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			<title>Counterculture Colophon: Grove Press, the Evergreen Review, and the Incorporation of the Avant-Garde</title>
			<link>http://post45.research.yale.edu/2013/03/covering-the-revolution-grove-press-and-the-art-of-the-avant-garde-book-cover/?utm_source=rss&#038;utm_medium=rss&#038;utm_campaign=covering-the-revolution-grove-press-and-the-art-of-the-avant-garde-book-cover</link>
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			<pubDate>Mon, 01 Apr 2013 01:48:14 +0000</pubDate>
			<dc:creator>Loren Glass</dc:creator>
			<category><![CDATA[Curated Space]]></category>
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			<guid isPermaLink="false">http://post45.research.yale.edu/?p=467</guid>
			<description><![CDATA[Loren Glass]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<div class='curated-space-slideshow simpleSlide-window' rel='curated-space-slideshow'><div class='simpleSlide-tray' rel='curated-space-slideshow'><div class='curated-space-slide simpleSlide-slide' id='slide-1' rel='curated-space-slideshow'><div class='curated-space-slide-media'><h1><span style="color: #ff0000;">Forthcoming April 2013</span></h1><h1><span style="color: #ff0000;">www.sup.org</span></h1><p><a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/?attachment_id=3931"><img class="size-full wp-image-3931 alignleft" title="Counter-Culture" alt="" src="http://post45.research.yale.edu/wp-content/uploads/2013/03/Counter-Culture.jpg" width="298" height="448" /></a></p></div><div class='curated-space-slide-caption'></div></div><div class='curated-space-slide simpleSlide-slide' id='slide-2' rel='curated-space-slideshow'><div class='curated-space-slide-media'><p>&nbsp;</p><h1><span style="color: #ff0000;">Avant-Garde to Counterculture</span></h1><dl class="wp-caption alignleft" id="attachment_4090" style="width: 588px;"><dt class="wp-caption-dt"><a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/2013/03/covering-the-revolution-grove-press-and-the-art-of-the-avant-garde-book-cover/slide2/" rel="attachment wp-att-4090"><img class="size-full wp-image-4090" title="Slide2" alt="" src="http://post45.research.yale.edu/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/Slide2.jpg" width="578" height="362" /></a></dt><dd class="wp-caption-dd">Left: Grove Press Catalog Cover. Fall 1958. Right: Grove Press College Catalog Cover. 1970.</dd></dl><dl class="alignleft" id="attachment_3928" style="width: 588px;"><dt class="wp-caption-dt"></dt><dd class="wp-caption-dd"></dd></dl><p>Entering the publishing industry at the height of the paperback revolution, Grove Press established and expanded the circuits through which experimental and radical literature was distributed, particularly to the burgeoning college and university populations that were the seedbed of the counter culture, thereby effectively democratizing the avant-garde. By the end of the sixties, the avant-garde had in essence become a component of the mainstream, and Grove Press, more than any other single institution, was responsible for this fundamental transformation of the cultural field, the consequences of which are still with us.</p></div><div class='curated-space-slide-caption'></div></div><div class='curated-space-slide simpleSlide-slide' id='slide-3' rel='curated-space-slideshow'><div class='curated-space-slide-media'><p>&nbsp;</p><h1><span style="color: #ff0000;">Barney Rosset (1922-2012)</span></h1><dl class="wp-caption aligncenter" id="attachment_3933" style="width: 493px;"><dt class="wp-caption-dt"><a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/?attachment_id=3933"><img class="size-full wp-image-3933" title="Slide3" alt="" src="http://post45.research.yale.edu/wp-content/uploads/2013/03/Slide3.jpg" width="483" height="283" /></a></dt><dd class="wp-caption-dd">Barney Rosset (1922-2012)</dd></dl><p>Barney Rosset purchased Grove Press for $3,000 in 1951 and brought the entire stock of three titles to his apartment on West Ninth Street. Born and raised in Chicago, Rosset had recently arrived in New York City from Paris with his first wife, the painter Joan Mitchell. For the next three decades, Rosset would be the president and owner of Grove Press, and his aesthetic tastes, political convictions, and entrepreneurial spirit would become central to the identity of the company.</p></div><div class='curated-space-slide-caption'></div></div><div class='curated-space-slide simpleSlide-slide' id='slide-4' rel='curated-space-slideshow'><div class='curated-space-slide-media'><p>&nbsp;</p><h1><span style="color: #ff0000;">New York</span></h1><dl class="wp-caption alignleft" id="attachment_3934" style="width: 595px;"><dt class="wp-caption-dt"><a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/?attachment_id=3934"><img class="size-full wp-image-3934" title="Slide4" alt="" src="http://post45.research.yale.edu/wp-content/uploads/2013/03/Slide4.jpg" width="585" height="254" /></a></dt><dd class="wp-caption-dd">Left: Marquis de Sade:<em> Selections from his Writings</em> (1953). Cover by Roy Kuhlman. Right: Franz Kline, New York, NY (1953). Albright-Knox Art Gallery, Buffalo.</dd></dl><div></div><p>1951 is also the year of Leo Castelli's famous Ninth Street show. Featuring paintings by Jackson Pollock, Willem de Kooning, Franz Kline, Helen Frankenthaler, Robert Motherwell, Ad Reinhardt, Robert Rauschenberg, and Joan Mitchell, Serge Guilbaut sees the show as representing New York City's successful displacement of Paris as arbiter of the international art world. In the same year, Roy Kuhlman came to Rosset's apartment to show him some ideas for book cover design. Rosset was initially uninterested in his portfolio, but as Kuhlman was leaving he accidentally dropped a 12" by 12" piece of abstract art that he was intending to pitch as a record cover to Ahmet Ertegun. Rosset immediately saw what he wanted. Heavily influenced by Franz Kline, Kuhlman was one of the first book designers to incorporate Abstract Expressionism into cover art, and his signature style, making ample use of "negative space," provided a distinct look for Grove throughout the fifties and sixties.</p></div><div class='curated-space-slide-caption'></div></div><div class='curated-space-slide simpleSlide-slide' id='slide-5' rel='curated-space-slideshow'><div class='curated-space-slide-media'><p>&nbsp;</p><h1><span style="color: #ff0000;">Paris</span></h1><dl class="wp-caption alignnone" id="attachment_3942" style="width: 614px;"><dt class="wp-caption-dt"><a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/?attachment_id=3942"><img class="size-full wp-image-3942" title="LGSlide5" alt="" src="http://post45.research.yale.edu/wp-content/uploads/2013/03/Slide51.jpg" width="604" height="290" /></a></dt><dd class="wp-caption-dd">Left: Henry Miller, <em>Sexus</em>. Traveler's Companion. Right: Maurice Gerodias (1919-1990).</dd></dl><p>If New York had become the capital of the art world, Paris still reigned as arbiter of literary reputations. Over the course of the fifties, Rosset would establish fruitful connections with most of the major publishing houses in Paris, including Éditions de Minuit, Éditions de Seuil, Jean-Jacques Pauvert, Gallimard and, most profitably, Maurice Girodias's Olympia Press, which was already well-known across Europe for publishing English-language pornography in its "Traveler's Companion" series, but which also published avant-garde and experimental literature.</p></div><div class='curated-space-slide-caption'></div></div><div class='curated-space-slide simpleSlide-slide' id='slide-6' rel='curated-space-slideshow'><div class='curated-space-slide-media'><p>&nbsp;</p><h1><span style="color: #ff0000;">San Francisco</span></h1><dl class="wp-caption alignleft" id="attachment_3943" style="width: 635px;"><dt class="wp-caption-dt"><a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/?attachment_id=3943"><img class="size-full wp-image-3943" title="LGSlide6" alt="" src="http://post45.research.yale.edu/wp-content/uploads/2013/03/Slide6.jpg" width="625" height="290" /></a></dt><dd class="wp-caption-dd">Left: <em>Evergreen Review</em> 1:2 (1957). Cover by Fred Lyon. Right: Jack Kerouac, <em>The Subterraneans</em> (1958). Cover by Roy Kuhlman.</dd></dl><p>Grove complemented its reputation for publishing the latest in European avant-garde literature by tapping into the artistic scenes that were then emerging in the postwar United States. <em>Evergreen Review</em>'s legendary second issue on The San Francisco Scene featured poetry by Robert Duncan, Lawrence Ferlinghetti, Michael McClure, Jack Spicer, Gary Snyder, Philip Whalen and, most famously, the first nationally distributed appearance of Allen Ginsberg's "Howl." It was the first time most of these writers had appeared together in a nationally distributed publication; over the course of the sixties, almost all of them would become closely affiliated with Grove and its house journal. Grove in turn would become known as the "beat" publisher on the literary scene, the go-to resource for the latest products of America's indigenous avant-gardes.</p></div><div class='curated-space-slide-caption'></div></div><div class='curated-space-slide simpleSlide-slide' id='slide-7' rel='curated-space-slideshow'><div class='curated-space-slide-media'><p>&nbsp;</p><h1><span style="color: #ff0000;">The Quality Paperback Generation</span></h1><dl class="wp-caption alignleft" id="attachment_3944" style="width: 637px;"><dt class="wp-caption-dt"><a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/?attachment_id=3944"><img class="size-full wp-image-3944" title="LGSlide7" alt="" src="http://post45.research.yale.edu/wp-content/uploads/2013/03/Slide7.jpg" width="627" height="290" /></a></dt><dd class="wp-caption-dd" style="text-align: center;">Left: <em>Evergreen Review</em> 1:1 (1957). Cover by Harold Feinstein. Center: William Burroughs, <em>The Ticket That Exploded</em> (1962). Cover by Roy Kuhlman. Right: Samuel Beckett, <em>Endgame</em> (1958). Cover by Roy Kuhlman.</dd></dl><p>In the later fifties, following the lead of Jason Epstein's Doubleday imprint Anchor Books, Grove began publishing original avant-garde texts as inexpensive "quality" paperbacks, which were quickly recognized in the industry as marking a new and significant stage in the paperback revolution. Epstein had promoted and acquired his new imprint's authors through the <em>Anchor Review</em>, and Rosset adopted the same method. Thus, in 1957, Grove Press published the inaugural issue of the<em> Evergreen Review</em>, and in 1958 it launched the "Evergreen Originals" imprint. In 1961, Grove launched a mass market imprint: Black Cat. Smaller in format and lower in price than the Evergreen Originals, the Black Cat imprint was nevertheless also promoted as a "quality" line, featuring titles by the same authors and marketed prominently to colleges and universities.</p></div><div class='curated-space-slide-caption'></div></div><div class='curated-space-slide simpleSlide-slide' id='slide-8' rel='curated-space-slideshow'><div class='curated-space-slide-media'><p>&nbsp;</p><h1><span style="color: #ff0000;">I. <span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span> The New World Literature</span></h1><dl class="wp-caption alignleft" id="attachment_3945" style="width: 562px;"><dt class="wp-caption-dt"><a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/?attachment_id=3945"><img class="size-full wp-image-3945" title="LGSlide8" alt="" src="http://post45.research.yale.edu/wp-content/uploads/2013/03/Slide8.jpg" width="552" height="362" /></a></dt><dd class="wp-caption-dd">Left: Jorges Luis Borges, <em>Ficciones</em> (1961). Cover by Roy Kuhlman. Right: Samuel Beckett, <em>The Unnamable</em> (1958). Cover by Roy Kuhlman.</dd></dl><p>In 1961, Grove published Octavio Paz's <em>Labyrinth of Solitude</em>, which famously announces, "For the first time, we are contemporaries of all mankind" and affirms that "Mexico's situation is no different from that of the majority of countries in Latin America, Asia, and Africa." This perception of simultaneity across continents was crucial to the very possibility of a truly international modernism; insofar as the conceptual coherence of an avant-garde depends upon a linear model of history, an international avant-garde would require that its constituent nations co-exist at the same point on the same timeline. As an indication of this expansion and the attendant "Latin American Boom," in the same year Samuel Beckett and Jorge Luis Borges were co-awarded the newly established International Publisher's Prize.<br />From its beginnings, Grove worked to provide an American venue for the literature of the new nations that were rapidly emerging from the old empires and of the so-called third world more generally, making available many of the authors who would form the initial core of what would later come to be known as postcolonial literature. In this sense, Grove can be understood as a central participant in what Pascale Casanova identifies as the third major stage in "the genesis of world literary space," which is marked by the entry of the new nations into international competition for literary recognition.</p></div><div class='curated-space-slide-caption'></div></div><div class='curated-space-slide simpleSlide-slide' id='slide-9' rel='curated-space-slideshow'><div class='curated-space-slide-media'><p>&nbsp;</p><h1><span style="color: #ff0000;">Europe</span></h1><dl class="wp-caption alignleft" id="attachment_3946" style="width: 618px;"><dt class="wp-caption-dt"><a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/?attachment_id=3946"><img class="size-full wp-image-3946" title="LGSlide9" alt="" src="http://post45.research.yale.edu/wp-content/uploads/2013/03/Slide9.jpg" width="608" height="290" /></a></dt><dd class="wp-caption-dd">Left: Jean Genet, <em>The Maids</em> (1958). Cover by Roy Kuhlman. Right: Alain Robbe-Grillet<em>, Jealousy</em> (1959). Cover by Roy Kuhlman.