as long as men of courage and erudition are remembered. Bedouin tribes still tell tales about him. RFB was a legend while still alive and remains so. The other guy was just a legendary drunkard.

**Back in the 1990s, I had a chance to buy all ten volumes of the first American edition of 'The Arabian Nights' for $100. I still regret passing that up, though it all--probably--would've been lost in the Flood of 2012 like so much else.