Patron’s Choice: Ellen Glasgow, James Branch Cabell, and a Manuscript Mystery Solved

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 by from her book The Woman Within (MSS 5060. Photograph by Petrina Jackson)

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 by Ellen Glasgow. (PS3513 .L34I5. Clifton Waller Barrett Library of American Literature. Image by Petrina Jackson)

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.

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)

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 fo 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 Image by Petrina Jackson.)

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 themto the final draft typescript in order to identify Glasgow's typewriter. (MSS . Image by Petrina Jackson)

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)

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 . Image by Petrina Jackson)

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. (Image by Petrina Jackson)

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!

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

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

ABCs of Special Collections: L is for…

And we are back with the letter:

Jack London's signature, highlighting the letter "L" in his last name. Letter to Max Feckler from Jack London, October 26, 1914

Jack London’s signature, highlighting the letter “L” in his last name. The signature is from his letter to Max Feckler, October 26, 1914 (MSS 6240. Clifton Waller Barrett Library of American Literature. Image by Caroline Newcomb)

L is for James Laughlin
While studying poetry with Ezra Pound in Italy, the poet told him, “You’re never going to be any good as a poet. Why don’t you take up something useful?” Laughlin returned to Harvard in 1936, and founded New Directions, a publishing enterprise he started in his dorm room with help from his family’s fortune. New Directions evolved into a highly prestigious avant-garde press, publishing works by Gertrude Stein, William Carlos Williams, James Joyce, Ezra Pound, Elizabeth Bishop, and many others. Laughlin did manage to publish a number of books of his own poetry, as well. An author search of our online catalog shows 35 hits related to Mr. Laughlin, and over 500 for New Directions publications. The press is still in operation today.

Contributed by George Riser, Collections and Instruction Assistant

James Laughlin Selected Poems, 1935–1985.’ City Light Books, 1986. (PS3523. A8245A6 1986. Marvin Tatum Collection of Contemporary Literature. Image by Caroline Newcomb)

James Laughlin Selected Poems, 1935–1985.’ City Light Books, 1986. (PS3523. A8245A6 1986. Marvin Tatum Collection of Contemporary Literature. Image by Caroline Newcomb)

Henry Miller’s The Cosmological Eye. New Directions, 1939. The eye in the cloud is James Laughlin’s left eye. (PS3525 I5454 C6. Clifton Waller Barrett Library of American Literature. Image by Caroline Newcomb)

Henry Miller’s The Cosmological Eye. New Directions, 1939. The eye in the cloud is James Laughlin’s left eye. (PS3525 I5454 C6. Clifton Waller Barrett Library of American Literature. Image by Caroline Newcomb)

L is for Little Red Riding Hood
In 2007, Special Collections received as a gift from Martha Orr Davenport her marvelous collection of books and artifacts related to the tale of Little Red Riding Hood.  There are approximately  480 books, 100 pieces of print ephemera, 50 works of art, ten magic lantern slides, and  more than a hundred objects, including tableware, figurines, vases, pottery, tiles, crystal, glass, cloth, dolls, puppets, tinware, prints, and recordings.

Contributed by Molly Schwartzburg, Curator

Clockwise from top left, these Reds Riding Hoods appear in the following books, which are not yet cataloged: "Little Red Riding Hood, (London: Tuck, [1890]); "Les Contes de Perrault" (Paris: Librairie de Theodore Lefevre, n.d.); "Walter Crane's Toy Books: Little Red Riding Hood" ([London]: George Routledge, n.d.); "Rotkappchen" (n.p: n.p., n.d.). [xx(6134166.1). Photograph collage by Molly Schwartzburg]

Clockwise from top left, these Reds Riding Hoods appear in the following books, which are not yet cataloged: “Little Red Riding Hood, (London: Tuck, [1890]); “Les Contes de Perrault” (Paris: Librairie de Theodore Lefevre, n.d.); “Walter Crane’s Toy Books: Little Red Riding Hood” ([London]: George Routledge, n.d.); “Rotkappchen” (n.p: n.p., n.d.). [xx(6134166.1). Photograph collage by Molly Schwartzburg]