</dd></dl><p>Along with Samuel Beckett, Jean Genet and Alain Robbe-Grillet represent the long twilight of the European male modernist as authoritative genius. All three men remain best-known for their early work, which presents masculine protagonists in situations of impotence, confusion, and constraint, their only dignity granted through the stylistic virtuosity of their creators. While these thematic obsessions were frequently honored with celebrations of universality, they were also understood, with equal frequency, as representing the exhaustion not only of the modernist mandate to &#8220;make it new&#8221; but also of the entire Enlightenment project of epistemological mastery. The sense that the West had exhausted its ethical authority in the wake of a war that witnessed both the Holocaust and the atomic bomb deeply informed Grove's investment in other cultural traditions. Grove&#8217;s selection of these traditions was in turn informed by America's triumphant emergence from the war and the demands of its rapidly expanding university population for knowledge of the world the war had created.</p></div><div class='curated-space-slide-caption'></div></div><div class='curated-space-slide simpleSlide-slide' id='slide-10' rel='curated-space-slideshow'><div class='curated-space-slide-media'><p>&nbsp;</p><h1><span style="color: #ff0000;">Asia</span></h1><dl class="wp-caption alignleft" id="attachment_3947" style="width: 629px;"><dt class="wp-caption-dt"><a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/?attachment_id=3947"><img class="size-full wp-image-3947" title="LGSlide10" alt="" src="http://post45.research.yale.edu/wp-content/uploads/2013/03/Slide10.jpg" width="619" height="296" /></a></dt><dd class="wp-caption-dd">Left: Donald Keene, Ed., <em>Modern Japanese Literature</em> (1956). Cover by Roy Kuhlman. Right: <em>Evergreen Review</em> 2:6 (Autumn 1958). Cover by Susan Nevelson.</dd></dl><p>Over the course of the fifties and sixties, Grove published and distributed numerous translations and studies of Asian literature and culture, including studies of Zen Buddhism, both by Japanese scholars such as D.T. Suzuki and by American popularizers such as Alan Watts. Grove also became the American distributor for the London-based Wisdom of the East series and formed the East and West Book Club, offering a choice between <em>The Golden Bowl</em> and <em>The Anthology of Japanese Literature</em> free with a membership. Grove&#8217;s vision of an East-West dialogue was heavily inflected by the international interests and itineraries of the Beats, as illustrated in the sixth number of the Evergreen Review, which features Gary Snyder&#8217;s translation of the &#8220;Cold Mountain Poems.&#8221;</p></div><div class='curated-space-slide-caption'></div></div><div class='curated-space-slide simpleSlide-slide' id='slide-11' rel='curated-space-slideshow'><div class='curated-space-slide-media'><p>&nbsp;</p><h1><span style="color: #ff0000;">Africa</span></h1><dl class="wp-caption alignleft" id="attachment_3961" style="width: 628px;"><dt class="wp-caption-dt"><a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/2013/03/covering-the-revolution-grove-press-and-the-art-of-the-avant-garde-book-cover/lgslide11/" rel="attachment wp-att-3961"><img class="size-full wp-image-3961" title="LGSlide11" alt="" src="http://post45.research.yale.edu/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/LGSlide11.jpg" width="618" height="290" /></a></dt><dd class="wp-caption-dd">Left: Amos Tutuola, <em>My Life in the Bush of Ghosts</em> (1954). Cover by Roy Kuhlman. Right: Jahheinz Jahn, <em>Muntu: the new African culture </em>(1961). Cover by Roy Kuhlman.</dd></dl><p>In the fifties, Rosset agreed to be Amos Tutuola's literary agent in the United States, and Grove published the three texts for which he remains most well-known<span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span><em>The Palm-Wine Drinkard</em>, <em>My Life in the Bush of Ghosts</em>, and <em>The Brave African Huntress</em><span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span>while also exerting considerable effort to get his stories into American magazines. The books met with only modest success. Then in 1961, Grove published the English translation of Janheinz Jahn's important study, <em>Muntu: the new African culture</em>. Jahn, co-editor of <em>Black Orpheus</em> and one of the most influential European scholars of African culture in the postwar era, opens his study with the portentous announcement that "Africa is entering world history." For Jahn, this entry mandates a new approach to the study of African literature. Deprecating earlier efforts to understand African writers in exclusively European terms, Jahn argues, &#8220;Within African literature Tutuola is intelligible; within English literature he is an oddity.&#8221;</p></div><div class='curated-space-slide-caption'></div></div><div class='curated-space-slide simpleSlide-slide' id='slide-12' rel='curated-space-slideshow'><div class='curated-space-slide-media'><p>&nbsp;</p><h1><span style="color: #ff0000;">America</span></h1><dl class="wp-caption alignleft" id="attachment_3962" style="width: 623px;"><dt class="wp-caption-dt"><a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/2013/03/covering-the-revolution-grove-press-and-the-art-of-the-avant-garde-book-cover/lgslide12/" rel="attachment wp-att-3962"><img class="size-full wp-image-3962" title="LGSlide12" alt="" src="http://post45.research.yale.edu/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/LGSlide12.jpg" width="613" height="301" /></a></dt><dd class="wp-caption-dd">Left: <em>Evergreen Review</em> 2:7 (Winter 1959). Cover by Martin Sameth. Right: Donald Allen, Ed., <em>The New American Poetry: 1945-1960</em> (1960). Cover by Roy Kuhlman.</dd></dl><p>In 1959, Rosset and co-editor Donald Allen commissioned Ramon Xirau to guest edit a special issue of the <em>Evergreen Review</em> on "The Eye of Mexico." The volume opens with an excerpt from <em>Labyrinth of Solitude</em> and includes prose by Juan Rulfo and Carlos Fuentes, poetry by Jaime Sabines and Manuel Durán, paintings by José Luis Cuevas and Juan Soriano, and an essay by anthropologist Miguel León-Portilla on "A Náhuatl Concept of Art." The poetry is translated by Paul Blackburn, Lysander Kemp, Denise Levertov, and William Carlos Williams.</p><p>One year later, Grove released Allen's landmark anthology, <em>The New American Poetry</em>. This volume was the first to lay out for a popular readership the now canonical<span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span>and significantly geographical<span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span>designations of the Black Mountain College, the San Francisco Renaissance, and the New York School. Most of the poets included in the anthology also appeared in the pages of the <em>Evergreen Review</em>, frequently as translators as well as poets.</p></div><div class='curated-space-slide-caption'></div></div><div class='curated-space-slide simpleSlide-slide' id='slide-13' rel='curated-space-slideshow'><div class='curated-space-slide-media'><p>&nbsp;</p><h1><span style="color: #ff0000;">II. <span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span> Publishing Off Broadway</span></h1><dl class="wp-caption aligncenter" id="attachment_3965" style="width: 254px;"><dt class="wp-caption-dt"><a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/2013/03/covering-the-revolution-grove-press-and-the-art-of-the-avant-garde-book-cover/lgslide13/" rel="attachment wp-att-3965"><img class="size-full wp-image-3965" title="LGSlide13" alt="" src="http://post45.research.yale.edu/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/LGSlide13.jpg" width="244" height="362" /></a></dt><dd class="wp-caption-dd">Antonin Artaud, <em>The Theater and its Double</em> (1958). Cover by Roy Kuhlman.</dd></dl><p>Debates over avant-garde theater tend to adopt Antonin Artaud's opposition between print and performance, an opposition which, in turn, maps onto the tension between playwright and director. <em>Counterculture Colophon</em> reorients the coordinates of this discussion, focusing instead on the relationship between publisher and reader, a relationship that presents the printed text in a complementary<span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span>as opposed to an antagonistic<span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span>relation to live performance. As a publisher, Grove worked to market printed plays as supplements to performance for those who could attend one, and as substitutes for performance to those who couldn't. Grove&#8217;s texts were designed, as much as possible, to invoke the experience of seeing the play live, frequently in direct reference to specific performances. Its success in this endeavor was crucial to the reception and interpretation of avant-garde drama in the postwar United States.</p></div><div class='curated-space-slide-caption'></div></div><div class='curated-space-slide simpleSlide-slide' id='slide-14' rel='curated-space-slideshow'><div class='curated-space-slide-media'><p>&nbsp;</p><h1><span style="color: #ff0000;">Samuel Beckett</span></h1><dl class="wp-caption alignleft" id="attachment_3966" style="width: 629px;"><dt class="wp-caption-dt"><a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/2013/03/covering-the-revolution-grove-press-and-the-art-of-the-avant-garde-book-cover/lgslide14/" rel="attachment wp-att-3966"><img class="size-full wp-image-3966" title="LGSlide14" alt="" src="http://post45.research.yale.edu/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/LGSlide14.jpg" width="619" height="290" /></a></dt><dd class="wp-caption-dd">Left: Samuel Beckett, <em>Waiting for Godot</em> (1956). Cover by Roy Kuhlman. Right: Back Cover. <em>Waiting for Godot</em>.</dd></dl><p>The early performances of Samuel Beckett's <em>Waiting for Godot</em> are landmarks in the history of modern theater. Roger Blin's <em>succès-de-scandale</em> at the Théatre Babylone in Paris on January 5, 1953; Alan Schneider's debacle at the Coconut Grove Playhouse in Miami on January 3, 1956; Herbert Blau's triumph at San Quentin on April 19, 1957: all have become legendary events which anchor any study of Beckett's dramatic work. Much less has been written about an equally significant event in the history of this epoch-defining play: Grove Press's publication of a $1 Evergreen paperback edition in 1956. Spurred by the play's Broadway debut and initially sold in the lobby of the John Golden Theater, the edition would eventually sell more than two million copies, becoming an iconic American paperback and one of the bestselling plays of all time.</p><p>Beckett, virtually unknown at the time, would be Rosset's most important Parisian acquisition. The lifelong relationship the two would establish is one of the more underappreciated professional alliances in postwar publishing history. The unwavering loyalty between the two men hearkened back to an earlier era, before huge advances and high-paid literary agents rendered such allegiances impractical. Rosset personally handled all of Beckett's literary rights in the United States, was adamant in encouraging the reluctant author to translate his own work, and hosted his only visit to the United States in the summer of 1964 to make <em>Film.</em></p></div><div class='curated-space-slide-caption'></div></div><div class='curated-space-slide simpleSlide-slide' id='slide-15' rel='curated-space-slideshow'><div class='curated-space-slide-media'><p>&nbsp;</p><h1><span style="color: #ff0000;">Jean Genet</span></h1><dl class="wp-caption alignleft" id="attachment_3967" style="width: 605px;"><dt class="wp-caption-dt"><a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/2013/03/covering-the-revolution-grove-press-and-the-art-of-the-avant-garde-book-cover/lgslide15/" rel="attachment wp-att-3967"><img class="size-full wp-image-3967" title="LGSlide15" alt="" src="http://post45.research.yale.edu/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/LGSlide15.jpg" width="595" height="290" /></a></dt><dd class="wp-caption-dd">Left: Jean Genet, <em>The Blacks </em>(1960). Cover by Roy Kuhlman. Cover photo by Martha Swope. Right: James Earl Jones and Cicely Tyson in <em>The Blacks</em>. Photo by Martha Swope.</dd></dl><p>More than any other play Grove published, <em>The Blacks</em> was inextricably yoked to a specific American performance, the triumphant three-year run at the St. Mark's Playhouse, photos from which were generously distributed throughout the paperback reissue of the play. The cover photo features Roscoe Lee Browne in the role of Master of Ceremonies Archibald Absalom Wellington, his hand raised as if conducting a symphony. In addition to Browne, the original New York cast featured James Earl Jones, Louis Gosset, Cicely Tyson, and Maya Angelou.</p></div><div class='curated-space-slide-caption'></div></div><div class='curated-space-slide simpleSlide-slide' id='slide-16' rel='curated-space-slideshow'><div class='curated-space-slide-media'><p>&nbsp;</p><h1><span style="color: #ff0000;">Harold Pinter</span></h1><dl class="wp-caption alignleft" id="attachment_3968" style="width: 649px;"><dt class="wp-caption-dt"><a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/2013/03/covering-the-revolution-grove-press-and-the-art-of-the-avant-garde-book-cover/lgslide16/" rel="attachment wp-att-3968"><img class="size-full wp-image-3968" title="LGSlide16" alt="" src="http://post45.research.yale.edu/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/LGSlide16.jpg" width="639" height="456" /></a></dt><dd class="wp-caption-dd">Left: Harold Pinter, <em>The Birthday Party </em>and<em> The Room</em> (1960). Cover by Roy Kuhlman. Cover photo by John Cowan. Upper Right: Vivian Merchant and Michael Brennan in <em>The Room</em> by Harold Pinter. Royal Court Theatre, London, 1960; photo by John Cowan. Lower Right: Vivian Merchant in <em>The Room</em> by Harold Pinter. Royal Court Theatre, London, 1960; photo by John Cowan.</dd></dl><p>Grove chose to introduce Harold Pinter's peculiar sensibilities<span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span>what would quickly become known as the "Pinteresque"<span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span>through a dialogue between typographic and photographic representation. Since most of Pinter's early plays take place in domestic interiors, they are particularly conducive to the photographic frame, whose rectangular shape conveniently mirrors the geometry of the room. In <em>The Birthday Party </em>and <em>The Room</em>, a sequence of photos follows the text of each play, replicating in condensed visual stills the action the reader has just followed in print.