Explore the vast range of titles available.

Verney Lovett Cameron (1844–1894) has now lapsed into relative obscurity, but in the late nineteenth century he was among the premiere British explorers, having established his credentials by completing a transcontinental African expedition (1872–76) from present-day Tanzania to Angola. This article, however, focuses on Cameron's status as the most prolific of a range of explorers who turned to the affordances of prose fiction. Imaginative literature provided supplements or alternatives to the expeditionary narrative that operated outside the parameters of institutional science and were not regulated by the same protocols. Drawing on Gérard Genette's narrative taxonomy of the “sequel” and the “serious transposition,” I argue that Cameron's fiction extended his preoccupations with “commercial geography” and private enterprise while also opening the way to surprising alternative conceptualizations of geographical travel. The Adventures of Herbert Massey (1887) uses fictional adventure to invite capitalist venture and specifically to advertise East Africa as amenable to administration by chartered company. The highly esoteric plot of The Queen's Land (1886), by contrast, offers a geographical allegory that at once celebrates the explorer's expertise and casts expeditions as the source of secret knowledge.

Explores how Livingstone has been represented in diverse ways and put to work in a variety of socio-political contexts.David Livingstone, the ‘missionary-explorer’, has attracted more commentary than nearly any other Victorian hero. Beginning in the years following his death, he soon became the subject of a major biographical tradition. Yet out of this extensive discourse, no unified image of Livingstone emerges. Rather, he has been represented in diverse ways and in a variety of socio-political contexts. Until now, no one has explored Livingstone’s posthumous reputation in full. This book meets the challenge. In approaching Livingstone’s complex legacy, it adopts a metabiographical perspective: in other words, this book is a biography of biographies. Rather than trying to uncover the true nature of the subject, metabiography is concerned with the malleability of biographical representation. It does not aim to uncover Livingstone’s ‘real’ identity, but instead asks: what has he been made to mean? Crossing disciplinary boundaries, Livingstone’s 'lives' will interest scholars of imperial history, postcolonialism, life-writing, travel-writing and Victorian studies.

Livingstone Online is a digital museum and library that provides a global audience with public access to the vast written and visual legacies of David Livingstone (1813–1873), the British Victorian explorer of Africa. The site’s manuscripts span Livingstone’s adult life, ranging from family correspondence written in the 1830s to the field diaries of the 1870s composed in the Congo Basin. Additional illustrations, photographs, and other materials encompass nearly two centuries of relevant historical and contemporary sources. Over the course of Livingstone Online’s fifteen-year development, the project has made significant contributions to scholarly conversations and public knowledge about British imperial history and African history, and has become a leader in the field in developing best practices for the digitization and digital publication of manuscript material and images from the ‘global south’. In February 2020 three members of the project team gathered online to discuss the site’s latest edition — Livingstone’s Missionary Travels Manuscript (1857) — and the wider development of Livingstone Online as a nineteenth-century digital humanities project over the last decade and a half. Adrian Wisnicki (University of Nebraska-Lincoln) is the director of Livingstone Online; Kate Simpson (University of Glasgow) is an Associate Project Scholar who has contributed to each of the site’s critical editions; and Justin Livingstone (Queen’s University Belfast) is the joint director (with Wisnicki) of Livingstone’s Missionary Travels Manuscript (1857).

It is Tuesday, 27 January 1874, and a telegram from her Majesty's Acting Consul-General at Zanzibar reaches the Foreign Office, reporting news of the death of Dr. David Livingstone. An incredulous British public struggles to disbelieve and discredit the account. Months later and, after an agonizing delay, the Peninsular and Oriental Company's steamship Malwa arrives, bearing a broken and wizened body to port in Southampton. Waiting is a public throng, in mourning for its national hero. Later he is laid to rest in a chockablock Westminster Abbey, a public symbol of the national interest vested in Livingstone (See Figure 1).

In November 1857, David Livingstone’sMissionary Travels and Researches in South Africa, published by the renowned John Murray, was released to an eager British public. The text, consisting of almost 700 pages, was immediately met with rapturous response not least for its breadth and scope of content. As theLeeds Mercuryput it, the book seemed to add ‘as many facts and thoughts new to the European world as have ever before been compressed within that compass’.¹ Indeed, for theGlasgow Herald, Missionary Travelswas the ‘book of the season’, if not what theCaledonian Mercurycalled ‘the work of

John Updike reportedly once remarked that biographies are nothing but ‘novels with indexes’.¹ This delightfully scathing quip epitomises a certain sense that biography is a spurious enterprise, a genre to be defined in terms of its limits, and best approached with a healthy dose of suspicion. Even where it has not been brushed aside with quite such dismissive disregard, it is notable that biography has not been the subject of serious critical examination until fairly recently. The result is that, for those now writing on the subject, it has become almost axiomatic to pass comment on its lack of theorisation.

Who was the real David Livingstone? This is a question I have aimed to render problematic. The complexity and multifaceted nature of his posthumous identity reveals the extent to which the matter defies easy resolution. While the issue of Livingstone’s true essence may continue to be worth pursuing, it is something that I have resolutely set to one side in the course of this project. Since Stanley met Livingstone with the words, ‘Dr. Livingstone, I presume?’, his biographers have routinely ‘presumed’ knowledge and command over his identity. He has been an occupied space, and I have sought to resist the