Clockwise from top left, these wolves appear in the following books, which are not yet cataloged: "Rotkappchen" (n.p: n.p., n.d.); "Tales of Passed Times Written for Children by Mr. Perrault and Newly Decorated by John Austen" (London: Selwyn and Bount, 1922);  "Little Red Riding Hood, (London: Tuck, [1890]); "Walter Crane's Toy Books: Little Red Riding Hood" ([London]: George Routledge, n.d.).

Clockwise from top left, these wolves appear in the following books, which are not yet cataloged: “Rotkappchen” (n.p: n.p., n.d.); “Tales of Passed Times Written for Children by Mr. Perrault and Newly Decorated by John Austen” (London: Selwyn and Bount, 1922);  “Little Red Riding Hood, (London: Tuck, [1890]); “Walter Crane’s Toy Books: Little Red Riding Hood” ([London]: George Routledge, n.d.). [xx(6134166.1). Photograph collage by Molly Schwartzburg]

L is for Jack London
In our collections are some notable items of the American author Jack London (1876-1916), who is best known for his book, The Call of the Wild and the short story, “To Build A Fire.” Among our materials are the typescript of his novel, The Sea Wolf, with his handwritten corrections, and two boxes of lively letters, illustrating the nature of his life as an adventurer and writer. This letter to a young man who has sent London a copy of his story is harsh but humorous, but in the end, offers good advice for a burgeoning writer. He ends with an invitation to visit him in California, “on the ranch.”

Contributed by Anne Causey, Public Services Assistant

Signed photograph of Jack London, ca.1907-1908, , box 2, folder 39 Photo taken on board the Snark, the sailboat upon which he cruised the South Pacific for 27 months with his wife Charmian. (MSS 6240. Clifton Waller Barrett Library of American Literature. Image by Caroline Newcomb)

Signed photograph of Jack London, ca.1907-1908. Photo taken on board the Snark, the sailboat upon which he cruised the South Pacific for 27 months with his wife Charmian. (MSS 6240. Clifton Waller Barrett Library of American Literature. Image by Caroline Newcomb)

Typescript of Jack London's The Sea Wolf with autograph corrections, page

Typescript of Jack London’s The Sea Wolf with autograph corrections, page 136. (MSS 6240. Clifton Waller Barrett Library of American Literature. Image by Caroline Newcomb)

Letter to Max Feckler, October 26, 1914, MSS 6240, box 2, folder23 This letter shows the lively tone of many of London's letters, although this one is much longer, more detailed and more impassioned. Here, he is advising a young writer to improve his skill and learn the market before he sends out a story.

Letter to Max Feckler from Jack London, October 26, 1914. This letter shows the lively tone of many of London’s letters, although this one is much longer, more detailed and more impassioned. Here, he is advising a young writer to improve his skill and learn the market before he sends out a story. (MSS 6240. Clifton Waller Barrett Library of American Literature. Image by Caroline Newcomb)

(MSS 6240. Clifton Waller Barrett Library of American Literature. Image by Caroline Newcomb)

Page 2 of letter to Max Feckler from Jack London, October 26, 1914. (MSS 6240. Clifton Waller Barrett Library of American Literature. Image by Caroline Newcomb)

From “L” to “M,” see what our next letter selections will be in a couple of weeks when the ABCs of Special Collections continues.

This Just In: Growing the Gothic

Regular readers will know of our fondness for the English Gothic novel, and our pride in the recent bequest of the Maurice Lévy Collection of French Gothic (described in two recent blog posts). We have now acquired a key edition—the rare first edition in French (Lausanne, 1787) of William Beckford’s Vathek—which nicely links the Lévy Collection with its progenitor, the unparalleled Sadleir-Black Gothic Novel Collection housed under Grounds in the Small Special Collections Library.

