Focusing particularly on the work of painter and critic Roger Fry, critic Clive Bell, novelist and essayist Virginia Woolf, and literary theorist I. A. Richards, the final chapter considers the legacy of evolutionary aestheticism in the first decades of the twentieth century. Although these twentieth-century writers rejected the developmental telos that defined nineteenth-century evolutionary aestheticism, this chapter argues that they inherited many of their predecessors’ ideas about the anti-utilitarian ethics of beauty, the spiritual potency of aesthetic pleasure, and, consequently, the long-term social benefits of good taste. By drawing a through line from mid nineteenth-century evolutionary aesthetics to the aesthetics of the Bloomsbury group and the principles of New Criticism, this chapter also contributes to a body of recent scholarship reassessing conventional narratives about modernism and its purportedly radical break from Victorian concerns and values.

The introduction contextualises the study of Bloomsbury’s beasts in two ways. First, it reflects on strategies for close reading of literary animals and accounts for the emergence and acceleration of modernist animal studies, a subfield that explores links between modernist literature and animality of various stripes; it explains, too, how Bloomsbury can be read as part of modernism’s animal turn while adding an intensified focus on both imaginative transformations and material encounters between human and nonhuman species. Second, in order to show how questions concerning the nonhuman were embedded in the group’s conceptualisation of the human, it provides an overview of how ’beastliness’ (and related terms used in this study) enters the group’s discourse through the different conceptualisations of ‘civilisation’ articulated by its key figures.

By 1920, according to the poet Bryher, ‘all literary London’ had ‘discovered Freud’ – but not all of those discoverers were fans. In a 1920 review of what she called ‘Freudian Fiction’, Virginia Woolf complained that ‘all the characters have become cases’. Writing in 1922, T. S. Eliot complained similarly of the reductive vision of a new ‘psychoanalytic type’ of novel that claimed to lay bare ‘the soul of man under psychoanalysis’. Tracking both the explicit interactions and the submerged engagements between British writers and psychoanalysis between 1900 and 1920, this chapter argues not only that writers and psychoanalysts in this period held a shared interest in representing what Woolf termed the ‘dark region’ of human psychology, but that psychoanalytic thinking about the unconscious is crucial for understanding the formal innovations of modernist writing in Britain in the early decades of the twentieth century. Beginning with a sketch of the interactions between modernism and psychoanalysis in the early years of this period, it goes on to explore the strange affinities between Freud’s theory of the psyche and modernist formal innovations in both prose and poetry.