</p></div><div class='curated-space-slide-caption'></div></div><div class='curated-space-slide simpleSlide-slide' id='slide-17' rel='curated-space-slideshow'><div class='curated-space-slide-media'><p>&nbsp;</p><h1><span style="color: #ff0000;">The Living Theater</span></h1><dl class="wp-caption alignleft" id="attachment_3969" style="width: 612px;"><dt class="wp-caption-dt"><a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/2013/03/covering-the-revolution-grove-press-and-the-art-of-the-avant-garde-book-cover/lgslide17/" rel="attachment wp-att-3969"><img class="size-full wp-image-3969" title="LGSlide17" alt="" src="http://post45.research.yale.edu/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/LGSlide17.jpg" width="602" height="459" /></a></dt><dd class="wp-caption-dd">Left: Jack Gelber, <em>The Connection</em> (1960). Cover by Roy Kuhlman. Photo by John Wulp. Upper Right: Musicians in <em>The Connection</em> by Jack Gelber, Living Theatre, New York, 1959. Photo by John Wulp. Lower Right: <em>The Connection</em> by Jack Gelber, Living Theatre, New York, 1959. Photo by John Wulp.</dd></dl><p>Grove's resolutely international list of dramatists was weighted toward the European, but this didn't mean that it neglected contemporary American drama, particularly with the now-legendary Living Theater only a few blocks away. Grove published one of its first real successes, Jack Gelber's <em>The Connection </em>(1960)<em>, </em>a plotless play-within-a-play that centers on a group of addicts in an apartment waiting for the dealer to arrive. As Kenneth Tynan notes in his introduction, "its theme is akin to that of <em>Waiting for Godot,</em>" but with a higher level of explicit self-reflexivity about its status as a performance. The cast includes a producer, director, and author, as well as two photographers who move in and out of the audience. The play also features periodic performances by jazz musicians.</p></div><div class='curated-space-slide-caption'></div></div><div class='curated-space-slide simpleSlide-slide' id='slide-18' rel='curated-space-slideshow'><div class='curated-space-slide-media'><p>&nbsp;</p><h1><span style="color: #ff0000;">Bertolt Brecht</span></h1><dl class="wp-caption alignleft" id="attachment_3970" style="width: 589px;"><dt class="wp-caption-dt"><a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/2013/03/covering-the-revolution-grove-press-and-the-art-of-the-avant-garde-book-cover/lgslide18/" rel="attachment wp-att-3970"><img class="size-full wp-image-3970" title="LGSlide18" alt="" src="http://post45.research.yale.edu/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/LGSlide18.jpg" width="579" height="290" /></a></dt><dd class="wp-caption-dd">Left: Bertolt Brecht, <em>The Caucasian Chalk Circle</em> (1966). Cover by Roy Kuhlman. Right: Bertolt Brecht, <em>The Good Woman of Setzuan</em> (1966). Cover by Roy Kuhlman.</dd></dl><p>The key figure in Grove's acquisition and marketing of Brecht was Eric Bentley, who, in collaboration with Fred Jordan, assembled <em>The Grove Press Edition of the</em> <em>Works of Bertolt Brecht</em>. Most of these plays were published as mass market paperbacks under Grove's Black Cat imprint, reflecting an aspiration toward a popular audience appropriate to Brecht's political vision. These cheap paperback editions of his plays<span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span>pocket parables, as it were<span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span>proliferated alongside frequent productions by college and university drama departments over the course of the sixties, illustrating the degree to which Grove's domestication of Brecht for an English-speaking public was based in the interplay between reading and spectatorship.</p></div><div class='curated-space-slide-caption'></div></div><div class='curated-space-slide simpleSlide-slide' id='slide-19' rel='curated-space-slideshow'><div class='curated-space-slide-media'><p>&nbsp;</p><h1><span style="color: #ff0000;">Tom Stoppard</span></h1><dl class="wp-caption aligncenter" id="attachment_3971" style="width: 228px;"><dt class="wp-caption-dt"><a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/2013/03/covering-the-revolution-grove-press-and-the-art-of-the-avant-garde-book-cover/lgslide19/" rel="attachment wp-att-3971"><img class="size-full wp-image-3971 " title="LGSlide19" alt="" src="http://post45.research.yale.edu/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/LGSlide19.jpg" width="218" height="362" /></a></dt><dd class="wp-caption-dd">Tom Stoppard, <em>Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead</em> (1967). Cover by Roy Kuhlman.</dd></dl><p>In 1967, Grove published Tom Stoppard's award-winning <em>Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead </em>as a Black Cat paperback. Grove's education department issued a free study guide to accompany the play and also sponsored a nation-wide contest for the best undergraduate essay comparing the play to <em>Hamlet. </em>By asking students to compare Stoppard to the author whose work had effectively established the standard format for the play in print, Grove was affirming its remarkable success in marketing avant-garde theater as an explicitly literary genre with authors comparable to the most revered playwright in the canon.</p></div><div class='curated-space-slide-caption'></div></div><div class='curated-space-slide simpleSlide-slide' id='slide-20' rel='curated-space-slideshow'><div class='curated-space-slide-media'><p>&nbsp;</p><h1><span style="color: #ff0000;">III. <span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span> The End of Obscenity</span></h1><dl class="wp-caption alignleft" id="attachment_3972" style="width: 594px;"><dt class="wp-caption-dt"><a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/2013/03/covering-the-revolution-grove-press-and-the-art-of-the-avant-garde-book-cover/lgslide20/" rel="attachment wp-att-3972"><img class="size-full wp-image-3972" title="LGSlide20" alt="" src="http://post45.research.yale.edu/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/LGSlide20.jpg" width="584" height="301" /></a></dt><dd class="wp-caption-dd">Left: Samuel Roth (1893-1974). Right: William J. Brennan, Jr. (1906-1997).</dd></dl><p><em>Roth v. United States</em> (1957) was the first case in which the Supreme Court directly addressed whether obscenity constitutes an exception to First Amendment protection for freedom of speech and the press. It also represented the initial articulation of what Rosset's lawyer Edward de Grazia would later call the "Brennan Doctrine," a developing definition of obscenity formulated by Supreme Court Justice William Brennan that would make it easier for "defense lawyers to demonstrate that the works of literature or art created by their clients were entitled to First Amendment Protection."<br />Leveraging the Brennan Doctrine throughout the sixties, Rosset planned his battle against censorship with both deliberation and determination; in one unpublished autobiographical fragment, he calls it "a carefully planned campaign, much like a military campaign." Throughout this campaign Rosset and his lawyers emphasized Grove's reputation as a publisher with literary credentials and made ample use of expert testimony to establish that its publications had "redeeming social value."</p></div><div class='curated-space-slide-caption'></div></div><div class='curated-space-slide simpleSlide-slide' id='slide-21' rel='curated-space-slideshow'><div class='curated-space-slide-media'><p>&nbsp;</p><h1><span style="color: #ff0000;">The Professors v. The Postmaster</span></h1><dl class="wp-caption aligncenter" id="attachment_3973" style="width: 525px;"><dt class="wp-caption-dt"><a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/2013/03/covering-the-revolution-grove-press-and-the-art-of-the-avant-garde-book-cover/lgslide21/" rel="attachment wp-att-3973"><img class="size-full wp-image-3973" title="LGSlide21" alt="" src="http://post45.research.yale.edu/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/LGSlide21.jpg" width="515" height="362" /></a></dt><dd class="wp-caption-dd">D.H. Lawrence, <em>Lady Chatterley's Lover </em>(1959)</dd></dl><p>On July 21, 1959, Judge Frederick VanPelt Bryan issued his decision overturning the longstanding Post Office ban on D.H. Lawrence's underground classic, <em>Lady Chatterley's Lover</em>. In his decision, which was published in full in the<em> Evergreen Review </em>and incorporated into the paperback edition of the text, Bryan affirmed that "Grove Press is a reputable publisher with a good list which includes a number of distinguished writers and serious works. Before publishing this edition Grove consulted recognized literary critics and authorities on English literature as to the advisability of publication. All were of the view that the work was of major literary importance and should be made available to the American public.&#8221; Despite the competition from other paperback versions (Grove could establish no copyright on the text), the mass market edition of <em>Lady Chatterley's Lover</em>, distributed by Dell, would be Grove's first bestseller, with sales of almost 2 million copies by the end of 1960, and the legal battle provided a firm foundation for the reputation Rosset would continue to build over the course of the sixties for challenging legal restrictions against freedom of expression.</p></div><div class='curated-space-slide-caption'></div></div><div class='curated-space-slide simpleSlide-slide' id='slide-22' rel='curated-space-slideshow'><div class='curated-space-slide-media'><p>&nbsp;</p><h1><span style="color: #ff0000;">Freedom to Read</span></h1><dl class="wp-caption alignleft" id="attachment_3974" style="width: 613px;"><dt class="wp-caption-dt"><a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/2013/03/covering-the-revolution-grove-press-and-the-art-of-the-avant-garde-book-cover/lgslide22/" rel="attachment wp-att-3974"><img class="size-full wp-image-3974" title="LGSlide22" alt="" src="http://post45.research.yale.edu/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/LGSlide22.jpg" width="603" height="365" /></a></dt><dd class="wp-caption-dd">Left: Henry Miller, <em>Tropic of Cancer</em> (1961). Right: <em>Evergreen Review </em>6:25 (July-August 1962). Cover Design by Irving Cowman.</dd></dl><p>Rosset hadn't really liked <em>Lady Chatterley's Lover</em>, but he felt that its cultural absolution would increase his chances of legally publishing Henry Miller, whose work he had admired since his undergraduate years. Unlike <em>Lady Chatterley's Lover</em>, which had been fairly easy and inexpensive to defend with the one Post Office case, <em>Tropic of Cancer</em> was suppressed and litigated in numerous venues across the country, while simultaneously enjoying many months on bestseller lists in those same venues.<br />Of the many trials of <em>Tropic of Cancer</em>, Rosset was most proud of its exoneration in <em>Franklyn Haiman v. Robert Morris</em>. <em>Tropic of Cancer</em> was being illegally suppressed and confiscated across suburban Illinois, and the case pitted Grove against an array of small-town police departments. Judge Samuel Epstein's ruling, which affirmed that "as a corollary to the freedom of speech and the press, there is also a freedom to read," became the basis of a nationwide campaign. Rosset printed and circulated thousands of copies of the decision, and published a "Statement in Support of Freedom to Read" on the front cover of the July-August 1962 issue of the <em>Evergreen Review</em>, The statement shifts the terms of defense from elite endorsement to democratic access, affirming that "the issue is not whether <em>Tropic of Cancer</em> is a masterpiece of American literature," but rather "the right of a free people to decide for itself what it may or may not read."</p></div><div class='curated-space-slide-caption'></div></div><div class='curated-space-slide simpleSlide-slide' id='slide-23' rel='curated-space-slideshow'><div class='curated-space-slide-media'><p>&nbsp;</p><h1><span style="color: #ff0000;">The Last Masterpiece</span></h1><dl class="wp-caption alignleft" id="attachment_3976" style="width: 582px;"><dt class="wp-caption-dt"><a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/2013/03/covering-the-revolution-grove-press-and-the-art-of-the-avant-garde-book-cover/lgslide23/" rel="attachment wp-att-3976"><img class="size-full wp-image-3976" title="LGSlide23" alt="" src="http://post45.research.yale.edu/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/LGSlide23.jpg" width="572" height="362" /></a></dt><dd class="wp-caption-dd">Left: William Burroughs, <em>Naked Lunch</em> (1962). Hardcover Edition. Right: William Burroughs, <em>Naked Lunch </em>(1966). Black Cat Edition.</dd></dl><p>Unlike with<em> Lady Chatterley's Lover</em> and <em>Tropic of Cancer</em>, it proved challenging to find experts who could establish an authoritative version or interpretation of <em>Naked Lunch</em>. The prosecuting attorney in the Boston trial understandably doubted that it had a structure coherent enough to merit comparison to <em>Ulysses</em>. After all, the first Grove edition begins with the "Deposition: Testimony Concerning a Sickness," in which Burroughs claims "I have no precise memory of writing the notes which have now been published under the title <em>Naked Lunch</em>." The judge found the text obscene, claiming that "the author first collected the foulest and vilest phrases describing unnatural sexual experiences and tossed them indiscriminately" into the book. His ruling was overturned upon appeal, but only because the United States Supreme Court had, in the intervening months, clarified that a text could be suppressed only if it was "utterly without redeeming social value." The Massachusetts Supreme Judicial Court was forced to concede that "it appears that a substantial and intelligent group in the community believes the book to be of some literary significance."