Title page of the second published edition (and the first printing of  the original French text) of William Beckford's Vathek. Lausanne: Isaac Hignou, 1787.  (PR4091 .V39 1787)

Title page of the second published edition (and the first printing of the original French text) of William Beckford’s Vathek. Lausanne: Isaac Hignou, 1787. (PR4091 .V39 1787)

One of the earliest, and now one of the most widely read English Gothic novels, Vathek has a complicated textual history. In a very important sense it is not even an English novel, for when Beckford composed the text in 1782, he did so in French! Indeed, Beckford never prepared an English translation of his best known work. Rather, most readers have encountered Vathek in the English translation (or in translations of this translation) prepared by the Rev. Samuel Henley, sometime professor at the College of William and Mary in Williamsburg, Virginia.

The first page of the Rev. Samuel Henley's translation, from the first edition of Vathek, published under the title, An Arabian Tale. London: J. Johnson, 1786.  (PR 4091 .V4 1786)

The first page of the Rev. Samuel Henley’s translation, from the first edition of Vathek, published under the title, An Arabian Tale. London: J. Johnson, 1786. (PR 4091 .V4 1786)

Born in 1745 in Devon, Henley was recruited in 1770 for the faculty of William and Mary, where he taught moral philosophy. Popular with his students—who included James Madison and James Monroe—Henley also formed strong friendships with prominent Virginians such as George Wythe and Thomas Jefferson. The looming clouds of war prompted Henley’s return to England in 1775, where he accepted a teaching position at Harrow School. By 1783 Henley had entered the intellectual circle of William Beckford, who entrusted him with translating the as yet unpublished Vathek into English. But Beckford, distracted in part by a scandal which necessitated an extended sojourn in Switzerland, insisted that Henley’s version remain unpublished until he saw fit to publish the original French text.

And for comparison, the first page of Beckford's French text, as it appeared in the Lausanne, 1787 edition.

And for comparison, the first page of Beckford’s French text, as it appeared in the Lausanne, 1787 edition.

Disobeying Beckford’s wishes, Henley instead sent his translation to the press. Published in London in 1786 as An Arabian tale, Henley not only concealed Beckford’s authorship but pretended that the work was translated from an “Arabick” source. When the news reached Beckford in Lausanne, he was furious. Placing the original manuscript in the hands of a Swiss friend, Beckford directed that his French be corrected where necessary and the text rushed into print. The latter request was easier to meet than the former: the novel was published early in 1787 at Lausanne as Vathek, but with Beckford’s faulty French little improved. Today the Lausanne edition is very rare and, because Beckford’s manuscript no longer survives, remains our closest witness to the text as originally written. In subsequent editions, Beckford continued to tinker with both the French text and Henley’s translation, creating an interesting challenge for the textual editor.

The Small Special Collections Library possesses two copies of the London, 1786 edition. One is in a fine binding with distinguished provenance. The other, rather shabby copy is even more interesting, for it bears the contemporary wood-engraved label--by Thomas Bewick, no less!--of Humble's Circulatign Library in Newcastle.

The Small Special Collections Library possesses two copies of the London, 1786 edition. One is in a fine binding with distinguished provenance. Despite its rather shabby appearance, the other copy is even more interesting, for it bears the contemporary wood-engraved label–by Thomas Bewick, no less!–of Humble’s Circulating Library in Newcastle.

