This week, we are pleased to feature a guest post from Stephanie Kingsley, a second-year Master’s student in the English Department at the University of Virginia.  Ms. Kingsley specializes in colonial and 19th-century American literature, textual studies, and digital humanities.  She plans to work in publishing and digital archives after her graduation in May 2014.

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When I set out to find a literary work to edit for David Vander Meulen’s “Introduction to Scholarly Editing and Textual Criticism” course, I knew early on that I wanted to choose one which would allow me to utilize materials in the Albert and Shirley Small Special Collections Library.  I wanted to do an authoritative edition—an edition which established the author’s final intention for his or her work—and I knew that manuscript materials would be central to such a project.  Little did I know that when I set this restriction on my choice, I would later be embarking on a full-blown bibliographical investigation.

I ultimately settled on Virginia author Ellen Glasgow.  Many of Glasgow’s manuscripts, correspondence, and notes have come to reside in Special Collections, alongside those of many other Virginia writers; hence, I knew I would have wonderful resources at my fingertips in the course of the semester.  After examining which works Special Collections had in manuscript, I selected In This Our Life, Glasgow’s final published novel, for my editorial project.

Photograph of Ellen Glasgow (1938) taken for her book The Woman Within (MSS 5060. Photograph by Petrina Jackson. Published with the Permission of the Ellen Glasgow Estate)

Ellen Glasgow was born in 1893, lived in Richmond all her life, and died in 1945.  Glasgow is considered one of the most important Southern regionalist authors.  Her novels address issues of class, gender, and race, hearkening back to the traditions of the agrarian Old South while acknowledging the advent of industrialism.  Glasgow’s eighteenth and final novel, In This Our Life, focuses on a previously wealthy aristocratic family, the Timberlakes, as they sustain financial and family turmoil.  For Glasgow, the family signifies both the changing times experienced by two distinct generations and man’s capacity never to accept defeat.  Also prominent are issues of race, and special attention is given to the black Clay family serving the Timberlakes.  In This Our Life garnered Glasgow the 1942 Pulitzer Prize for the Novel and was made into a film starring Bette Davis by Warner Brothers that same year.  Belying these successes, the novel had a rocky beginning.  Glasgow began planning it in 1935 and completed two drafts between 1939 and 1940, during which time she suffered a series of heart attacks.  In her autobiography, Glasgow describes being able to write only 15 to 30 minutes a day during her illness, and in her preface to the novel, Glasgow laments not being able to complete a third draft as she usually did.  Despite these hardships, Glasgow wrote, rewrote, and closely oversaw details of book design, jacket description, and publicity.  In This Our Life was finally published in March 1941.

First Edition of In This Our Life, Harcourt Brace, 1941. (PS3513 .L34I5. Clifton Waller Barrett Library of American Literature. Image by Petrina Jackson)

I felt that with such a fraught publication history, In This Our Life could surely use editorial work to determine whether Glasgow’s final intentions actually made it into the published novel.  My first step was to consult the extensive Glasgow bibliography compiled by William W. Kelly in 1968 for the Bibliographical Society of Virginia.  Kelly provides bibliographical descriptions of the early editions of Glasgow’s works, an in-depth history for each, and a list of manuscript materials available in Special Collections, many of which I would consult while preparing my edition.

Portrait of James Branch Cabell, 1930. (RG-30/1/10.11) University of Virginia Visual History Collection. Online.

Kelly identifies an intriguing mystery in the publication history of In This Our Life.  According to Glasgow’s close friend and fellow author James Branch Cabell, while she was ill during the late stages of writing In This Our Life, Cabell assisted by editing the typescript:

And now, upon the brink of triumph [winning the Pulitzer Prize], she was not bodily able to finish, or rather, to put into any acceptable shape, a final draft of the book which would ensure this distinction.

 

So I remedied affairs by doing this revising for her, in chief out of love and friendship and my honest sympathy, but in some part out of the derisive pleasure which I got from knowing that at long last I was completing a Pulitzer prize winner.

 

For this reasons then did I more than gladly give over some three or four months to In This Our Life, or to be more accurate, the afternoons of these months, because, in the mornings of them, I was drafting The First Gentleman of America….

 

…twice a week I would visit Ellen Glasgow’s sick chamber at about four o’clock in the afternoon, so as to show her what changes and slight amendments I was making in her text; and she, propped up in bed, wan and emaciated but as vigorous of mind as ever, would applaud them for the most part.  She balked now and then, however, and as I thought ill-advisedly, over what she took to be a touch of the too frivolous or of the slightly risqué; for to my finding, this novel required a deal of animating; but meekly I would shrug and accept her mandates as to what, after all, was going to be her book, and not mine….