</p></div><div class='curated-space-slide-caption'></div></div><div class='curated-space-slide simpleSlide-slide' id='slide-24' rel='curated-space-slideshow'><div class='curated-space-slide-media'><p>&nbsp;</p><h1><span style="color: #ff0000;">Vulgar Modernism</span></h1><dl class="wp-caption alignleft" id="attachment_3977" style="width: 619px;"><dt class="wp-caption-dt"><a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/2013/03/covering-the-revolution-grove-press-and-the-art-of-the-avant-garde-book-cover/lgslide24/" rel="attachment wp-att-3977"><img class="size-full wp-image-3977" title="LGSlide24" alt="" src="http://post45.research.yale.edu/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/LGSlide24.jpg" width="609" height="363" /></a></dt><dd class="wp-caption-dd">Left: <em>Evergreen Review</em> 8:32 (April-May 1964). Cover Photo by Emil Cadoo. Right: Jean Genet, <em>The Miracle of the Rose</em> (1966). Photo by Jerry Bauer. Cover Design by Kuhlman Associates.</dd></dl><p>In 1964, Rosset decided to change the format of the <em>Evergreen Review</em> from a quarterly quarto to a bi-monthly, and then monthly, folio-size magazine with glossy (and frequently racy) covers. He recruited a greater diversity of advertisers, emphasizing book, record, tape, and poster clubs, as well as cars, cruises, clothes and alcohol. It was time to move on to newsstands, to take it to the streets. In his announcement of the change to subscribers, managing editor Fred Jordan writes "to inaugurate the new format, we have put together what is without a doubt the finest, most adventurous collection of modern writing to be found anywhere between the covers of a magazine."</p><p>The modern writing Grove promoted can be categorized as "vulgar modernism," both for its vernacular aspirations and for its erotic fixations. It was a modernism dominated by men. As the trajectory from Lawrence to Miller to Burroughs economically illustrates, Grove's battle against censorship began with a quintessentially high modernist preoccupation with adulterous women and ended up with the highly homosocial and increasingly homosexual preoccupations of late modernist figures such as Burroughs and Jean Genet.</p></div><div class='curated-space-slide-caption'></div></div><div class='curated-space-slide simpleSlide-slide' id='slide-25' rel='curated-space-slideshow'><div class='curated-space-slide-media'><p>&nbsp;</p><h1><span style="color: #ff0000;">Up from Underground</span></h1><dl class="wp-caption alignleft" id="attachment_3978" style="width: 630px;"><dt class="wp-caption-dt"><a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/2013/03/covering-the-revolution-grove-press-and-the-art-of-the-avant-garde-book-cover/lgslide25/" rel="attachment wp-att-3978"><img class="size-full wp-image-3978" title="LGSlide25" alt="" src="http://post45.research.yale.edu/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/LGSlide25.jpg" width="620" height="362" /></a></dt><dd class="wp-caption-dd">Left: Join the Underground advertisement. <em>New York Times</em> (March 13, 1966). Right: Join the Underground sticker.</dd></dl><p>Over the second half of the sixties, the Supreme Court began to shift from an &#8220;absolute&#8221; to a &#8220;variable&#8221; definition of obscenity, adopting a more flexible definition based on the audience to which the materials are directed. This shift led the Court to accept a lower threshold when judging the legality of materials made available to minors. As a direct consequence, a relatively unrestricted &#8220;adult&#8221; market for sexually explicit materials emerged, a market whose social and cultural legitimacy Grove would help to establish.</p><p>Grove almost singlehandedly transformed the term "underground" into a legitimate market niche for adults in the second half of the sixties. The transformation began with a campaign inviting readers to "Join the Underground" by subscribing to the <em>Evergreen Review</em> and joining the Evergreen Club, which Rosset had started earlier that year as a conduit for distributing Grove's rapidly expanding catalogue of "adult" literature and film. By specifying its audience as "adult," by continuing to emphasize its literary credentials, and by concentrating its more explicit materials in the institution of a book club, Grove was able to exploit the Court's and the culture's move toward a variable definition of obscenity.</p></div><div class='curated-space-slide-caption'></div></div><div class='curated-space-slide simpleSlide-slide' id='slide-26' rel='curated-space-slideshow'><div class='curated-space-slide-media'><p>&nbsp;</p><h1><span style="color: #ff0000;">Sade in America</span></h1><dl class="wp-caption alignleft" id="attachment_3979" style="width: 600px;"><dt class="wp-caption-dt"><a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/2013/03/covering-the-revolution-grove-press-and-the-art-of-the-avant-garde-book-cover/lgslide26/" rel="attachment wp-att-3979"><img class="size-full wp-image-3979" title="LGSlide26" alt="" src="http://post45.research.yale.edu/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/LGSlide26.jpg" width="590" height="293" /></a></dt><dd class="wp-caption-dd">Left and Right: The Marquis de Sade: <em>The Complete Justine, Philosophy in the Bedroom, and Other Writings</em> (1965). Right: Back Cover. The Marquis de Sade: <em>The Complete Justine, Philosophy in the Bedroom, and Other Writings (</em>1965).</dd></dl><p>In the June 1965 issue of the <em>Evergreen Review</em>, Grove editor Richard Seaver laid the groundwork for the imminent publication of the first volume of Grove's massive three-volume translation of Sade's work with an essay entitled "An Anniversary Unnoticed," juxtaposing the much publicized 400-year anniversary of Shakespeare&#8217;s birth with the unacknowledged 150-year anniversary of Sade's death. For Seaver, Sade is as important as Shakespeare, and the essay places him in the company of Baudelaire, Flaubert, Zola, Joyce, Lawrence, and Miller, as great writers whose books have outlived their initial condemnation to become literary classics. Seaver concludes the essay: &#8220;Which is he: devil or saint? Or perhaps both? Obviously, it is impossible to know until the doors are at last flung open and his works made available to more than the fortunate few." By 1967, the Black Cat edition of the first volume had sold over 240,000 copies.</p></div><div class='curated-space-slide-caption'></div></div><div class='curated-space-slide simpleSlide-slide' id='slide-27' rel='curated-space-slideshow'><div class='curated-space-slide-media'><p>&nbsp;</p><h1><span style="color: #ff0000;">Open Secrets</span></h1><dl class="wp-caption alignleft" id="attachment_3980" style="width: 646px;"><dt class="wp-caption-dt"><a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/2013/03/covering-the-revolution-grove-press-and-the-art-of-the-avant-garde-book-cover/lgslide27/" rel="attachment wp-att-3980"><img class="size-full wp-image-3980 " title="LGSlide27" alt="" src="http://post45.research.yale.edu/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/LGSlide27.jpg" width="636" height="362" /></a></dt><dd class="wp-caption-dd">Left: <em>My Secret Life</em>. Black Cat Edition (1966). Right: <em>The Pearl</em>. Black Cat Edition (1968). Cover Photo by Dennis Martin.</dd></dl><p>After the work of Sade, the most notorious and voluminous example of underground literature published by Grove was the eleven-volume anonymous autobiography <em>My Secret Life</em>. The <em>New York Times</em> reviewer confirmed that Grove's publication "helps to adjust our vision of 19<sup>th</sup>-century England and Europe," but also warns that it is "only a fragment of evidence." "We ought,&#8221; he continues, &#8220;to give to the Victorians the close attention that we give to savage and primitive societies. The material abounds." Over the next five years, Grove would make sure that this material became available not only to scholars but to the general public, bringing out an entire catalog of underground "classics" under a series of new imprints such as "Venus Library," "Zebra Books" and "Black Circle."</p><p>By the late sixties, the Evergreen Club had abandoned any pretention to literary value, and became a source for anything sexually explicit that Rosset could acquire, including sex manuals, gay porn, stag films, and erotic art catalogs. At this point, Grove was openly parodying the paratextual apparatus it had deployed in its earlier campaigns, quoting such pseudo-professionals as A.M. LeDeluge and G. Howard Guacamole, MD, who says of one title, "On the whole, I found this book instructive and entertaining. It is absolutely stuffed with redeeming social value and is a lot of laughs." The expert testimony Grove had solicited for its earlier battles had been so successful that it was no longer necessary; its form had become so conventional that it was susceptible to parody.</p></div><div class='curated-space-slide-caption'></div></div><div class='curated-space-slide simpleSlide-slide' id='slide-28' rel='curated-space-slideshow'><div class='curated-space-slide-media'><p>&nbsp;</p><h1><span style="color: #ff0000;">IV. <span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span> Reading Revolution</span></h1><dl class="wp-caption aligncenter" id="attachment_3982" style="width: 234px;"><dt class="wp-caption-dt"><a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/2013/03/covering-the-revolution-grove-press-and-the-art-of-the-avant-garde-book-cover/lgslide28/" rel="attachment wp-att-3982"><img class="size-full wp-image-3982 " title="LGSlide28" alt="" src="http://post45.research.yale.edu/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/LGSlide28.jpg" width="224" height="374" /></a></dt><dd class="wp-caption-dd">Edgar Snow, <em>Red Star Over China</em> (1961). Cover by Roy Kuhlman.</dd></dl><p>In 1961, Grove reprinted Edgar Snow's classic text <em>Red Star Over China, </em>originally published to great acclaim by Random House in 1938, as the eighth title in its newly inaugurated Black Cat mass market imprint. Snow's hagiographic, and ultimately prophetic, history of the struggles of the Chinese communists had been a formative influence on Barney Rosset. The front matter for the Black Cat edition notes that <em>Red Star Over China</em> was used "as a handbook of guerilla warfare during World War II for anti-Nazi partisan fighters in Europe and anti-Japanese guerillas in Southeast Asia."</p><p><em>Red Star Over China </em>provides a model for the revolutionary handbook, pocket-size paperbacks that combined empirical evidence with practical guidance for the attainment of revolutionary consciousness and the realization of revolutionary programs during a time when world revolution seemed imminent to many in the Movement.</p></div><div class='curated-space-slide-caption'></div></div><div class='curated-space-slide simpleSlide-slide' id='slide-29' rel='curated-space-slideshow'><div class='curated-space-slide-media'><p>&nbsp;</p><h1><span style="color: #ff0000;">Black and White</span></h1><dl class="wp-caption alignleft" id="attachment_3983" style="width: 553px;"><dt class="wp-caption-dt"><a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/2013/03/covering-the-revolution-grove-press-and-the-art-of-the-avant-garde-book-cover/lgslide29/" rel="attachment wp-att-3983"><img class="size-full wp-image-3983 " title="LGSlide29" alt="" src="http://post45.research.yale.edu/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/LGSlide29.jpg" width="543" height="364" /></a></dt><dd class="wp-caption-dd">Left: Frantz Fanon, <em>The Wretched of the Earth</em> (1968). Cover by Roy Kuhlman. Right:<em> The Autobiography of Malcolm X</em> (1965). Cover Photo UPI.</dd></dl><p>Like the Algerian revolution upon which its conclusions are based, <em>The Wretched of the Earth</em>, issued in hardcover in 1965 and then in mass market paperback in 1968, was widely understood as a signal event in the proliferation of anti-colonial wars and independence movements that were transforming the map of the world in the fifties and sixties. Grove published all of Frantz Fanon's major work, enhancing the company's reputation as a primary resource for revolutionary reading in the United States. Throughout the late sixties and early seventies, Grove strove to exploit the heightened interest in race and revolution, publishing a variety of other titles, which were promoted in full page ads as "The Black Experience in Grove Press Paperbacks."</p><p>Grove's most successful and significant title in this category was <em>The Autobiography of Malcolm X</em>, which was originally to have been published by Doubleday. The book was already in galleys when Malcolm X was assassinated but the subsequent threats and violence gave Doubleday cold feet. Rosset was quick to step in, issuing the hardcover in an initial printing of 10,000 copies in the fall of 1965 and the mass market paperback in the fall of 1966. And Grove put its full promotional efforts behind the book, which was widely reviewed, discussed, advertised and read over the course of the late sixties, despite Malcolm's overwhelmingly negative image in the mainstream white press. By 1970, Grove had sold over a million copies.</p></div><div class='curated-space-slide-caption'></div></div><div class='curated-space-slide simpleSlide-slide' id='slide-30' rel='curated-space-slideshow'><div class='curated-space-slide-media'><p>&nbsp;</p><h1><span style="color: #ff0000;">North and South</span></h1><dl class="wp-caption alignleft" id="attachment_3984" style="width: 619px;"><dt class="wp-caption-dt"><a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/2013/03/covering-the-revolution-grove-press-and-the-art-of-the-avant-garde-book-cover/lgslide30/" rel="attachment wp-att-3984"><img class="size-full wp-image-3984" title="LGSlide30" alt="" src="http://post45.research.yale.edu/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/LGSlide30.jpg" width="609" height="362" /></a></dt><dd class="wp-caption-dd">Left: <em>Evergreen Review </em>11:51 (February 1969). Cover by Paul Davis. Right: Regis Debray,<em> Revolution in the Revolution? </em>(1967). Cover by Roy Kuhlman.