John Galsworthy

John Galsworthy
John Galsworthy (1867-1933) was an English novelist and playwright renowned for his series of novels collectively titled "The Forsyte Saga," which offers a critical portrayal of the upper-middle-class in Britain during the late 19th and early 20th centuries. He was awarded the Nobel Prize in Literature in 1932 for his distinguished art of narration which takes its highest form in "The Forsyte Saga." Galsworthy was also a social activist, advocating for prison reform, women's rights, and animal welfare throughout his life.

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In the last day of May in the early 'nineties, about six o'clock of the evening, old Jolyon Forsyte sat under the oak tree below the terrace of his house at Robin Hill. He was waiting for the midges to bite him, before abandoning the glory of the afternoon. His thin brown hand, where blue veins stood out, held the end of a cigar in its tapering, long-nailed fingers—a pointed polished nail... more...

ACT I It is the night of Christmas Eve, the SCENE is a Studio, flushwith the street, having a skylight darkened by a fall of snow.There is no one in the room, the walls of which are whitewashed,above a floor of bare dark boards. A fire is cheerfullyburning. On a model's platform stands an easel and canvas.There are busts and pictures; a screen, a little stool, two arm.chairs, and a long... more...

ABOUT CENSORSHIP Since, time and again, it has been proved, in this country of free institutions, that the great majority of our fellow-countrymen consider the only Censorship that now obtains amongst us, namely the Censorship of Plays, a bulwark for the preservation of their comfort and sensibility against the spiritual researches and speculations of bolder and too active spirits—it has become time... more...

AWAKENING Through the massive skylight illuminating the hall at Robin Hill, the July sunlight at five o'clock fell just where the broad stairway turned; and in that radiant streak little Jon Forsyte stood, blue-linen-suited. His hair was shining, and his eyes, from beneath a frown, for he was considering how to go downstairs, this last of innumerable times, before the car brought his father and... more...

ACT I The scene is the managing clerk's room, at the offices of Jamesand Walter How, on a July morning. The room is old fashioned,furnished with well-worn mahogany and leather, and lined withtin boxes and estate plans. It has three doors. Two of themare close together in the centre of a wall. One of these twodoors leads to the outer office, which is only divided from themanaging clerk's room... more...

ACT I SCENE I The study of JOHN BUILDER in the provincial town of Breconridge.A panelled room wherein nothing is ever studied, except perhapsBUILDER'S face in the mirror over the fireplace. It is, however,comfortable, and has large leather chairs and a writing table in thecentre, on which is a typewriter, and many papers. At the back is alarge window with French outside shutters, overlooking the... more...

QUALITY I knew him from the days of my extreme youth, because he made my father's boots; inhabiting with his elder brother two little shops let into one, in a small by-street-now no more, but then most fashionably placed in the West End. That tenement had a certain quiet distinction; there was no sign upon its face that he made for any of the Royal Family—merely his own German name of Gessler... more...

THE INN OF TRANQUILLITY Under a burning blue sky, among the pine-trees and junipers, the cypresses and olives of that Odyssean coast, we came one afternoon on a pink house bearing the legend: "Osteria di Tranquillita,"; and, partly because of the name, and partly because we did not expect to find a house at all in those goat-haunted groves above the waves, we tarried for contemplation. To the... more...

ACT I SCENE I The curtain rises on the BARTHWICK'S dining-room, large, modern, and well furnished; the window curtains drawn. Electric light is burning. On the large round dining-table is set out a tray with whisky, a syphon, and a silver cigarette-box. It is past midnight. A fumbling is heard outside the door. It is opened suddenly; JACK BARTHWICK seems to fall into the room. He stands holding by... more...

HALL-MARKED The scene is the sitting-room and verandah of HER bungalow. The room is pleasant, and along the back, where the verandahruns, it seems all window, both French and casement. There is adoor right and a door left. The day is bright; the timemorning. [HERSELF, dripping wet, comes running along the verandah,through the French window, with a wet Scotch terrier in herarms. She vanishes through the... more...

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