Brinton opens his study by tracing the etymology of 'caricature' to the Italian caricare—to load or charge—and notes its first English appearance in The Spectator No. 537 as 'those burlesque pictures which the Italians call caracaturas.' This linguistic root sets the tone for a work that treats caricature as a loaded, charged commentary on eighteenth-century English life. The book is structured as a series of comedies—of Vice, Society, Politics, and Life—each anchored in the prints of four key artists: Hogarth, Bunbury, Gillray, and Rowlandson. Brinton moves fluidly between biographical sketch and print analysis, using the artists' careers as a framework to explore recurring visual motifs and the shifting social scenes they captured.
Hogarth's Moral Stages
Brinton presents Hogarth as the foundational figure, whose series prints—like Morning, The Distrest Poet, and Marriage à la Mode—function as sequential scenes that trace moral narratives. He emphasizes Hogarth's ability to pack a single frame with telling details: a disordered room, a character's posture, or a telling object. The movement between scenes in Hogarth's work is not merely chronological but causal, each print advancing a moral argument. Brinton notes how Hogarth's 'famous print' of a strolling company 'storming' a barn for a performance exemplifies the rough-and-tumble reality behind theatrical glamour. This attention to the physical setting—the barn, the makeshift dressing-rooms—anchors Hogarth's satire in tangible, everyday spaces.
Bunbury's Comic Interludes
Henry William Bunbury, less known today, receives focused attention for his lighter, more whimsical touch. Brinton highlights prints such as The Family Piece, A Fashionable Salutation, and Lumps of Pudding, which capture social rituals with a gentle, often absurd eye. The recurring image of the 'fashionable salutation'—a bow or curtsy gone awry—becomes a motif for the artificiality of polite society. Brinton's analysis moves from the crowded domestic interior of The Family Piece to the outdoor setting of Recruits, showing how Bunbury varies his scenes to contrast private and public comedy. The structure of this section mirrors the artist's own method: a series of vignettes that build a cumulative portrait of Georgian social life.
Gillray's Political Theatre
James Gillray dominates the political section, with Brinton tracing his career from engraver of Goldsmith's poems to the era's most incisive political satirist. The movement here is historical: from the Shelburne Ministry of 1782 through Fox's India Bill to the French Revolution and the rise of Napoleon. Brinton describes Gillray's prints as 'trumpet-calls' at moments of national crisis, singling out Britannia between Death and the Doctors, Armed Heroes, and Buonaparte as King-Maker. The recurring image of Britannia—vulnerable, besieged, or defiant—ties these prints together. Brinton notes that Gillray was never a hired caricaturist, yet his work targeted all sides: the King's parsimony in 'Monstrous Craws' and 'Anti-Saccharites,' and the opposition in 'Carlo Khan's Triumphant Entry.' The political scene shifts from court to street to battlefield, each print a frozen moment in a larger drama.
Rowlandson's Lively Crowds
Thomas Rowlandson closes the quartet, his work spanning the comedies of Life. Brinton highlights prints such as Nelson Recruiting with his Brave Tars, Filial Affection, A Ball at the Hackney Assembly Rooms, A Theatrical Candidate, and Old Joseph Nollekens and his Venus. The recurring image is the crowd—whether sailors, dancers, or theatre-goers—animated by Rowlandson's fluid line. Brinton's analysis moves from the patriotic fervor of Nelson's recruiting to the chaotic intimacy of a ballroom, emphasizing how Rowlandson captures movement through posture and gesture. The 'tail-piece' of Shrimpers serves as a quiet counterpoint, showing a more pastoral scene. This section's structure mirrors Rowlandson's own variety, shifting between public spectacle and private eccentricity.
Brinton's study offers a structured tour through four distinct comic modes, each tied to a master of the form. Readers will find the book most useful as a companion to the prints themselves: the text provides context—biographical, political, social—without overwhelming the visual evidence. The recurring motifs of loaded carriages, crowded rooms, and theatrical postures invite comparison across artists. For those new to eighteenth-century caricature, Brinton's clear organization and concrete observations make the period's satire accessible without reducing its complexity.
That rainy afternoon, leafing through Brinton’s pages on Gillray’s frantic crowds, I found myself stalled on a tiny copper engraving of a wig-stand. Its odd terminology niggled at me. Later, nearly by accident, I reached for An Illustrated Dictionary of Words used in Art and Archaeology Explaining terms frequently used in works on architecture, arms, bronzes, Christian art, colour, costume — Edition Insights, and the afternoon quietly doubled.