 

And after that, I would kiss her cheek and depart with a fresh batch of typescript for me to revise and to make tidy during the next three or four days.  (Cabell, As I Remember It, 222-23)

Glasgow herself never mentions these revisions in either the preface to the novel or her autobiography.  She recounts that Cabell spent hours by her bedside reading the typescript but says nothing of his editing.  Furthermore, in the course of writing his bibliography, Kelly interviewed Glasgow’s secretary and companion, Anne Bennett, who called Cabell’s account a lie and said that he did not see the book until it was in page proofs.  I decided to examine the typescript itself, over four hundred typewritten pages used by the printer to set the galleys, to see if it might offer any clues.  And so my work Under Grounds began.

A sample leaf, page 499, from the typescript for In This Our Life (MSS 5060. Image by Petrina Jackson. Published with the Permission of the Ellen Glasgow Estate)

As the typescript was central to my editorial work, I set out to confirm that it and the revisions on it could be considered authoritative.  Revisions included reworked passages in type and minor punctuation corrections in pencil.  Because the most extensive edits were in type, I assumed that if Cabell did edit the typescript, he did so with his typewriter.  At the recommendation of Professor Vander Meulen, I proceeded to compare types in hopes of identifying distinct typists.

The first problem with respect to typescript authority was the matter of who typed the typescript.  In her letters, Glasgow describes it as a fair copy transcribed by Anne Bennett.  By comparing the types of the running text and revisions to other Glasgow materials, such as pre-draft notes and earlier page states, I was able to identify two different typewriters involved: the one responsible for the running text was Bennett’s, and the revisions were by Glasgow’s.

Detail of page 499 of In This Our Life’s final draft typescript. An example of type revisions made on Glasgow’s typewriter can be seen on the first line of the page. Notice how the “t” in “the” has a wider bottom than the “t” in “want” in the line of running text below. The wide “t” was a distinguishing feature of Glasgow’s typewriter, while the narrow “t” was characteristic of Bennett’s. It appears that the two women had the same sort of typewriter, but subtle variations in type such as these enabled me to differentiate. (MSS 5060. Image by Petrina Jackson. Published with the Permission of the Ellen Glasgow Estate)

Detail of leaf one of Glasgow’s pre-draft notes for In This Our Life. Notice how the “t’s” on Glasgow’s notes are wide. As Glasgow herself would have authored the notes, I compared types from them to the final draft typescript in order to identify Glasgow’s typewriter. (MSS 5060. Image by Petrina Jackson. Published with the Permission of the Ellen Glasgow Estate)

It appears that Glasgow’s habit was to type earlier drafts herself and then have Anne Bennett prepare fair copies for further revision.  Thus, type comparison enabled me to reconstruct the process of Bennett’s transcription and Glasgow’s revision.  I also could conclude that Cabell did not make these type revisions in his afternoon editing sessions at home.  However, I was still not perfectly satisfied with respect to the Cabell editorial mystery.  Nor could my findings account for the pencil markings occasionally deleting or inserting commas.  Lastly, I still had utterly competing secondary accounts.  I decided to describe the question as an open case in the introduction to my edition, and thus finish my project.

A few days before I was to turn in my edition, I found that—like any good student of bibliography—I was still perturbed by those pencil corrections.  I felt that I was missing something, so I descended Under Grounds for another look.  After several weeks away from the typescript, a fresh glance revealed that the minor pencil corrections were not the only handwriting on the typescript: remnants of erased handwriting could be discerned throughout, editing not only for punctuation and capitalization but also for wording.  I was astounded.  I had been assuming all along that Cabell had edited with a typewriter, if at all, and had never considered written corrections, simply because with the exception of a few commas and stray words, they had been utterly obliterated.

I knew what I had to do. Cabell mentioned working on The First Gentleman of America while editing In This Our Life, and as it turned out, Special Collections also had the typescript for this work—with written revisions in Cabell’s hand!  The night before my edition was due, I was in Special Collections again examining the handwriting on the two typescripts, and after scouring the Glasgow pages for writing which was clear enough for comparison to Cabell’s hand, I concluded that the hand was indeed his.  In the photographs below of the two authors’ typescripts, you’ll easily discern that the handwriting is from the same person.

