One of the people I’ve interviewed for my book is Robert St-Louis, who studies horology (clock- and watch-making) and has done extensive research on the 18th-century French watch-maker, André-Charles Caron, among other topics. These are short extracts from a wide-ranging telephone interview I did with Robert on October 17, 2019.

the beginnings of watch-making in Europe

watch-making in England and France in the 18th century

Robert St-Louis developed an interest in horology after retirement. He has done research in books and online as well as in horological journals. He’s also a collector, acquiring some old tools and specimens of vintage clocks and watches, and he is trying to learn some repair and restoration skills. His main interest is in Parisian watch-makers in the 18th century. Contact him at

As part of the effort to write this biography of Sam Johnson, I’ve used Twitter as a way to connect with people who have a wide variety knowledge of the 18th century. Not just people who study Johnson — in fact I think few of them are active Johnson scholars in the sense that they teach him at a university — but also people who know about aspects of life in the 18th century (what daily life was like) or who know about other writers and other figures in 18th-century England. It’s a very interesting and vocal group and I enjoy being part of this little community.

I’ve found it interesting, though I guess it shouldn’t be really surprising, that many of them talk about much more than the 18th century in their tweets and replies. I would say that the topics most frequently brought up are Donald Trump, COVID-19, political issues (lately, for example, Black Lives Matter and the initiative to remove statues in the US which depict historical figures who were part of the Confederacy), and personal issues (e.g., the difficulty concentrating and writing in the midst of a pandemic). Some of the people I follow on Twitter are language specialists, either directly, or indirectly in the sense that they are people who study literature and so they know something about language and its uses. I’ve occasionally made an effort to keep my political and other views off Twitter, but I’ve found that it’s hard to make those stark demarcations (“Twitter is only to help me with my Johnson book”). Some of the most interesting people I follow are very vocal about non-18th-century things, and I can’t help replying and commenting myself. Still, I try to keep it to some semblance of a minimum: for example, I might just “like” something from the Lincoln Project or from Sarah Cooper, but won’t go any further than that.

Twitter aside, I am making progress on my book. I’ve outlined the entire sequence of chapters and have both written parts of those chapters, as well as piled notes into some other chapters that I will at some point transmogrify into writing. I’m an organized person, so I can’t feel comfortable just writing a bit here, not documenting it, and then saving all that for a scramble at the end when I search out sources. I’m writing the book in a similar way as I make a dish from a recipe: the focus is on getting the dish to be successfully made, edible, and delicious, but all along I am cleaning up as I go, putting things in the dishwasher, discarding other things.

I also feel that in the last month or so I’ve found my focus better — that is, I have a clearer idea of what I want this book to be and how I want to carry it out. It’s not just making an excuse for not actually writing when I say that I’ve thought a lot about the book, how I can carry it out, and how I want it to be different from any other biography of Johnson. I’ve gone on road trips with my friend Oscar in the past where we just knew where we were headed — once it was to an exhibit in Kansas, I think it was, that featured art made from insects — but had no plan beyond that. We’d find accommodation where we could, we’d find somewhere to eat when we were hungry. I’m not writing this book like that!

To speak more specifically about what exactly I am doing the last few days … part of the research for the book has involved interviewing scholars and others about a variety of topics related to Johnson and the 18th century. I had all those interviews transcribed over the last couple of months and I’ve also already gone through the transcripts to hilite the parts that I consider particularly germane to my writing. So now I’m reviewing all those hilited parts and organizing them by topic. Once that’s done, I’ll have an overall look at my plan for the chapters and insert the quoted hilites in the appropriate spot for now, so that when I’m actually writing that chapter the topic and the quote will be right there, and I won’t have to wonder along the lines of “didn’t Interviewee X say something about this?” and then scrabble through my email or transcripts or other notes in an effort to track it down.

