Book Review: Lost Voices from the Titanic

Nick Barratt
Lost Voices from the Titanic: The Definitive Oral History
New York: Palgrave Macmillan/ St. Martin's Press, 2010
286 pp

When the HMS Titanic was built by Harland and Wolff for the British White Star Line in 1909-12, it was the largest passenger ship in the world, and also one of the most luxurious: the first class passengers enjoyed a gymnasium, squash court, Turkish bath and café, among other amenities, and their state rooms were magnificently appointed.

Late in the evening on April 14, 1912, the Titanic struck an iceberg off the coast of Newfoundland and a few hours later, it sank, killing roughly two-thirds of the passengers on it. As one of the worst peacetime disasters at sea, the sinking of the Titanic has been written about extensively  - indeed, so much so that at first, it would seem that there was nothing new to write about it. Nick Barratt's excellent oral history of the building, sailing and sinking of the Titanic proves that this is not so.

The opening chapters set the pre-World War I scene (mainly in England and the US) and the building of the ship - the newspaper excerpts and company archival material will intrigue those who are interested in the mechanics of ship-building. It was after this section that, for me, the book became impossible to put down - once, that is, the ship was about to sail, then was on its maiden and final voyage. Reading the story as told in the words of crew and passengers was an amazing experience. Barratt is certainly a presence in Lost Voices, but a welcome one as he guides us through the complex history of the White Star Line, the building and launching of the Titanic, the disaster, and its aftermath.

Barratt has done an incredible amount of research and found amazing documents - including letters from passengers both during and after the disaster - newspaper articles from papers both familiar and obscure - and papers pertaining to the White Star Line. Fortunately for us, Barratt's Voices are no longer lost, having been rescued by him from the depths of archives and personal collections.

NOTE (in the interests of disclosure): This book was sent to me gratis by the publisher, but the opinions in this review are my own.

The Celebrated Meen Fun

Meen Fun, whatever could that be?

In Perfumery and Kindred Arts (1877, p. 155) Richard S. Cristiani writes that this "Chinese skin powder" consists of "a sort of magnesian earth in impalpable powder, very absorbent to all secretions of the skin." Tung meen fun, by the way, is wheat starch flour, used in Chinese and Malaysian cooking.

The advertisement is from the Ladies' Guide to New York (1885). Richard M. Hobbs and his partner Mr. Fabian had been selling Meen Fun in New York at least since 1846 (the second advertisement, below, dates from 1845, so the 1846 date in the law suit must be wrong). Hobbs sued Ellenora Francais (or Francis) in 1860, for selling Meen Fun in England. Hobbs and Fabian also sold Meen Fun in England, as being "patronized by her Majesty the Queen" and as:

'MEEN FUN,' the Celebrated Chinese Skin Powder for Restoring, Beautifying, and Preserving the Skin and Complexion, Preventing Cutaneous Eruptions, Chapping, and Obviating too Copious Perspiration. Adapted for all Climates. Fabian & Co., Sole Proprietors, 24 Mark Lane, London. [Quoted in Treatise on the Law of Trade-marks and Analogous Subjects, William Henry Browne, 2nd ed. 1885, p. 494]

Ellenora Francais also sold Meen Fun in England with a similar label. Hobbs "claimed the exclusive right to use the words 'Meen Fun' as the name of his article, as he invented and first adopted it ["Another Trade Mark Case," New York Times, Sept. 27, 1860]

Meen Fun was widely used for many years. In 1863, a story for ladies in Harper's New Monthly Magazine shows some girls fixing up a friend of theirs to look like a marble statue in a tableau vivant :

Two boxes of Meen Fun were brought, a piece of flannel and of cotton stocking. A girl on each side powdered vigorously at poor Emma's face and neck and arms...I acknoweledged to myself that it was a very neat effect to be produced by one pair of sheets and two boxes of meen Fun..."Perfect!" I heard a voice behind me say. "It's the most perfect thing I ever saw in my life!" ["Tableaux Vivans [sic]," Harper's New Monthly Magazine, vol. 27, 1863, p. 703]

Poor Emma, indeed.

[The second Meen Fun ad is from the English publication The Lancet in 1845. I couldn't find one of Ellenora Francis' ads, but if I do I'll edit the post.]

*****
There's a book review coming up in the near future here, by the way (of a really excellent oral history of the Titanic) and otherwise - I am contemplating the possibility of starting a new blog to support my writing...or else transforming VDM into a Victorian ads blog (which, in a way, it already is - only there is so much else in it too, and the name VDM does not seem quite right to me anymore). I'll let you know, in any case.