</dd></dl><p>The Cuban Revolution and its charismatic leaders inspired radical activists in the United States throughout the sixties, and Grove Press would become a central conduit for the dissemination of their words and images in the turbulent second half of that decade. After the Revolution itself, the central event in the idealization of the Cuban model would be the death of Che Guevara in Bolivia in 1967, which sparked an extensive publishing campaign that would be instrumental both in galvanizing Che's image as a romantic revolutionary and in affirming Grove's position as one of his key promulgators. Paul Davis' cover of the February 1968 <em>Evergreen Review</em> provided the now famous image of Che with "its first widespread appearance in the United States." Grove promoted the issue heavily, distributing posters throughout New York City and the rest of the country with the announcement that "the Spirit of Che lives in the new <em>Evergreen</em>."</p></div><div class='curated-space-slide-caption'></div></div><div class='curated-space-slide simpleSlide-slide' id='slide-31' rel='curated-space-slideshow'><div class='curated-space-slide-media'><p>&nbsp;</p><h1><span style="color: #ff0000;">From Handbook to Reader</span></h1><dl class="wp-caption alignleft" id="attachment_3985" style="width: 581px;"><dt class="wp-caption-dt"><a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/2013/03/covering-the-revolution-grove-press-and-the-art-of-the-avant-garde-book-cover/lgslide31/" rel="attachment wp-att-3985"><img class="size-full wp-image-3985" title="LGSlide31" alt="" src="http://post45.research.yale.edu/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/LGSlide31.jpg" width="571" height="365" /></a></dt><dd class="wp-caption-dd">Left: Abbie Hoffman, <em>Steal This Book</em> (1971). Right: Carl Oglesby, <em>The New Left Reader</em> (1969).</dd></dl><p>In 1971, Grove agreed to distribute Abbie Hoffman's <em>Steal This Book</em>, a "handbook of survival and warfare for the citizens of Woodstock nation" that, according to Hoffman, had been rejected by over 30 publishers. Hoffman wrote the introduction in jail, which he calls a "graduate school of survival." It is something of an irony of history that Grove's canon of texts, including its revolutionary handbooks, would in turn end up on the curriculum of graduate schools across the nation. In 1969, Grove issued a Black Cat paperback that anticipates this development, <em>The New Left Reader</em>, edited by former SDS President and movement "heavy" Carl Oglesby. Billed on the back cover as "for anyone who wishes to understand the complex thought behind the actions that are affecting the entire world," the anthology is called a "reader," and not a "handbook"; in offering the "philosophical and political roots" of the New Left, it also anticipates the turn to theory, and the retreat into the university, that would quickly ensue.</p></div><div class='curated-space-slide-caption'></div></div><div class='curated-space-slide simpleSlide-slide' id='slide-32' rel='curated-space-slideshow'><div class='curated-space-slide-media'><p>&nbsp;</p><h1><span style="color: #ff0000;">V. <span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span> Booking Film</span></h1><dl class="wp-caption aligncenter" id="attachment_3986" style="width: 250px;"><dt class="wp-caption-dt"><a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/2013/03/covering-the-revolution-grove-press-and-the-art-of-the-avant-garde-book-cover/lgslide32/" rel="attachment wp-att-3986"><img class="size-full wp-image-3986 " title="LGSlide32" alt="" src="http://post45.research.yale.edu/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/LGSlide32.jpg" width="240" height="362" /></a></dt><dd class="wp-caption-dd">Samuel Beckett, <em>Film</em> (1969). Cover by Roy Kuhlman.</dd></dl><p>Barney Rosset had been interested in the cinema since he was a young man, and in 1963, he established Evergreen Theater, Inc. in order to produce film scripts solicited from postwar authors. In 1964, the Evergreen Theater produced its only film, Samuel Beckett's <em>Film</em>, for which Beckett made his sole visit to the United States, hosted by Rosset and Seaver. Directed by Alan Schneider and starring an elderly Buster Keaton, <em>Film</em> was never widely released in the United States, though it did garner attention on the festival circuit, winning the Film Critics Prize at the 1965 Venice Film Festival.</p></div><div class='curated-space-slide-caption'></div></div><div class='curated-space-slide simpleSlide-slide' id='slide-33' rel='curated-space-slideshow'><div class='curated-space-slide-media'><p>&nbsp;</p><h1><span style="color: #ff0000;">New Novel/New Wave</span></h1><dl class="wp-caption alignleft" id="attachment_3989" style="width: 601px;"><dt class="wp-caption-dt"><a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/2013/03/covering-the-revolution-grove-press-and-the-art-of-the-avant-garde-book-cover/lgslide33/" rel="attachment wp-att-3989"><img class="size-full wp-image-3989" title="LGSlide33" alt="" src="http://post45.research.yale.edu/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/LGSlide33.jpg" width="591" height="362" /></a></dt><dd class="wp-caption-dd">Left: Marguerite Duras and Alain Resnais, <em>Hiroshima Mon Amour</em> (1961). Cover by Roy Kuhlman. Right: Alain Robbe-Grillet and Alain Resnais,<em> Last Year at Marienbad</em> (1962). Cover by Roy Kuhlman.</dd></dl><p>Under the general editorship of Robert Hughes, Grove pioneered the genre of the film book, producing a number of lavishly illustrated and annotated paperback screenplays. These books were specifically conceived in response to the rising profile of cinema studies in the American university. Grove was an early innovator in this underappreciated genre, and its efforts to popularize experimental cinema through the paperback book<span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span>both quality and mass market<span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span>represent its most important contribution to American film culture. The series was popular on university campuses, anticipating in a variety of ways the modes of reception and analysis that would establish these films as cornerstones of an emergent academic canon.</p><p>The first two films for which Grove published screenplays were landmark collaborations between French writers already noted for their innovations of the New Novel and a director who would become recognized, based on these two films, as a signal avatar of French New Wave cinema. <em>Hiroshima Mon Amour</em>, written by Marguerite Duras, and <em>Last Year at Marienbad</em>, written by Alain Robbe-Grillet, were both directed by Alain Resnais, previously known for his documentary shorts. Together these films foregrounded the relays between the thematic and formal innovations of postwar French cinema and the French New Novel. Grove's print editions made these relays accessible to examination and analysis in a manner and to a degree not possible when viewing the films, particularly in an era before the videocassette and DVD.</p></div><div class='curated-space-slide-caption'></div></div><div class='curated-space-slide simpleSlide-slide' id='slide-34' rel='curated-space-slideshow'><div class='curated-space-slide-media'><p>&nbsp;</p><h1><span style="color: #ff0000;">From Seeing to Studying</span></h1><dl class="wp-caption alignleft" id="attachment_3990" style="width: 570px;"><dt class="wp-caption-dt"><a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/2013/03/covering-the-revolution-grove-press-and-the-art-of-the-avant-garde-book-cover/lgslide34/" rel="attachment wp-att-3990"><img class="size-full wp-image-3990" title="LGSlide34" alt="" src="http://post45.research.yale.edu/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/LGSlide34.jpg" width="560" height="362" /></a></dt><dd class="wp-caption-dd">Left: Jean-Luc Godard, <em>Masculine-Feminine </em>(1969). Cover by Roy Kuhlman. Right: Akira Kurosawa, <em>Rashomon </em>(1969). Cover by Roy Kuhlman.</dd></dl><p>Hughes' groundbreaking series not only provided books about films but also revealed the degree to which the academic study of film would be predicated on a terminological preference for "reading" over "viewing." In the "note" opening every volume in the Black Cat Series of film books, he clarifies how this shift is illuminated by the historically specific need for the hybrid genre he's producing: "Making books from movies (apart from novelizations) is a relatively recent enterprise. But until everyone has inexpensive access to prints of his favorite movies and can 'read' them whenever he likes, this is one means toward understanding a particular film." Not only does Hughes affirm that one cannot fully understand an avant-garde film through a single viewing at a theater, but he further indicates that the form of attention required for such an understanding is analogous to reading a book.</p></div><div class='curated-space-slide-caption'></div></div><div class='curated-space-slide simpleSlide-slide' id='slide-35' rel='curated-space-slideshow'><div class='curated-space-slide-media'><p>&nbsp;</p><h1><span style="color: #ff0000;">For Adults Only</span></h1><dl class="wp-caption alignleft" id="attachment_3991" style="width: 610px;"><dt class="wp-caption-dt"><a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/2013/03/covering-the-revolution-grove-press-and-the-art-of-the-avant-garde-book-cover/lgslide35/" rel="attachment wp-att-3991"><img class="size-full wp-image-3991" title="LGSlide35" alt="" src="http://post45.research.yale.edu/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/LGSlide35.jpg" width="600" height="362" /></a></dt><dd class="wp-caption-dd">Left: <em>Evergreen Review</em> 56 (July 1968). Right: Vilgot Sjoman, <em>I Am Curious (Yellow)</em>. Cover by Roy Kuhlman.</dd></dl><p>In the end, Grove made money on a single film: Vilgot Sjoman's<em> I am Curious, (Yellow)</em>. The film was seized by US Customs in January 1968, and Grove had to arrange for critics to view it at the United States Appraisers Stores in New York City. These same critics were witnesses at the subsequent trial in May. A Jury found the film to be obscene, and while waiting for the case to be reviewed by the Court of Appeals, Grove issued a Black Cat paperback filmscript with extensive excerpts from the trial testimony. In February of 1969, by which time the Court of Appeals had overturned the lower court's decision, the <em>Times</em> listed the filmscript as having sold 160,000 copies, indicating that it was an integral component of the campaign that precipitated the phenomenal popularity of the film. For the rest of the year, <em>I am Curious, (Yellow</em>) was shown to packed houses by reservation only at the Evergreen Theater on East 11th street, and it generated lines around the block for its continuous showing (7 times a day) at the Cinema Rendezvous on 57th street. The film was widely reviewed and discussed, and Rosset aggressively pursued screenings across the country, retaining De Grazia to supervise the numerous legal challenges, and at one point going so far as to purchase an entire theater in Minneapolis when he couldn't find an exhibitor willing to show it. In November of 1969, it became the first foreign language film to top Variety's list of the top grossing films. It would ultimately bring in more than 14 million dollars.</p></div><div class='curated-space-slide-caption'></div></div><div class='curated-space-slide simpleSlide-slide' id='slide-36' rel='curated-space-slideshow'><div class='curated-space-slide-media'><p>&nbsp;</p><h1><span style="color: #ff0000;"><em>Saturday Evening Post</em> Jan 25 1969: &#8220;How to Publish &#8216;Dirty Books&#8217; For Fun and Profit&#8221;</span></h1><dl class="wp-caption aligncenter" id="attachment_3992" style="width: 326px;"><dt class="wp-caption-dt"><a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/2013/03/covering-the-revolution-grove-press-and-the-art-of-the-avant-garde-book-cover/lgslide36/" rel="attachment wp-att-3992"><img class="size-full wp-image-3992 " title="LGSlide36" alt="" src="http://post45.research.yale.edu/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/LGSlide36.jpg" width="316" height="434" /></a></dt><dd class="wp-caption-dd"><em>The Saturday Evening Post</em> (January 26, 1969).</dd></dl><p>Barney Rosset was now a celebrity. He was prominently profiled twice in 1969, first for <em>The</em> <em>Saturday Evening Post</em> in an article called "How to Publish 'Dirty Books' for Fun and Profit" and then for <em>Life Magazine</em> in an article called "The Old Smut Peddler." Both pieces border on the hagiographic and reveal a certain paradox in Rosset's public image: if his reputation for impulsiveness and irrationality was becoming legendary, these profiles prove that he was in fact shaping his public biography with shrewd purposefulness.</p></div><div class='curated-space-slide-caption'></div></div><div class='curated-space-slide simpleSlide-slide' id='slide-37' rel='curated-space-slideshow'><div class='curated-space-slide-media'><p>&nbsp;</p><h1><span style="color: #ff0000;">VI. <span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span> Takeover</span></h1><dl class="wp-caption aligncenter" id="attachment_3993" style="width: 207px;"><dt class="wp-caption-dt"><a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/2013/03/covering-the-revolution-grove-press-and-the-art-of-the-avant-garde-book-cover/lgslide37/" rel="attachment wp-att-3993"><img class="size-full wp-image-3993 " title="LGSlide37" alt="" src="http://post45.research.yale.edu/wp-content/uploads/2010/12/LGSlide37.jpg" width="197" height="290" /></a></dt><dd class="wp-caption-dd">Robin Morgan, Ed., <em>Sisterhood is Powerful</em> (1970).</dd></dl><p>On April 13, 1970, a group of women led by activist Robin Morgan occupied the executive offices of the massive building on the corner of Mercer and Bleecker Streets that Rosset had recently purchased and renovated; they demanded union recognition and asserted that Rosset had "earned millions off the basic theme of humiliating, degrading, and dehumanizing women through sado-masochistic literature, pornographic films, and oppressive and exploitative practices against its own female employees."</p><p>Morgan's landmark anthology, <em>Sisterhood is Powerful</em>, was already in production with Random House when she staged the Grove takeover. She was the only ex-Grove employee among the nine women who participated in the occupation.</p><p>The spectacle of handcuffed women being removed from the Grove Press offices by the New York City police permanently damaged the company's radical reputation and divided its constituency. Carl Oglesby publicly resigned in a letter to the editor addressed to Fred Jordan in the July 1970 <em>Evergreen Review</em>. He was followed in the next issue by journalist and activist Jack Newfield. Overnight Grove went from being a platform for the New Left to being a symbol of its disintegration.</p><p>Though the employees would in the end vote not to unionize, the company would never recover from the widely publicized takeover. Already overextended by overinvestment in film, Grove went into a financial tailspin. In 1970, the company lost over 2 million dollars. In the months following the takeover, Rosset fired 70 employees and vacated the Mercer Street offices. In December of 1971, he had to end publication of the <em>Evergreen Review</em>. In 1972, Standard and Poor's index refused to issue further reports on the company; by 1973, the stock was essentially worthless. By 1974, Rosset was working out of a tiny office on Eleventh Street with a staff of 14.</p><h2><span style="color: #ff0000;"><br /></span></h2></div><div class='curated-space-slide-caption'></div></div></div></div>]]></content:encoded>