ABCs of Special Collections: K is for…

We are almost at the half-way mark with today’s letter:

K is for "1908" Classic "Plug," which is one of 75 alphabets represented in Frank H. Atkinson’s Atkinson Sign Painting up to Now: A Complete Manual of Sign Painting. Chicago: Frederick J. Drake & Co., 1915 (not yet catalogued. Gift of Nicholas Curtis. (Photograph by Petrina Jackson)

K is for “1908” Classic “Plug,” which is one of 75 alphabets represented in Frank H. Atkinson’s Atkinson Sign Painting up to Now: A Complete Manual of Sign Painting. Chicago: Frederick J. Drake & Co., 1915 (not yet catalogued. Gift of Nicholas Curtis. Photograph by Petrina Jackson)

K is for Franz Kafka (1883-1924)

Best known for The Metamorphosis (1915), Franz Kafka is arguably one of the most influential writers of the 20th-century. In 1908, his first eight stories were published in Hyperion, a bi-monthly magazine.  During his lifetime, his works Meditation (1913), The Country Doctor (1916), and Letters to His Father (1919) were published.  However, many of Kafka’s novels were published posthumously and include A Hunger Artist (1924), The Trial (1925); The Castle (1926), and Amerika (1927).

We have Paul E. Rieger, U.Va. Class of 1955, to thank for our Kafka collection.   In 1980, the Ohio native donated his collection of 300 books by and about Franz Kafka to the Library. The gift includes German, British, and American first editions, first appearances in periodicals, opera scores, and criticisms.

Contributed by Anne Causey, Public Services Assistant

Cover of Die Verwandlung (The Metamorphosis) by Franz Kafka, 1948. (PT2621 .A26 V4 1948. Gift of Paul E. Rieger. Photograph by Anne Causey)

Cover of Die Verwandlung (The Metamorphosis) by Franz Kafka, 1948. (PT2621 .A26 V4 1948. Gift of Paul E. Rieger. Photograph by Anne Causey)

 

Cover of The Castle by Franz Kafka, translated from German into English by Edwin and Willa Muir, 1930. (PT2621 .A26 S313 1930b. Gift of Paul E. Rieger. Photograph by Anne Causey.)

Cover of The Castle by Franz Kafka, translated from German into English by Edwin and Willa Muir, 1930. (PT2621 .A26 S313 1930b. Gift of Paul E. Rieger. Photograph by Anne Causey.)

Paul E. Rieger's bookplate from Kafka's Castle by Ronald Gray (PT2621 .A26 S42. Gift of Paul E. Rieger. Photograph by Anne Causey)

Paul E. Rieger’s (U.Va. Class of ’55) bookplate from Kafka’s Castle by Ronald Gray (PT2621 .A26 S42. Gift of Paul E. Rieger. Photograph by Anne Causey)

K is for Kanawha

On October 24, 1861, citizens of 39 western Virginia counties approved a resolution to form a new pro-Union state, to be called Kanawha. A convention met in Wheeling late in 1861 to draft a constitution for the new state. Many of the delegates did not like the name “Kanawha” and after lengthy debate, the name “West Virginia” was selected for the assemblage of 50 former Virginia counties. Once the contentious issue of the new state’s name was decided, slavery was the remaining controversial issue. West Virginia was not conceived as a free state. Instead of an outright ban, the new constitution stated: “No slave shall be brought, or free person of color be permitted to come into this State for permanent residence.”

Contributed by Edward Gaynor, Head of Description and Specialist for Virginiana and University Archives

Journal of the Constitutional Convention of West Virginia Assembled at Wheeling on Tuesday, November Twenty-Sixth, Eighteen Hundred and Sixty-One (A 1861 .W478. Tracy W. McGregor Library of American History. Photograph by Petrina Jackson)

Journal of the Constitutional Convention of West Virginia Assembled at Wheeling on Tuesday, November Twenty-Sixth, Eighteen Hundred and Sixty-One (A 1861 .W478. Tracy W. McGregor Library of American History. Photograph by Petrina Jackson)