Detail of page 382 of the final draft typescript of In This Our Life, page 382. (MSS 5060. Image by Petrina Jackson. Published with the Permission of the Ellen Glasgow Estate)

Detail of Cabell’s First Gentleman of America typescript, page 1. (MSS 5618. Image by Petrina Jackson)

It appears that Cabell revised the typescript in pencil; then after he, Glasgow and Harcourt-Brace had decided this draft was ready to go to the printer, Glasgow went back, reviewed and retyped Cabell’s revisions, and erased his handwriting—probably in an effort to make the revisions as clear as possible for the printer.

Page 489 of In This Our Life typescript. See how the word “Just” is handwritten, erased, and then typewritten. (MSS 5060.  Image by Petrina Jackson. Published with the Permission of the Ellen Glasgow Estate)

From reading what little handwriting remains, it appears that Glasgow did approve and adopt most of Cabell’s revisions.  She also added revisions of her own, apparently using preparation for the printer as an opportunity to do final revisions which she had not gotten to do before.  Another possibility, however, is that Cabell sat by Glasgow’s bedside and, while reading his changes to her, typed over his handwriting with Glasgow’s typewriter for the same purpose: to make it clear for the printer.  This part of the typescript’s history yet remains obscured, and a scholar of both Glasgow and Cabell’s literature would need to analyze the places where the type revisions deviate from the handwritten ones to judge whether they were more likely the result of the two authors’ collaboration or Glasgow’s emendations alone.  This typescript has revealed much and may yet have more to say about the relationship of these two authors and their creative process.  It simply takes an intrepid spirit sallying forth into Special Collections to make it speak!

Stephanie Kingsley in front of the Special Collections Vault, 2013 (Photograph by Petrina Jackson)

This week, we are pleased to feature a guest post from U.Va. alum (CLAS ’12) and Special Collections volunteer Emma Whittington:

Tucked neatly into 94 boxes housed in the Albert and Shirley Small Special Collections Library reside the fragments of the life of a man that many people — all over the world — know more about than they might think. Postcards, documents marked “Top Secret,” notes written on Buckingham Palace stationery, drafts of novels, and hundreds of photo negatives make up the archive of one of the most fascinating Brits of the 20^th century. His name is Maclean, Fitzroy Maclean. And he is widely believed to be one of the inspirations for Ian Fleming’s famous character, James Bond.

An identification tag from the UK delegation to a NATO Parliamentarians Conference, undated. (MSS 11487. Photo by Molly Schwartzburg)

Maclean was a Scottish soldier, politician, diplomat, author, and pundit who traveled extensively throughout his career, spending time in London, Paris, Moscow, Cairo, Yugoslavia, and almost everywhere in between. Quickly promoted up the ranks in all of the many positions he held, Maclean is remembered for his adventurous spirit and contributions to British allied efforts during WWII, numerous books (spy novels, biographies, and autobiographies), extensive travel reporting to the government from remote parts of Central Asia, and numerous friendships with such people as Winston Churchill, Josip Broz ‘Tito,’ Prince Charles, and the Queen Mother herself.

The University of Virginia Library acquired his papers in 1998, and they have been accessible to researchers ever since.  The collection, which contains correspondence, manuscripts, typescripts, newspapers, memorabilia, and many other kinds of artifacts, vividly tells the story of one man’s rise to the upper ranks of the British Foreign Service through talent, determination, and a sense of adventure.

One of many photographs of Maclean from across the scope of his lengthy career. This one dates approximately from the Second World War. (MSS 11487. Photo by Molly Schwartzburg)

Early career letters paint the portrait of a confident, adept worker—for example, a letter from an official with the British Foreign Service addressed to Maclean’s father praises the boy as quicker than other staff members and one to watch out for. Later letters talk of Maclean’s reassignments: first to Paris, then to Moscow—where he was given just under a year to master Russian in his own free time and on his own dime. Maclean did just that, and his skilled reporting on the political climate in Russia brought him recognition from British officials of the highest order. Winston Churchill himself decided in 1943 that Maclean would be dropped into Bosnia by parachute to work as the British representative to Yugoslavian dictator Josip Broz Tito. There, Maclean befriended the Dictator, reporting back to Churchill that Tito should receive British support for his anti-German war efforts. Maclean’s hard work in Yugoslavia remains one of his best-known legacies, and his original, Top Secret reports provide a first-hand look at his determined work ethic. The memos, written in a journalistic style and sent out as reports to the British government, helped British officials understand the culture and political climate of the area where Maclean was stationed. This was crucial work during the Cold War era, as Tito has been considered the brainpower behind the Non-Aligned Movement (NAM), a group of states which deemed itself “outside” either of the major Cold War power blocs. Maclean’s understanding of the Yugoslavian nation and mindset better informed Western Bloc leaders of how best to interact with the NAM’s most prominent member.