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			<title>Haut-Bourgeois Precarity in Boston: The Company Men</title>
			<link>http://post45.research.yale.edu/2013/01/haut-bourgeois-precarity-in-boston-the-company-men/?utm_source=rss&#038;utm_medium=rss&#038;utm_campaign=haut-bourgeois-precarity-in-boston-the-company-men</link>
			<comments>http://post45.research.yale.edu/2013/01/haut-bourgeois-precarity-in-boston-the-company-men/#comments</comments>
			<pubDate>Thu, 24 Jan 2013 16:08:46 +0000</pubDate>
			<dc:creator>Andrew Hoberek</dc:creator>
			<category><![CDATA[Contemporaries]]></category>
			<category><![CDATA[spot7]]></category>
			<guid isPermaLink="false">http://post45.research.yale.edu/?p=3811</guid>
			<description><![CDATA[Derek Nystrom]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>In a year-end think piece on the films of 2010, <em>New York Times</em> critic <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2010/12/26/movies/26scott.html">A. O. Scott posited</a> that the 2008 economic crisis and ensuing near-depression incited many Hollywood productions to "suddenly bristle[] with something that looks like class consciousness." Boston films had pride of place in this account: not only the working-class dramas of David O. Russell's <em>The Fighter</em> and Ben Affleck's <em>The Town</em>, but also David Fincher's Harvard-located <em>The Social Network</em>, whose central conflict, as Scott observed, was motivated by the class <em>ressentiment</em> felt by its middle-class protagonist, Facebook founder Mark Zuckerberg, toward the aristocratic Winklevoss twins. Yet Scott's brief discussion of another Boston-centered tale from 2010, one that directly thematized the economic downturn, evinced a telling misrecognition: Scott described John Wells's <em>The Company Men</em> as one of many recent popular culture offerings about "the fear of dropping out of the middle class," despite the fact that its three main characters are all high-level, lavishly compensated corporate executives. Scott's mistake here, though, is one that <em>The Company Men</em> encourages, as it envisions the economic and social insecurity that has been felt most brutally by working- and middle-class people<span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span>and which has been recently theorized by many political thinkers and activists under the banner of "precarity"<span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span>but instead visits this experience on a group of wealthy protagonists. In a distorted but nonetheless suggestive manner, then, <em>The Company Men</em> serves to depict "precarity" as a cross-class experience, as it seeks to relate the experience of its haut-bourgeois main characters to the other class identities made available by the film's Boston location. This attempted depiction of cross-class precarity, in turn, marks <em>The Company Men</em> as a telling symptom of the political possibilities and dangers of such formulations.</p><p>Granted, it may seem perverse to link the lost class prerogatives of corporate elites to the political project announced by the theorization of precarity<span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span>a project that seeks to identify and critique a world being unmade and remade by these same elites. Indeed, over the past decade critics and activists have used the term "precarity" to specify the particular kinds of social and economic vulnerability generated by the current global economy (characterized variously as late capitalism, neoliberalism, post-Fordism, liquid modernity, the risk society, and so on).<a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/feed/#footnote_1_3811" id="identifier_0_3811" class="footnote-link footnote-identifier-link" title="See, for example, Amin, Bauman, Beck, Hardt and Negri, and Harvey.">1</a> In these critical accounts, the fraying of the social safety net and the attenuation of other forms of worker protection following on capital's demand for a more "flexible" workforce have generated a material and affective experience of profound insecurity. That said, many of these arguments strive to articulate precarity as a cross-class experience: the stronger versions assert that contemporary conditions have generated a new "precariat" which is made up of not only the traditional working classes (as well as undocumented immigrants and other marginalized subjects not normally represented by labor movement institutions), but also many kinds of highly educated professional workers who have become newly exposed to the vicissitudes of contingent employment. Thus, these commentators invoke the concept of precarity in a way similar to the Occupy movement's rhetoric of the 1% and the 99%: they are both discursive strategies that oscillate between descriptive and prescriptive iterations, making strategic claims about shared insecurity in order to encourage wider forms of solidarity, even as these claims often obscure as much as they reveal about differently situated experiences of social vulnerability.</p><p>Still, even if one uncritically embraces these claims for the rise of a cross-class precariat, one might still balk at calling <em>The Company Men</em> a document of precarity, mainly because its central characters all basically belong to the 1%. The film's three male protagonists<span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span>Bobby, Phil, and Gene<span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span>are all wealthy executives of one kind or another at the fictional conglomerate GTX, a corporation that started out as a shipbuilding enterprise before expanding into other industries such as health care. The storyline, which takes place after the September 2008 economic implosion, follows the three men as they grapple with their loss of social and economic status after being fired from the company. As <em>Sight &amp; Sound</em>'s Michael Atkinson puckishly observed in his review of the film, <em>The Company Men</em> seems to presume "a broad-base sympathy for unemployed workers regardless of how large their mansions are or how many Porsches they own" (54). Atkinson was not kidding: one anguished conversation between Ben Affleck's Bobby and his wife Maggie (Rosemarie DeWitt) revolves around their horrific realization that, given the depressed housing market, they will be able to get <em>only</em> $850,000 for their house, while the scene in which Bobby sells his Porsche is mawkishly accompanied by sincere, minor-chord acoustic guitar strumming. But despite the film's unintentionally comic attempts to inspire pity for men like Tommy Lee Jones's Gene<span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span>whose sudden termination from the company is cushioned only by the millions of dollars in stock options he takes with him<span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span><em>The Company Men</em> nonetheless operates according to what we might call the narrative structures and affective registers of precarity. These narrative and affective elements enable the film to dramatize, albeit in a displaced manner, some of the key sources of precarity in contemporary U.S. political economy, even if these dramatizations are ultimately put into the service of what Lauren Berlant has called the "cruel optimism" of post-Fordist culture.</p><div class='dashed-hr'></div><table class="footnotes"><tr id="footnote_1_3811" class="footnote"><td class='number'>1.</td><td class='citation'><span class='note'>See, for example, Amin, Bauman, Beck, Hardt and Negri, and Harvey.</span></td></tr></table>]]></content:encoded>
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			<title>Queer Consumerism, Straight Happiness: Highsmith’s “Right Economy”</title>
			<link>http://post45.research.yale.edu/2012/12/queer-consumerism-straight-happiness-highsmiths-right-economy/?utm_source=rss&#038;utm_medium=rss&#038;utm_campaign=queer-consumerism-straight-happiness-highsmiths-right-economy</link>
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			<pubDate>Tue, 18 Dec 2012 18:30:20 +0000</pubDate>
			<dc:creator>Mary Esteve</dc:creator>
			<category><![CDATA[Peer Reviewed]]></category>
			<category><![CDATA[ongrid]]></category>
			<category><![CDATA[spot3]]></category>
			<guid isPermaLink="false">http://post45.research.yale.edu/?p=2883</guid>
			<description><![CDATA[Mary Esteve]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><em>The Price of Salt</em> (1952) is often touted as the first lesbian novel with a happy ending. In the afterword to its 1990 reissue, Patricia Highsmith explains that she first published it under a pseudonym to avoid being "labelled a lesbian-book writer"; she also draws attention to the fact that the novel first appeared in hardcover and received "some serious and respectable reviews" before being marketed as lesbian pulp and selling a million copies.<a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/feed/#footnote_1_2883" id="identifier_0_2883" class="footnote-link footnote-identifier-link" title="Patricia Highsmith, &lt;em&gt;The Price of Salt&lt;/em&gt; (New York and London: W. W. Norton, 2004), 261. Hereafter cited as &lt;em&gt;PS&lt;/em&gt;, with pages references appearing in the text.">1</a> Defensive vanity gives way to more dignified pride when Highsmith describes the stream of fan letters, from men as well as women, thanking her for telling a story in which homosexuals did not have "to pay for their deviation by cutting their wrists, drowning themselves in a swimming pool, or by switching to heterosexuality ... or by collapsing<span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span>alone and miserable and shunned<span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span>into a depression equal to hell" (<em>PS</em> 261). Readers liked the fact that her main characters Therese and Carol "were going to try to have a future together" (<em>PS</em> 261). Highsmith also tells of replying to some of these fans, encouraging the lonely ones to seek similarly inclined people in "a larger town" (<em>PS</em> 262). There is agreeable irony in this image of Highsmith<span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span>whom biographers portray as orneriness incarnate, sexual predator, misanthrope, and habitual racist<span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span>embracing the novel's therapeutic and educative effects. Like any good liberal, she not only affirms the interpretation of the novel's happy ending but also accepts as legitimate the values this ending reflects.</p><p>One may infer from her account that these fans were also good liberals<span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span>at least in their manner of reading. The paradigmatic liberal reader, Steven Knapp explains, "discovers, by reading literature, the conflicts, inconsistencies, and overdeterminations among her own dispositions," and is thus able to "read <em>herself</em> as an instance of descriptive representation." When literature is subject to a reader's dialectic of identification and disinterest, of involvement and self-awareness, it doesn't so much dictate values to readers as it "helps us find out what our evaluative dispositions <em>are.</em>"<a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/feed/#footnote_2_2883" id="identifier_1_2883" class="footnote-link footnote-identifier-link" title="Steven Knapp, &lt;em&gt;Literary Interest: The Limits of Anti-Formalism&lt;/em&gt; (Cambridge, Mass. and London: Harvard University Press, 1993), 101, 100. Slightly later Knapp identifies this mode of literary interest specifically with &ldquo;liberal agency&rdquo; (103).">2</a> Such readers evidently took away from <em>The Price of Salt</em> valuable self-confirmation, perhaps even inspiration or courage to pursue same-sex desire, without confusing their lives with those of Highsmith's characters. A distilled formulation of this ambidexterity appears in one of the letters Highsmith quotes from, where the reader thanks her for the "story. It is a little like my own story" (<em>PS</em> 262). The unassuming analogical phrase here, "a little like," allows for capacious differences between the author's and the reader's worlds, even as the reader revels in their likeness.