W. T. Willey [Washington, DC] letter to J. W. Paxton [Wheeling, W. Va.], announcing the "agony is over" and President Lincoln has signed the bill admitting West Virginia, January 1863. Willey was the first United States Senator from West Virginia; delegate to the Virginia Convention, 1861, voting against secession; and author of the Willey Amendment, a compromise on the question of freedom for West Virginia slaves that assured West Virginia's acceptance into the Union. (MSS 15234. Purchased by Associates Endowment Fund 2011/2012. Photograph by Petrina Jackson)

W. T. Willey [Washington, DC] letter to J. W. Paxton [Wheeling, W. Va.], announcing the “agony is over” and President Lincoln has signed the bill admitting West Virginia, January 1863. Willey was the first United States Senator from West Virginia; delegate to the Virginia Convention, 1861, voting against secession; and author of the Willey Amendment, a compromise on the question of freedom for West Virginia slaves that assured West Virginia’s acceptance into the Union. (MSS 15234. Purchased by Associates Endowment Fund 2011/2012. Photograph by Petrina Jackson)

Map of W.Va. copy

Map of West Virginia, 1863. The base map is J.H. Colton’s “Virginia” map (version of the map including McDowell, but not Webster counties), with 1855 copyright date and the identification of “Richmond” as State Capital blacked out with printer’s ink. Virginia is still included on the sheet, but is not colored. There are two insets: Section of West Virginia Oil Region and West Virginia Geological Sections. (G3890 1863 .C6. Photograph by Petrina Jackson)

K is for Bob Kaufman

Bob Kaufman was a leading figure in the San Francisco poetry scene during the Beat and Psychedelic eras. Kaufman, a poet in the oral tradition, was often seen reciting his poems on the street, in coffee houses, and at musical events. Only at the insistence of his wife did he put some of his verse to paper. A Buddhist and a jazz aficionado, Kaufman was one of the founders of the influential poetry magazine, Beatitude.

Contributed by George Riser, Collections and Instruction Assistant

Bob Kaufman on the cover of his book of poetry, Golden Sardine from the Pocket Poets Series, 1967. (PS3521 .A7265G6 1967. Photograph by Petrina Jackson)

Bob Kaufman on the cover of his book of poetry, Golden Sardine from the Pocket Poets Series, 1967. (PS3521 .A7265G6 1967. Marvin Tatum Collection of Contemporary Literature. Photograph by Petrina Jackson)

(Abomunist Manifesto by Bob Kaufman. Marvin Tatum Collection of Contemporary Literature. Photograph by Petrina Jackson)

First printing of Kaufman’s first published work, Abomunist Manifesto, 1959. (PS3521 .A7265A2 1959. Marvin Tatum Collection of Contemporary Literature. Photograph by Petrina Jackson)

Issue of Beatitude, no. 15, 17 June 1960. (PS580 .B36. Marvin Tatum Collection of Contemporary Literature. Photograph by Petrina Jackson)

Issue of Beatitude, no. 15, 17 June 1960. (PS580 .B36. Marvin Tatum Collection of Contemporary Literature. Photograph by Petrina Jackson)

K is for Kennedy

1958 was a memorable year for the University.  John, Jackie, Edward and Robert Kennedy visited U.Va. to attend a celebration, the first Law Day.  The highlight of the day was a speech by then Senator John F. Kennedy to a large crowd gathered at Alumni Hall.  At this time Ted was a second-year law student, following in the footsteps of his brother Robert, who graduated from U.Va.’s Law school in 1951.

Contributed by Donna Stapley, Assistant to the Director

Robert Kennedy and Ralph Bunche at Student Legal Forum, held at U.Va. on 26 March 1951. (Prints File. Photograph of print by Donna Stapley)

Robert Kennedy and Ralph Bunche at Student Legal Forum, held at U.Va. on 26 March 1951. (Prints File. Photograph by Donna Stapley)

Edward, Jackie, John and Robert Kennedy at U.Va (from left to right). When Edward Kennedy was a second-year law student, the Law School held its first Law Day. John F. Kennedy (then senator of Massachusetts) spoke on "The Unknown Challenge," discussing foreign and domestic policy. His brother Robert attended as an alumnus. (Photograph by Donna Stapley)

