Gorgeous George and the Devil Himself

Brawls are fun to enjoy from the bleachers. And the first great literary feud still has a lot to teach us. Meet the two combatants now.

In the left corner, Lord Byron (aka George Gordon): Born in 1788. 5'8". Lover, boxer, swimmer, marksman and literary rock star. Drank wine from a human skull and had sex with his half-sister.

In the right corner, Robert Southey: Born in 1774. A 6' former rebel who turned coat for a government pension. Became Poet Laureate when Walter Scott declined. Sang prolifically then for his supper.

Fight genesis: Motives seem murky. Southey may have seen in Byron the sins he wished he'd been blessed to commit, while Byron saw in Southey the staid bore he feared he'd become. But three factors combined to stir up the big brawl:
--1818. Byron took quick playful shots at Southey in the Dedication of Don Juan. Though Lord B's English Bards & Scotch Reviewers had lambasted everyone nine years before, his new dig at Southey turned obscene:

You, Bob, are rather insolent, you know, 

  At being disappointed in your wish

To supersede all warblers here below,

  And be the only Blackbird in the dish;

And then you overstrain yourself, or so,

  And tumble downward like the flying fish

Gasping on deck,because you soar too high, Bob,

  And fall, for lack of moisture quite a-dry, Bob!

(Note: a dry bob refers to sex without ejaculation.)

--1820. Southey swung back in his Vision of Judgement, attacking the 'Satanic school' of poetry--to which, he suggested, his rival belonged.

--1822. Byron believed that Southey had spread rumors of a 'League of Incest' involving him and Shelley. And so he delivered the next, mortal blow: a brilliant parody of Southey's VOJ (which had portrayed George III's ascent to heaven). Byron's version ridiculed both the 'mad, old, blind, despised and dying king' and his poet mercilessly. And Southey became the new national joke while two years later Byron died a hero's death in Greece.

A few points to consider for those contemplating feuds:
1) A change in moral climate may make you rue your words. Young writers came to envy the Byronic lifestyle. And the 'Satanic school' seemed a cool school to attend. Better to burn with Lord Byron than be an insufferable bore.

2) An ironic twist of fate can do still more to ruin you. If the sinner you've had the misfortune to slime dies young and heroically, your past attacks will have dug your own grave. Today there are statues of Byron in and around Missolonghi while no one remembers Bob Southey, who lost his health and then his mind.
3) The wittier writer may trump Manly Men. Norman Mailer once slugged Gore Vidal because of a snotty review. But GV was ready the next time--as luck would have it, on TV. When Mailer headbutted him, GV replied: 'Once again, words fail Norman Mailer.' End of conversation.
4) The best defense against cruel wit can be the unvarnished truth. Vidal had lampooned Tru Capote and Tennessee Williams for years. (Sample? One of many: 'Truman's a full-fledged housewife from Kansas with all the prejudices.') Tru's response: 'He's jealous. Gore has literally never written a masterpiece. He has not written an unforgettable book or a book that was the turning point in either his or anybody else's life. Without that, it doesn't matter how much he does or what he does.'  Nor was Tru afraid of Mailer, who'd sat on him and called In Cold blood 'A failure of the imagination.' Tru responded, when the time was right: 'Now I see that the only prizes Norman wins are for that kind of writing. I'm glad I was of some small service to him.'

5) But even the wittiest may do themselves in. Capote was shunned when word got around that his work in progress, Answered Prayers, would tar-and-feather his rich, famous friends. And Oscar Wilde went to jail for his jovial quips in the courtroom -- not because he preferred sex with boys.

Conclusion and Proposal
Byron was lucky to have died before TV and Facebook, TMZ and Twitter. The fur now flies at frightening speed. And the quickest clicks of keys cause feuds that last for years. Hold your fire when you can. And return to your desk to do battle again with the Devil Himself that's within you.

All the rest is smoke and noise.