</p><p>In the postwar era this queer-liberal reading style played a crucial role in the birth of a vibrant lesbian subculture. Jennifer Worley has shown how lesbian pulp fiction, despite its general aim to gratify heterosexual male prurience and despite the era's oppressive policing of homosexuality, functioned to render queer female identity fathomable: "the pulps offered [these] readers a vocabulary of dress, language, gesture, sexual practice, and public behavior from which they could both forge their own performance of sexual identity and 'read' the performances of others." Anecdotal evidence confirms the pulps' facilitation<span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span>"as physical objects of exchange [among friends], as conduits to a shared pleasure"<span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span>of women's emergent but still uncertain sense of same-sex desire.<a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/feed/#footnote_3_2883" id="identifier_2_2883" class="footnote-link footnote-identifier-link" title="Jennifer Worley, &ldquo;The Mid-century Pulp Novel and the Imagining of Lesbian Community,&rdquo; in Josh Lukin, ed., &lt;em&gt;Invisible Suburbs: Recovering Protest Fiction in the 1950s United States&lt;/em&gt; (Jackson, Miss: University Press of Mississippi, 2008), 108. For a broader account (and extensive bibliography) of mid-century lesbian pulp fiction&rsquo;s publishing and reception history, see Yvonne Keller, &ldquo;&lsquo;Was It Right to Love Her Brother&rsquo;s Wife So Passionately?&rsquo;: Lesbian Identity, 1950-1965&rdquo; (&lt;em&gt;American Quarterly&lt;/em&gt; 57 [2005]), 385-410. For an analysis of the historiographical significance of contemporary journalistic and academic reading practices of this fiction, see Christopher Nealon, &ldquo;Invert-History: The Ambivalence of Lesbian Pulp Fiction&rdquo; (&lt;em&gt;New Literary History&lt;/em&gt; 31 [2000]), 745-764.">3</a> Here readerly agency and consumerist agency dovetail to the benefit of self-inquiring, socially forming subjects. This history supports Michael Warner's contention that "variant desires," like any "deep pleasure," may involve "discovering" something previously undetected; which is to say that these desires need not be considered "legitimate only if they can be shown to be immutable, natural, and innate."<a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/feed/#footnote_4_2883" id="identifier_3_2883" class="footnote-link footnote-identifier-link" title="Michael Warner, &lt;em&gt;The Trouble with Normal: Sex, Politics, and the Ethics of Queer Life&lt;/em&gt;. (New York: Free Press, 1999), 8-9.">4</a> (This does not deny the possibility but only the necessity of innate desire.) This is part of his broader critique of the way majoritarian culture, in privileging the normal, stigmatizes and drives deviant sex practices from public view. Worley's account reminds us, however, that majoritarian culture's economic structure<span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span>particularly its consumerist focus and its knack for market segmentation<span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span>has for decades contributed importantly to the production of queer knowledge.</p><div class='dashed-hr'></div><table class="footnotes"><tr id="footnote_1_2883" class="footnote"><td class='number'>1.</td><td class='citation'><span class='note'>Patricia Highsmith, <em>The Price of Salt</em> (New York and London: W. W. Norton, 2004), 261. Hereafter cited as <em>PS</em>, with pages references appearing in the text.</span></td></tr><tr id="footnote_2_2883" class="footnote"><td class='number'>2.</td><td class='citation'><span class='note'>Steven Knapp, <em>Literary Interest: The Limits of Anti-Formalism</em> (Cambridge, Mass. and London: Harvard University Press, 1993), 101, 100. Slightly later Knapp identifies this mode of literary interest specifically with "liberal agency" (103).</span></td></tr><tr id="footnote_3_2883" class="footnote"><td class='number'>3.</td><td class='citation'><span class='note'>Jennifer Worley, "The Mid-century Pulp Novel and the Imagining of Lesbian Community," in Josh Lukin, ed., <em>Invisible Suburbs: Recovering Protest Fiction in the 1950s United States</em> (Jackson, Miss: University Press of Mississippi, 2008), 108. For a broader account (and extensive bibliography) of mid-century lesbian pulp fiction's publishing and reception history, see Yvonne Keller, "'Was It Right to Love Her Brother's Wife So Passionately?': Lesbian Identity, 1950-1965" (<em>American Quarterly</em> 57 [2005]), 385-410. For an analysis of the historiographical significance of contemporary journalistic and academic reading practices of this fiction, see Christopher Nealon, "Invert-History: The Ambivalence of Lesbian Pulp Fiction" (<em>New Literary History</em> 31 [2000]), 745-764.</span></td></tr><tr id="footnote_4_2883" class="footnote"><td class='number'>4.</td><td class='citation'><span class='note'>Michael Warner, <em>The Trouble with Normal: Sex, Politics, and the Ethics of Queer Life</em>. (New York: Free Press, 1999), 8-9.</span></td></tr></table>]]></content:encoded>
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			<title>The Daily Planet</title>
			<link>http://post45.research.yale.edu/2012/12/the-daily-planet/?utm_source=rss&#038;utm_medium=rss&#038;utm_campaign=the-daily-planet</link>
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			<pubDate>Tue, 18 Dec 2012 18:27:59 +0000</pubDate>
			<dc:creator>Mark Seltzer</dc:creator>
			<category><![CDATA[Peer Reviewed]]></category>
			<category><![CDATA[ongrid]]></category>
			<category><![CDATA[spot4]]></category>
			<guid isPermaLink="false">http://post45.research.yale.edu/?p=2887</guid>
			<description><![CDATA[Mark Seltzer]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>"Superman is, after all, an alien life form," the horror genre writer Clive Barker notes in his introduction to Neil Gaiman's <em>The Doll's House </em>(the second volume of Gaiman's remarkable serial graphic novel, <em>The Sandman</em>): "He's simply the acceptable face of invading realities." He may have noted too that the acceptable face that an invading alien life form takes<span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span>in a type of world that consists both of itself and an unremitting commentary on itself<span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span>is that of a mild-mannered reporter on <em>The Daily Planet</em>.<a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/feed/#footnote_1_2887" id="identifier_0_2887" class="footnote-link footnote-identifier-link" title="Clive Barker, introduction to &lt;em&gt;The Sandman: The Doll&rsquo;s House&lt;/em&gt;, by Neil Gaiman (DC Comics, 1990), not paginated.">1</a></p><p><a rel="attachment wp-att-2888" href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/2012/12/the-daily-planet/seltzer1-superman/"><img class="aligncenter size-full wp-image-2888" src="http://post45.research.yale.edu/wp-content/uploads/2012/10/seltzer1.superman-e1349555752838.png" alt="" width="650" height="487" /></a></p><p>I have, in a series of pieces, been setting out the pedagogical principles of this type of society: a self-inciting and self-reporting form of life that I redescribe as "the official world."<a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/feed/#footnote_2_2887" id="identifier_1_2887" class="footnote-link footnote-identifier-link" title="See my &ldquo;Parlor Games: The Apriorization of the Media,&rdquo; &lt;em&gt;Critical Inquiry&lt;/em&gt; 36:1 (Autumn 2009): 100-133; &ldquo;Die Freie Natur,&rdquo; in &lt;em&gt;Gefahrensinn: Archiv f&lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;&uuml;r Mediengeschichte&lt;/em&gt; (M&uuml;nchen: Wilhelm Fink, 2009), 127-38; &ldquo;The Official World,&rdquo; &lt;em&gt;Critical Inquiry&lt;/em&gt; 37:4 (Summer 2011), 724-53. See also, on Highsmith, &ldquo;Vicarious Crime,&rdquo; in &lt;em&gt;True Crime: Observations on Violence and Modernity&lt;/em&gt; (New York: Routledge, 2007), 111-38.">2</a></p><p>The throughput of this larger account is the work of Patricia Highsmith, whose novels and stories are fixated on the invading realities of species life on the daily planet<span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span>albeit the life of a species apparently intent on putting an end to itself, and doing so, as Highsmith puts it, "under the weight of officialism." The relentlessly brilliant, and relentlessly narrow-cast, stagings of an autotropic order of things makes for the "strange air of captivity," the "precarious life," and the "flavour of the unearthly"<span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span>I take all three phrases from <em>Strangers on a Train</em> (the first novel Highsmith published under her own name)<span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span>that define the official world, and draw chalk-white boundary lines along its edges.</p><p>The primary zones of distinction on the daily planet are these: the space of the game, the scene of the crime, and the form of the work of art. These reenactment zones are, it turns out, scale <em>models</em> of the official world, but at the same time <em>working</em> models in it (not just analogies to it, but also analogues of it). They are, as it were, scale models of the modern social system, which is then, in effect, a life-size model of itself. For this reason, if Highsmith's work is the strange attractor of these pages, my primary attention is to delineate the constituents of an official world that crisscross her work, and so to cast that world in relief, or to recast it in the presence of alternative, or warring, or ending worlds.</p><p>This piece then turns in part on Highsmith&#8217;s novels <em>Strangers on a Train </em>and <em>The Talented Mr. Ripley</em><em> </em>and the microworlds they model. These microworlds include the office (the architectural office, for example, in which worlds are drafted and modeled into existence); the theme park ("The Kingdom of Fun," a collection of demarcated repeating zones<span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span>the merry-go-round, the tunnel of love, and so on<span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span>small worlds after all); the train car, a rotating and repeating place without a place; the game space (which Hitchcock literalizes, in the real-time tennis game, in his film version of <em>Strangers</em>); the scene of the crime and the returns to it; and, not least, the artwork.</p><div class='dashed-hr'></div><table class="footnotes"><tr id="footnote_1_2887" class="footnote"><td class='number'>1.</td><td class='citation'><span class='note'>Clive Barker, introduction to <em>The Sandman: The Doll's House</em>, by Neil Gaiman (DC Comics, 1990), not paginated.</span></td></tr><tr id="footnote_2_2887" class="footnote"><td class='number'>2.</td><td class='citation'><span class='note'>See my "Parlor Games: The Apriorization of the Media," <em>Critical Inquiry</em> 36:1 (Autumn 2009): 100-133; "Die Freie Natur," in <em>Gefahrensinn: Archiv f</em><em>ür Mediengeschichte</em> (München: Wilhelm Fink, 2009), 127-38; "The Official World," <em>Critical Inquiry</em> 37:4 (Summer 2011), 724-53. See also, on Highsmith, "Vicarious Crime," in <em>True Crime: Observations on Violence and Modernity</em> (New York: Routledge, 2007), 111-38.</span></td></tr></table>]]></content:encoded>
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			<title>On Patricia Highsmith</title>
			<link>http://post45.research.yale.edu/2012/12/cluster-introduction-patricia-highsmith/?utm_source=rss&#038;utm_medium=rss&#038;utm_campaign=cluster-introduction-patricia-highsmith</link>
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			<pubDate>Tue, 18 Dec 2012 18:20:26 +0000</pubDate>
			<dc:creator>Tom Perrin</dc:creator>
			<category><![CDATA[Peer Reviewed]]></category>
			<category><![CDATA[ongrid]]></category>
			<category><![CDATA[rightfeatured]]></category>
			<guid isPermaLink="false">http://post45.research.yale.edu/?p=2773</guid>
			<description><![CDATA[Articles by Mary Esteve, Mark Seltzer, &#038; Michael Trask Introduction by Tom Perrin Co-edited by Mary Esteve and Tom Perrin]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Why a cluster of essays on Patricia Highsmith? Why now? The simplest answer might be that her work is, as Leonard Cassuto has written, "hot" right now.<a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/feed/#footnote_1_2773" id="identifier_0_2773" class="footnote-link footnote-identifier-link" title="Leonard Cassuto, &ldquo;Reality Catches Up to Highsmith&rsquo;s Hard-Boiled Fiction,&rdquo; &lt;em&gt;The Chronicle of Higher Education&lt;/em&gt;, Feb. 20 2004. For their help with this introduction specifically, thanks are due to James Albritton, Leonard Cassuto, Chad Eggleston, Mary Esteve, Elizabeth Hutcheon, Mandy McMichael, and Michael Trask.">1</a> In 2003 Terry Castle wrote that "the canonization of Patricia Highsmith [had] officially begun."<a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/feed/#footnote_2_2773" id="identifier_1_2773" class="footnote-link footnote-identifier-link" title="Terry Castle, &ldquo;The Ick Factor,&rdquo; &lt;em&gt;The New Republic&lt;/em&gt;, Nov. 10 2003: 28.">2</a> Nine years later it is surely complete. W.W. Norton has reissued all of Highsmith's previously available novels and stories, as well as some unpublished material; <em>The Talented Mr. Ripley</em>, in addition to having been filmed by Anthony Minghella in 1999, now features in the Library of America.<a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/feed/#footnote_3_2773" id="identifier_2_2773" class="footnote-link footnote-identifier-link" title="See Robert Polito (ed.), &lt;em&gt;Crime Novels: American Noir of the 1950s&lt;/em&gt; (New York: The Library of America, 1997).">3</a><strong> </strong>Joan Schenkar's 2009 biography <em>The Talented Miss Highsmith</em> sold out in hardcover and has been reissued in paperback, winning a Lambda Literary Award and being nominated for a number of awards in the process, and receiving strong reviews from most of the major American newspapers.