Edward, Jackie, John and Robert Kennedy at U.Va (from left to right). When Edward Kennedy was a second-year law student, the Law School held its first Law Day. John F. Kennedy (then senator of Massachusetts) spoke on “The Unknown Challenge,” discussing foreign and domestic policy. His brother Robert attended as an alumnus. (Prints File: U.Va. News Service Photo. Photograph by Donna Stapley)

Photograph of John Kennedy and Mrs. Colgate Darden (seated) by U.Va. photographer Ralph Thompson (Prints File. Photograph of print by Donna Stapley)

Photograph of John Kennedy and Mrs. Colgate Darden (seated) by U.Va. photographer Ralph Thompson (Prints File. Photograph by Donna Stapley)

K is for Frances Parkinson Keyes

Best-selling novelist Frances Parkinson Keyes (pronounced “Kize”) was born in Charlottesville, Virginia in 1885, to UVA professor and chairman of the Greek Department, John Henry Wheeler, and his wife Louise Fuller Johnson Wheeler.  Keyes went on to become the wife of a US senator and a prolific author.  Her over fifty novels, many set in the South, sold millions of copies during the mid-twentieth century.  The Papers of Frances Parkinson Keyes, MSS 3923, etc., in the Albert and Shirley Small Special Collections Library were a gift from the author to the Library in the 1960s.

Contributed by Margaret Hrabe, Reference Coordinator

Letter from Frances Parkinson Keyes to University Librarian John Cook Wyllie, regarding her birth at U.Va., 10 January 1959. (MSS 5983. Photograph by Petrina Jackson)

Letter from Frances Parkinson Keyes to University Librarian John Cook Wyllie, regarding her birth at U.Va., 10 January 1959. (MSS 5983. Gift of John Cook Wyllie. Photograph by Petrina Jackson)

Photograph of Frances Parkinson Keyes inscribed to U.Va. Library.  (MSS 3923. Gift of Frances Parkinson Keyes. Photograph by Petrina Jackson)

Photograph of Frances Parkinson Keyes inscribed to U.Va. Library. (MSS 3923. Gift of Frances Parkinson Keyes. Photograph by Petrina Jackson)

Cover of dinner program given by Keyes, related to the writing of Steamboat Gothic.  (MSS 3932. Gift of Frances Parkinson Keyes. Photograph by Petrina Jackson)

Cover of dinner program given by Keyes, related to the writing of Steamboat Gothic. (MSS 3932. Gift of Frances Parkinson Keyes. Photograph by Petrina Jackson)

Musical program and dinner menu given by Keyes, related to the  writing of Steamboat Gothic. (MSS 3932. Gift of Frances Parkinson Keyes. Photograph by Petrina Jackson).

Musical program and dinner menu given by Keyes, related to the writing of Steamboat Gothic. (MSS 3932. Gift of Frances Parkinson Keyes. Photograph by Petrina Jackson).

That concludes the “Ks” of Special Collections.  Catch us in two weeks when we explore “Ls.”

Curating Yoko Ono

Anyone who has ever curated or installed an exhibition of books and manuscripts knows that these materials are inherently impossible to exhibit effectively. While paintings and sculpture are created with the intention of exhibition, most of the artifacts we hold are not. Visitors can only see one page of any multipage document, and artifacts that were made to be held in one’s hands and experienced intimately are relatively far away, usually behind glass. Curators are always looking for ways to transcend these difficulties. We hem and haw over writing lengthy descriptions in labels. If we have funds, we create high-quality facsimiles of hidden pages or even a “page-turner” digital facsimile of the complete artifact.

Who knew effective display could involve smashing china cups to smithereens?

Here is the curator, hard at work.

