A short life of the author
Anthony Hope wrote one of the most purely enjoyable novels in the English language — The Prisoner of Zenda (1894), a tale of swordfights, royal impersonation, and doomed love in a fictional European kingdom that has been in print for over 130 years, filmed at least seven times, and imitated so often that its setting has become a literary archetype. The novel virtually created the genre of “Ruritanian romance” — the adventure story set in an imaginary European principality — and its influence extends from Baroness Orczy’s The Scarlet Pimpernel to John Buchan’s thrillers to the modern political thriller.
The Barrister Who Wrote a Classic
Anthony Hope Hawkins was born in London in 1863, the son of a clergyman and headmaster. He was educated at Marlborough College and Balliol College, Oxford, where he was president of the Union. He was called to the bar in 1887 and practised law at Lincoln’s Inn while writing novels in his spare time. His early books — A Man of Mark (1890), Father Stafford (1891) — attracted little attention.
Then, on 28 November 1893, walking home from Westminster County Court, he conceived the entire plot of The Prisoner of Zenda in a single flash of inspiration. He wrote the novel in a month, and it was published by J.W. Arrowsmith of Bristol in April 1894. The book was an immediate and enormous success.
The Prisoner of Zenda
The plot is a masterpiece of romantic adventure. Rudolf Rassendyll, a red-haired English gentleman, travels to the fictional kingdom of Ruritania for the coronation of King Rudolf V, to whom he bears an uncanny resemblance. When the king is drugged by his villainous half-brother, Black Michael, Rassendyll impersonates the king at the coronation and is drawn into a web of political conspiracy, personal danger, and impossible love — for Princess Flavia, whom he must woo as the king but cannot marry as himself.
The novel’s genius lies in its pacing, its vivid characterisation, and the elegance of its central dilemma. Rassendyll is the ideal romantic hero — brave, witty, honourable, and doomed to sacrifice his happiness for duty. Rupert of Hentzau, Black Michael’s henchman, is one of the great villains of popular fiction — charming, ruthless, and genuinely dangerous. The duels are thrilling. The romance is poignant. The ending — in which Rassendyll and Flavia renounce each other for the sake of the kingdom — has the satisfying bitterness of authentic romantic tragedy.
Rupert of Hentzau and After
Hope wrote a sequel, Rupert of Hentzau (1898), in which the charming villain returns and the story reaches a darker, more violent conclusion. The sequel is well-crafted but lacks the freshness of the original.
Hope’s other novels were competent but never matched Zenda. The Dolly Dialogues (1894), a series of witty society conversations, was popular in its day. Sophy of Kravonia (1906) returned to the Ruritanian setting. The King’s Mirror (1899) explored royal duty and personal desire. But Hope recognised that he had produced a masterpiece on his first attempt and that everything else would be an anticlimax. He was knighted in 1918 for his war service as a propagandist and died in 1933.
Ruritania and Its Influence
The word “Ruritania” — coined by Hope — has entered the English language as a term for any fictional, picturesque, politically unstable small European country. The “Ruritanian romance” became a recognisable subgenre: George Barr McCutcheon’s Graustark (1901), John Buchan’s Dorabella (1923), and numerous lesser imitations followed Hope’s formula. The concept also influenced operetta (Sigmund Romberg’s The Student Prince), film (the seven movie versions of Zenda, most famously the 1937 version with Ronald Colman), and political satire (the Marx Brothers’ Duck Soup).
Collecting Hope
The Prisoner of Zenda (J.W. Arrowsmith, Bristol, 1894) in first edition with the original pictorial cloth binding is a key title of late Victorian popular fiction. The book went through numerous editions and printings; true first editions are identified by the Arrowsmith imprint and specific binding details. Rupert of Hentzau (1898) in first edition is also collected. First editions of both novels are uncommon in fine condition, as the books were read to pieces by enthusiastic readers.