I’ve discovered a few things as I’ve gone along. One has been that I’ve gathered more than enough information about pornography and prostitution in 18th-century England. I do certainly plan to include that topic in my book, but with the combination of interviews I’ve done and books I’ve read, I really think I’ve got enough. Another thing is that I’ve had to remind myself that I’m not writing a book about life in 18th-century England or London. It’s not a full social history. I don’t need to cover that topic comprehensively, but given my aimed-for readership — the general educated reader — I do want to provide context, and I’ve figured out a way to do that. And finally I’ve learned not to be hard on myself and worry about not getting the book done exactly according to the schedule I had planned/hoped for. I’m on track. I am making progress. I won’t be done in 2020, I don’t think, but neither will it be 2030 nor will I be abandoning it. My interest in it, my feeling of it as a challenge, are both still very strong.

One final note. I’ve taken a break along the way to develop a line of greeting cards which include quotations from Johnson. The idea was, similar to that for the book: not to aim at people who already know a lot about Johnson but rather to design cards that are of interest to anyone who is looking for a greeting card. My tagline is Cards for most occasions or for no occasion at all. Funny and accidentally educational. The latter part refers to the fact that the person who selects a card because they needed one to say thank you to a friend, will only discover afterwards that those words that drew them to the card were in fact written a couple of centuries ago. If you’re interested in checking out what I’ve done, see here.

Hey, thanks for asking!

I’ve completed (with the help of an excellent web design team and of an excellent editor) two activities related to the book.

First, the article. I’ve now sent the final version of an article to the editor of the Transactions of the Johnson Society (Lichfield) and I believe it is slated for early 2021. It’s about 2,500 words. Many thanks for John Winterton, an excellent writer and editor, for his invaluable help in focusing me on the main goal of the article.

Second, the website. I now have a website where I sell greeting cards inspired by quotations from Sam Johnson. Check out It was designed by Lapbaby Designs. This was a lot of fun to do and there are currently 13 cards available [salesman kicks in] for the low, low price of $5.50 each or $50 for the whole set. And free shipping anywhere. I plan to add at least another 10 cards in the coming weeks.

As for the book itself, I’ve been doing reading still and researching. I have done just a little writing in the last month or so partly because of that. But things are still on schedule for a 2021 publication date.

I had an epiphany this week, and definitely a secular one in which neither Jesus nor the Magi played any role. Or at least as far as I know.

As I’ve said over and over again here in these blog postings, I continue to write this bio of Johnson, continue to do research, continue to interview scholars to glean detailed knowledge, and also continue to mull over (or, more accurately, re-mull) just exactly how to put the whole thing together. I had already worked out a structure, but it suddenly came to me how I should make a couple of major changes in the whole of the book that would make it a better thing in the end (I’m not going to reveal those here!). My own experience with writing is often like this. I get a substantial portion done, but then I go through a period where I seem to be languishing, can’t sit down to write because something is gnawing at me telling me that there’s something wrong — and then, well, you know.

It’s a good thing. It certainly doesn’t mean that I have to start over (Jesus and the Magi forbid!), but that some rearrangements have to be made and some rewriting needs to be done.1

I’ve done some reading in the past couple of weeks as well. A little bit was in W. Jackson Bate’s seminal biography of Johnson published in 1975. The other half dozen or so biographies of Johnson that I have at hand are all on my Kindle, but for this one I have to rely on the print copy I bought (gulp) 34 years ago. The other thing which I didn’t really read in-depth, but which I glanced through the pages of as I scanned it

and ultimately posted it online, was the MA thesis I did on Johnson’s Rambler back in 1982 (re-gulp). I of course remembered the two main things I studied in that thesis — the watermarks and countermarks of the first edition issues, which I was able to get luxurious access to at the University of Toronto; and the rhetoric and organization of the essays — but I’d forgotten about other things I’d included, such as a detailed categorization of the Rambler essays, as well as an analysis of the textual differences among the original folio issues, the edition published in 1752, the revised edition published in 1756, and the Yale edition. BTW if you are interested in reading the thesis in all its glory, you can now find it here.