Here is the curator, hard at work. (Photo by Alicia Dietrich)

I have just finished installing our latest exhibition, “Magazines Unbound: Periodicals as Art 1942-1983.” This project reveals an unexpected strength in our collections: magazines conceived of as formal artistic experiments in and of themselves. Most of the magazines displayed are gatherings of paper or even objects into folders, envelopes, and boxes, rather than bound as books. This makes them, in some ways, ideal for exhibition.

The 1950s west-coast Beat magazine Semina displays beautifully, since most of its contents are loose sheets. (

The 1950s west-coast Beat magazine Semina displays beautifully, since most of its contents are loose sheets. Shown are most of the contents of Semina 8 being prepared for exhibition (PS 580 .S45, Marvin Tatum Collection of Contemporary Literature. Photo by Molly Schwartzburg)

But two of the magazines–Aspen and S.M.S.–were venues for conceptual artists in the 1960s, who had a penchant for works of art that remain incomplete without the participation of the reader or viewer. Among the objects included are records and audio and video tapes that need to be played, instructions for writing a poem, templates for boxes that need to be glued together, and a paper doll and candy-wrapper that need to be cut out. What’s a curator to do?

I chose to let all the works stand incomplete with one exception: Yoko Ono’s “Mend Piece for John,” shown below.

Yoko Ono's *****. From S.M.S. 5 (October 1968).

Yoko Ono’s “Mend Piece for John,”. From S.M.S. 5 (October 1968). (N1 .S15, University of Virginia Library Associates Fund. Image by Molly Schwartzburg)

A tube of glue is wrapped with a poem, and attached to a plastic bag with a satin ribbon. Inside the bag is a set of typed instructions:

Take your favorite cup.

Break it in many pieces with a hammer.

Repair it with this glue and this poem.

The poem wrapped around the tube of glue in Ono's piece.

This poem comes wrapped around the tube of glue in Ono’s piece with a rubber band. After unwrapping it to be sure I knew what it included, I took a quick snapshot for reference purposes before carefully rewrapping it. (Photo by Molly Schwartzburg)

How could I resist? A friend was visiting from out of town, so we went out to The Factory, my favorite antique mall out in the Shenandoah Valley, where we selected two cheap but visually appealing teacups. “But wait,” you say. “Didn’t the instructions specify that it be ‘your favorite cup’?” Well…let’s just say I wasn’t ready to make that kind of sacrifice for work. It was still a pretty profound experience.

We prepared to destroy the teacups in my front yard.

We prepared to destroy the teacups in my front yard. (Photo by Molly Schwartzburg)

No tortillas were harmed in the making of this artwork. But it only took one try to shatter each cup. This was the fun part.

No tortillas were harmed in the making of this artwork. It only took one blow to shatter each cup. This was the easy part. (Photo by Alicia Dietrich)

 

The glueing was fun at first, and then we realized how long it was going to take. We had to sit very still holding each piece for at least 15 or 20 minutes before we could safely let it go. So we sat, talked, glued, talked, and mended. It was wonderful.

The glueing was fun at first, and then we realized how long it was going to take. We had to sit very still holding each piece for at least 15 or 20 minutes before we could safely let it go. So we sat, talked, glued, talked, and mended. It was wonderful. (Photo by Molly Schwartzburg)

Here's the final view of the item in the exhibition, with all the other materials in S,M.S. 5.

Here’s the final view of the item in the exhibition, with all the other materials in S.M.S. 5. (Photo by Molly Schwartzburg)

I can’t say that visitors to the exhibit will understand the piece fully just because they can view its final result in the cases. But my friend and I discovered that the process itself, even modified, was wonderfully meditative. There is something about mending a cup, slowly and deliberately, that is itself healing, we discovered. Even if the cup is no longer usable. I’ll look forward to taking these results back home after the exhibition comes down.

You can view Ono’s piece in the exhibition “Magazines Unbound: Periodicals as Art 1942-1983” in the First Floor Gallery until January 5, 2014.