One of the many previously classified files in the Maclean Papers relating to his work in Yugoslavia; this one concerns the” military and political situation in Serbia,” ca. 1943-1945. (MSS 11487. Photo by Molly Schwartzburg)

A snapshot of Tito (left),and Fitzroy Maclean (center left), with two other unidentified figures, ca. 1940s. (MSS 11487. Photo by Molly Schwartzburg).

It is this same dutiful—and adventurous—spirit which has lead many to believe Maclean was the inspiration for Bond. Well, that and the fact Maclean and Ian Fleming were close personal friends. Their relationship is one of many stories told through the Papers. A photo of Maclean’s shows Fleming casually stirring a cup of coffee on a lazy afternoon in the countryside together (Box 79). Two letters from Fleming focus on Maclean’s own endeavors as a writer (he published the very successful, autobiographical book Eastern Approaches in 1949—four years before Fleming would publish his first Bond novel, Casino Royale). One of the letters, sent to Approaches publisher Jonathan Cape, shows that Fleming had read Maclean’s book carefully. He writes that Parts I & II of Approaches are “beautifully written and of absorbing interest,” and continues by advising Maclean to cut out sections in which he feels the Brigadier comes off too pompously. He concludes:

It is such a magnificent book and I have so much admiration and affection for Fitzroy that I would like him to avoid the criticisms which he will get from many who don’t know him as well as I do.

If it would be any help please don’t hesitate to show him this letter. I have no hesitation in being cruel with the intention of being kind!

Alas, I expect it is too late.

Yours ever,

IAN.

The letter shows that Fleming was not only acquainted with the details of Maclean’s personal life, he was fascinated by it. Perhaps fascinated enough that some of Maclean’s adventures seeped their way into Fleming’s own novels?

If James Bond ever grew old, he might look like this. In this 1983 snapshot, Maclean speaks to a reporter about his work in Yugoslavia. (MSS 11487. Photo by Molly Schwartzburg)

Of course, if we are to believe that Maclean was an inspiration for the character James Bond, his records should be chock-full of examples of a glamorous and cosmopolitan life. No “International Man of Mystery” archive could be complete without signed autographs from movie stars and personal thank you notes from the Queen Mother herself. It seems that Lauren Bacall actually introduced Maclean to a well-known American whiskey, writing on a small autograph card: “Here is that Jack Daniels I promised you — perhaps you will become addicted to it as I have. Enjoy it.” Did the ‘real’ Bond prefer bourbon and ginger to the infamous ‘martini, shaken not stirred’?

Letters and invitations to Maclean from members of the Royal Family. (MSS 11487. photograph by Molly Schwartzburg)

Also fascinating are several invitations from Prince Charles to come over for tea, and handwritten notes from Queen Elizabeth thanking him for the gift of a rhododendron plant and one of his very own ‘spy story’ collections, Take Nine Spies. In Box 4 of the Papers, on a handwritten note dated July 17^th, 1978, the Queen Mother writes:

Dear Sir Fitzroy, It was so very kind of you to give me a copy of your absorbing and fascinating book, “Take Nine Spies,” and I have enjoyed reading it more than any book that I have read for years. What research it must have entailed, the dates and the details and the personalities are legion, making each spy story unwind better than the most exciting detective thriller — what an anxious and desperate life it must be, to be a spy! They none of them seem to be at all happy! Thank you so much indeed for your kindness in giving me such a delightful gift, and for giving me such pleasure. With my love to Veronica, and I hope that you will both come again to Royal Lodge, I am, ever yours sincerely, Elizabeth R

As fun as it is to sleuth-out whether Bond is based on the real-life Maclean, there’s not too much detective work that needs to be done: The Papers’ impressive breadth tells the story well. The real value of the Papers is the insight they provide into an era contemporary historians continue to study with avid interest. Such a vast source of primary documents and once-classified information is of high value as we continue to evaluate and analyze the legacy of The Cold War. With Cold War-era motifs like espionage being continually showcased in today’s pop culture—think Archer, Mad Men, and the latest Bond installment, Skyfall—it’s truly impressive to be able to learn about a real-life soldier whose quick wit and hard work brought him adventure in a time of great political strife. Professor, scholar, historian, and pop culture junkie alike will find something of interest in the paper trail left behind by one Sir Fitzroy Maclean.

-Emma Whittington, CLAS ‘12