On a smaller scale, as regards the people and the intensity, my unsettled mind as I wanted to write but couldn’t, and then felt bad that I wasn’t writing — it reminds me of the hell that Johnson put himself through as he looked back on a productive year and instead of recalling the accomplishments, focused on all the time he had “wasted.” Ah, Sam — you produced some great work, and I just wish that you had been able to realize that a bit more and been kinder to yourself.

  1. The vagueness and generality here have the tone of how organized crime members communicate their intentions: “I know some people who know some people.”

I am writing my biography of Samuel Johnson at the same time as I ponder between sittings how I should write it. I keep thinking of how to arrange the information, how to incorporate the personal aspects I have planned for the book, and how I write it all for the general reader. I do have the basic structure of the book figured out, I’ve done research, and I’ve done writing, so I do feel that there is a momentum heading forward. I’m often thinking about the book though, which I don’t mean in a bad way — I don’t mean that I’m haunted by it or stressed or blocked.

April 10 was my father’s birthday, but he is dead. I had been estranged from him for over 25 years, but on that day, as I thought about his messy life, and Samuel Johnson’s messy life, and my own work in progress, I wrote the following essay in about a half-hour. The urge to write it was strange and a surprise to me. His birthday usually passes and I may or may not even remember it. This time I did though:

On My Father

As I write this, today would have been my father’s 84th birthday. He spent his work life mostly as a trucker and woodsman and in construction. His marriage to my mother produced three children, my two brothers and me, but it didn’t last long. A couple of years in he chose to leave my mother at Christmas so that he could travel elsewhere in Newfoundland to spend time with his pregnant girlfriend. I was too young to remember the details of how that holiday season transpired for a now single mom with (then) two babies in the early 1960s, but we apparently managed. My mother dashed across the highway that we lived on to get a Christmas tree for us, but was ever vigilant also that we were staying at the living room window watching her and not getting into mischief in the house.

I said that this would have been my father’s birthday because three years ago he committed suicide. By hanging. These are not details that get reported when a person dies like this, or they are alluded to only, with euphemisms such as “died suddenly.” The latter is often code language for suicide, especially when no cause of death is given or speculated on, and you are left scouring the obituary to try to find the cause. If the person is just a slight acquaintance, a name you know – “Oh, my, look, Cliff Jones just died” – you’ll note the age of death given as 81 and be satisfied that it was natural causes, or as they say in Newfoundland, “old age.”

There are still obits and other details about my father online and his life story is sanitized. I particularly bristled at him being “always there to lend a helping hand, whether it was financially or just to give a word of advice. He was someone you could always depend on.” My mother felt differently as she tried to raise children on her own in an era when there were not even the limited social supports that we have in our society now. She had to work but she depended on the $250 a month that he was mandated to give for child support, and when a month or two went by and there was no cheque forthcoming, the 99 cents an hour she made as a waitress at Woolworth’s just didn’t cut it. She had to anxiously contact my father’s brothers and sisters in an effort to prod him to send money which she desperately needed. The so-called helping hand was not always voluntary or dependable.

My father evidently went through some lean times in his own life as well. In the 1980s I was employed full-time as a librarian and I lent him $700. That was a lot of money for me at the time, but he never paid it back either. The last time I talked to him was in the early 1990s and I don’t remember what the reason was for the call, but he or someone else on the line hung up on me.

I took the news of his suicide passively as if I were being told that a distant cousin had died. I had a twinge of sadness later, temporary only, about the sad circumstance of anyone committing suicide. They were suffering from something and either kept it to themselves or nobody noticed.

This isolation and solitude I now experience due to the COVID-19 restrictions have made me more clear-eyed about what is important in life, but also have made me less tolerant of euphemism and the dirty facts that are missing. That’s all. I value possessions and kempt hair less, but I speak up more about the full truth.