Sara Trevisan wrote:
> Also, Eliot worked at Faber & Faber... I've always wondered about that.
I wondered about the name of Faber and Faber, for different reasons.
When Geoffrey Faber and the Gwyers decided to go their own ways again
the firm of Faber and Faber was created. I never heard anything about
the non-Geoffrey Faber though. There was a reason for that (no, not a
mad brother kept locked in the basement.) This is the reason the
Faber and Faber website gives:
Faber and Faber began as a firm in 1929, but its roots go back further
to The Scientific Press, founded in the early years of the
century. This last firm was owned by Sir Maurice and Lady Gwyer and
derived much of its income from the weekly magazine The Nursing
Mirror. Their desire to expand into trade publishing led them to
Geoffrey Faber, a fellow of All Souls College, Oxford, and Faber and
Gwyer was founded in 1925. After four years, The Nursing Mirror was
sold and Geoffrey Faber and the Gwyers agreed to go their separate
ways. Searching for a name with a ring of respectability, Geoffrey hit
on the name Faber and Faber, although there was only ever one of him.
P.S. Today I had an amusing ironic incident. I entered the old
portion of the Boston Public Library. Names of authors and artists
were engraved on the outside walls. The steps leading up to the
library also lead down toward Copley Square and Richardson's Trinity
Church. I went up the central staircase with the two large lions
representing two Massachusetts Civil War regiments. At the top of the
stairwell are murals with classical themes and getting off the stairs
I faced another large mural, done by Sargent I believe. I took a
little diversion to view a bust of Henry James, a large silver lantern
to memorialize the start of the Revolutionary War and the room with
the dozen Pre-Raphaelite murals about the quest for the Holy Grail.
I turned around to go into the reading room at the end of the corridor.
The room was sparse with large wooden tables and a marble floor. Out
the windows I could see another of Boston's Back Bay impressive stone
churches. I sat at the table facing the marble fireplace. Three feet
in back of me, along the wall, were stacks of books -- all auto repair