<a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/feed/#footnote_4_2773" id="identifier_3_2773" class="footnote-link footnote-identifier-link" title="See Joan Schenkar, &lt;em&gt;The Talented Miss Highsmith: The Secret Life and Serious Art of Patricia Highsmith&lt;/em&gt; (New York: St. Martin&rsquo;s Press, 2009); Schenkar, &lt;em&gt;The Talented Miss Highsmith: The Secret Life and Serious Art of Patricia Highsmith&lt;/em&gt; (New York: Picador, 2011).">4</a> 2011 saw the release of the second scholarly monograph on Highsmith, and the first to take more than a basic readers'-guide approach, Fiona Peters's <em>Anxiety and Evil in the Work of Patricia Highsmith</em>.<a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/feed/#footnote_5_2773" id="identifier_4_2773" class="footnote-link footnote-identifier-link" title="See Fiona Peters, &lt;em&gt;Anxiety and Evil in the Work of Patricia Highsmith &lt;/em&gt;(Farnham: Ashgate, 2011). The readers&rsquo; guide is Russell Harrison, &lt;em&gt;Patricia Highsmith&lt;/em&gt; (New York: Twayne, 1997).">5</a> And Highsmith surely would have enjoyed the fact that later this year she will join Henry James, Herman Melville, Harriet Beecher Stowe, and a handful of other luminaries, in receiving an entire chapter to herself (also written by Schenkar) in the new <em>Cambridge Companion to American Novelists</em>.<a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/feed/#footnote_6_2773" id="identifier_5_2773" class="footnote-link footnote-identifier-link" title="See Timothy Parrish (ed.), &lt;em&gt;The Cambridge Companion to American Novelists&lt;/em&gt; (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2012).">6</a></p><p>2003, the year in which Castle's brief but memorable and often-quoted essay on Highsmith in <em>The New Republic </em>was published, was also the year in which two significant books on Highsmith appeared. One was her first major biography, Andrew Wilson's <em>Beautiful Shadow</em>; the other was Marijane Meaker's <em>Highsmith: A Romance of the 1950s</em>, based on the celebrated lesbian-pulp author's relationship with Highsmith.<a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/feed/#footnote_7_2773" id="identifier_6_2773" class="footnote-link footnote-identifier-link" title="See Andrew Wilson, &lt;em&gt;Beautiful Shadow: A Life of Patricia Highsmith&lt;/em&gt; (London: Bloomsbury, 2003); Marijane Meaker, &lt;em&gt;Highsmith: A Romance of the 1950s&lt;/em&gt; (Berkeley: Cleis Press, 2003).">7</a> However, scholarly attention has generally been spotty, sometimes sharp, but, with the exception of Russell Harrison's workmanlike 1997 monograph <em>Patricia Highsmith</em>, limited to a small number of articles and mentions in book chapters. A number of critics have skilfully utilized Highsmith's texts in work pertaining to Cold War strategies of containment, the psychology of violence and sexuality, the politics of the closet and (in the case of <em>The Price of Salt</em>) the history of lesbian pulp fiction.<a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/feed/#footnote_8_2773" id="identifier_7_2773" class="footnote-link footnote-identifier-link" title="Examples include: Slavoj Žižek, &ldquo;When Straight Means Weird and Psychosis is Normal,&rdquo; Dec. 5, 2010; Cassuto, &ldquo;Sentimental Perversion: The Canonized Nonconformists of the 1950s,&rdquo; in &lt;em&gt;Hard-Boiled Sentimentality: The Secret History of American Crime Stories&lt;/em&gt; (New York: Columbia University Press, 2008), pp.123&ndash;50; Castle, &lt;em&gt;The Apparitional Lesbian: Female Homosexuality and Modern Culture&lt;/em&gt; (New York: Columbia University Press, 1995);&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;Alex Tuss, &ldquo;Masculine Identity and Success: A Critical Analysis of Patricia Highsmith&rsquo;s &lt;em&gt;The Talented Mr. Ripley&lt;/em&gt; and Chuck Palahniuk&rsquo;s &lt;em&gt;Fight Club&lt;/em&gt;&rdquo; &lt;em&gt;Journal of Men&rsquo;s Studies&lt;/em&gt; 12.2 (2004): 93&ndash;102; Jonathan Alexander and Deborah Meem. &ldquo;Dorian Gray, Tom Ripley, and the Queer Closet,&rdquo; &lt;em&gt;CLCWeb: Comparative Literature and Culture: A WWWeb Journal&lt;/em&gt; 5.4 (2003): n.p.; Victoria Hesford, &ldquo;Patriotic Perversions: Patricia Highsmith&rsquo;s Queer Vision of Cold War America in &lt;em&gt;The Price of &lt;/em&gt;&lt;em&gt;Salt&lt;/em&gt;, &lt;em&gt;The Blunderer&lt;/em&gt;, and &lt;em&gt;Deep Water,&lt;/em&gt;&rdquo; &lt;em&gt;Women&rsquo;s Studies Quarterly &lt;/em&gt;(&lt;em&gt;WSQ&lt;/em&gt;) 33 (Fall/Winter 2005): 215&ndash;233; Hesford, &ldquo;&lsquo;A Love Flung Out of Space&rsquo;: Lesbians in the City in Patricia Highsmith&rsquo;s &lt;em&gt;The Price of Salt&lt;/em&gt;,&rdquo; &lt;em&gt;Paradoxa &lt;/em&gt;18 (Summer 2003): 117&ndash;135; Edward A. Shannon, &ldquo;&lsquo;Where Was the Sex?&rsquo;: Fetishism and Dirty Minds in Patricia Highsmith&rsquo;s &lt;em&gt;The Talented Mr. Ripley&lt;/em&gt;,&rdquo; &lt;em&gt;Modern Language Studies&lt;/em&gt; 34:1&ndash;2 (2004): 17&ndash;27; William Cook, &ldquo;&lt;em&gt;Ripley&amp;#8217;s Game &lt;/em&gt;and &lt;em&gt;The American Friend&lt;/em&gt;: A Modernist and Postmodernist Comparison.&rdquo; &lt;em&gt;Journal of Popular Culture&lt;/em&gt; 37.3 (2004): 399&ndash;408; and Anthony Channell Hilfer, &ldquo;&amp;#8217;Not Really Such a Monster&amp;#8217;: Highsmith&amp;#8217;s Ripley as Thriller Protagonist and Protean Man,&amp;#8221; &lt;em&gt;Midwest Quarterly&lt;/em&gt; 15.4 (1984): 361&ndash;74. More recent pieces not mentioned elsewhere in this introduction include Rebecca West, &amp;#8220;Insidious Sprezzatura: Liliana Cavani&amp;#8217;s Film Adaptation of Patricia Highsmith&amp;#8217;s Novel,&nbsp;&lt;em&gt;Ripley&amp;#8217;s Game&lt;/em&gt;,&amp;#8221; in &lt;em&gt;Shaping an Identity: Adapting, Rewriting and Remaking Italian Literature&lt;/em&gt;, eds. P. Arancibia et al. (Legas: New York, 2012); and West, &amp;#8220;A Noir at Noon: Ren&eacute; Cl&eacute;ment&amp;#8217;s&nbsp;&lt;em&gt;Plein Soleil&lt;/em&gt;,&amp;#8221; forthcoming in &lt;em&gt;La Valle dell&amp;#8217;Eden&lt;/em&gt;.">8</a> However, the critical floodgates have not really opened<span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span>or are perhaps on the point of doing so now.</p><div class='dashed-hr'></div><table class="footnotes"><tr id="footnote_1_2773" class="footnote"><td class='number'>1.</td><td class='citation'><span class='note'>Leonard Cassuto, "<a href="http://chronicle.com/article/Reality-Catches-Up-to/8824/">Reality Catches Up to Highsmith's Hard-Boiled Fiction</a>," <em>The Chronicle of Higher Education</em>, Feb. 20 2004. For their help with this introduction specifically, thanks are due to James Albritton, Leonard Cassuto, Chad Eggleston, Mary Esteve, Elizabeth Hutcheon, Mandy McMichael, and Michael Trask.</span></td></tr><tr id="footnote_2_2773" class="footnote"><td class='number'>2.</td><td class='citation'><span class='note'>Terry Castle, "The Ick Factor," <em>The New Republic</em>, Nov. 10 2003: 28.</span></td></tr><tr id="footnote_3_2773" class="footnote"><td class='number'>3.</td><td class='citation'><span class='note'>See Robert Polito (ed.), <em>Crime Novels: American Noir of the 1950s</em> (New York: The Library of America, 1997).</span></td></tr><tr id="footnote_4_2773" class="footnote"><td class='number'>4.</td><td class='citation'><span class='note'>See Joan Schenkar, <em>The Talented Miss Highsmith: The Secret Life and Serious Art of Patricia Highsmith</em> (New York: St. Martin's Press, 2009); Schenkar, <em>The Talented Miss Highsmith: The Secret Life and Serious Art of Patricia Highsmith</em> (New York: Picador, 2011).</span></td></tr><tr id="footnote_5_2773" class="footnote"><td class='number'>5.</td><td class='citation'><span class='note'>See Fiona Peters, <em>Anxiety and Evil in the Work of Patricia Highsmith </em>(Farnham: Ashgate, 2011). The readers' guide is Russell Harrison, <em>Patricia Highsmith</em> (New York: Twayne, 1997).</span></td></tr><tr id="footnote_6_2773" class="footnote"><td class='number'>6.</td><td class='citation'><span class='note'>See Timothy Parrish (ed.), <em>The Cambridge Companion to American Novelists</em> (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2012).</span></td></tr><tr id="footnote_7_2773" class="footnote"><td class='number'>7.</td><td class='citation'><span class='note'>See Andrew Wilson, <em>Beautiful Shadow: A Life of Patricia Highsmith</em> (London: Bloomsbury, 2003); Marijane Meaker, <em>Highsmith: A Romance of the 1950s</em> (Berkeley: Cleis Press, 2003).</span></td></tr><tr id="footnote_8_2773" class="footnote"><td class='number'>8.</td><td class='citation'><span class='note'>Examples include: Slavoj Žižek, "<a href="http://www.lacan.com/ripley.html">When Straight Means Weird and Psychosis is Normal</a>," Dec. 5, 2010; Cassuto, "Sentimental Perversion: The Canonized Nonconformists of the 1950s," in <em>Hard-Boiled Sentimentality: The Secret History of American Crime Stories</em> (New York: Columbia University Press, 2008), pp.123-50; Castle, <em>The Apparitional Lesbian: Female Homosexuality and Modern Culture</em> (New York: Columbia University Press, 1995);<em> </em>Alex Tuss, "Masculine Identity and Success: A Critical Analysis of Patricia Highsmith's <em>The Talented Mr. Ripley</em> and Chuck Palahniuk's <em>Fight Club</em>" <em>Journal of Men's Studies</em> 12.2 (2004): 93-102; Jonathan Alexander and Deborah Meem. "Dorian Gray, Tom Ripley, and the Queer Closet," <em>CLCWeb: Comparative Literature and Culture: A WWWeb Journal</em> 5.4 (2003): n.p.; Victoria Hesford, "Patriotic Perversions: Patricia Highsmith's Queer Vision of Cold War America in <em>The Price of </em><em>Salt</em>, <em>The Blunderer</em>, and <em>Deep Water,</em>" <em>Women's Studies Quarterly </em>(<em>WSQ</em>) 33 (Fall/Winter 2005): 215-233; Hesford, "'A Love Flung Out of Space': Lesbians in the City in Patricia Highsmith's <em>The Price of Salt</em>," <em>Paradoxa </em>18 (Summer 2003): 117-135; Edward A. Shannon, "'Where Was the Sex?': Fetishism and Dirty Minds in Patricia Highsmith's <em>The Talented Mr. Ripley</em>," <em>Modern Language Studies</em> 34:1-2 (2004): 17-27; William Cook, "<em>Ripley&#8217;s Game </em>and <em>The American Friend</em>: A Modernist and Postmodernist Comparison." <em>Journal of Popular Culture</em> 37.3 (2004): 399-408; and Anthony Channell Hilfer, "&#8217;Not Really Such a Monster&#8217;: Highsmith&#8217;s Ripley as Thriller Protagonist and Protean Man,&#8221; <em>Midwest Quarterly</em> 15.4 (1984): 361-74. More recent pieces not mentioned elsewhere in this introduction include Rebecca West, &#8220;Insidious Sprezzatura: Liliana Cavani&#8217;s Film Adaptation of Patricia Highsmith&#8217;s Novel, <em>Ripley&#8217;s Game</em>,&#8221; in <em>Shaping an Identity: Adapting, Rewriting and Remaking Italian Literature</em>, eds. P. Arancibia et al. (Legas: New York, 2012); and West, &#8220;A Noir at Noon: René Clément&#8217;s <em>Plein Soleil</em>,&#8221; forthcoming in <em>La Valle dell&#8217;Eden</em>.</span></td></tr></table>]]></content:encoded>
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			<title>The Ethical Animal: From Peter Singer to Patricia Highsmith</title>
			<link>http://post45.research.yale.edu/2012/11/the-ethical-animal-from-peter-singer-to-patricia-highsmith/?utm_source=rss&#038;utm_medium=rss&#038;utm_campaign=the-ethical-animal-from-peter-singer-to-patricia-highsmith</link>
			<comments>http://post45.research.yale.edu/2012/11/the-ethical-animal-from-peter-singer-to-patricia-highsmith/#comments</comments>
			<pubDate>Wed, 28 Nov 2012 19:31:34 +0000</pubDate>
			<dc:creator>Michael Trask</dc:creator>
			<category><![CDATA[Peer Reviewed]]></category>
			<category><![CDATA[ongrid]]></category>
			<category><![CDATA[spot5]]></category>
			<guid isPermaLink="false">http://post45.research.yale.edu/?p=2877</guid>
			<description><![CDATA[Michael Trask]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<h2>Recognizing Animal Studies</h2><p>This essay places in dialogue the work of Peter Singer, the utilitarian philosopher of animal liberation, and Patricia Highsmith, whose fiction of the early 1970s takes a curious interest in the topic of animal welfare. My argument will partly be that animals enter the ethical stage for Singer at a moment when utilitarianism comes under fire from a contract ethics that Singer rejects on the assumption that such ethics cannot be reconciled with our obligations to non-contractual creatures to whom we nonetheless owe consideration. For this reason, I argue, Singer has proved especially unwelcome among scholars of contemporary animal studies who insist that what matters in animal-human relations is an ethics of reciprocity. Highsmith's <em>A Dog's Ransom </em>(1972) and <em>The Animal-Lover's Book of Beastly Murder </em>(1975) set in play a contest between utility and contract in regard to human-animal relations, and arrive at conclusions that look awfully close to Singer's. By way of her interest in animals as the subjects and objects of brute violence, Highsmith also allows us a novel vantage on the fascination among contemporary ethicists with fictive scenarios, not unlike the novelist's own, in which the crucial issue is whether the killing of other people is permissible or blameworthy. In this section, I consider the vexing role Singer occupies among contemporary theorists of what Kari Weil calls "the animal turn."<a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/feed/#footnote_1_2877" id="identifier_0_2877" class="footnote-link footnote-identifier-link" title="Kari Weil, &lt;em&gt;Thinking Animals: Why Animal Studies Now?&lt;/em&gt; (New York: Columbia University Press, 2012), 3.">1</a> In the next section, I situate Highsmith's animal fiction in the context of the debate between utilitarian and contract ethics. In the essay's final section, I connect the murder weapon in Highsmith's most politicized animal story<span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span>a pulled lever in "The Day of Reckoning," which focuses on battery-farmed chickens<span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span>to the pervasive interest among many philosophers in the seeming non-agency, and dramatic outcomes, of actions like button-pushing.</p><p>It may seem perverse to couple Singer (whose whole career might be said to comprise a reply to the question "Why be moral?") with Highsmith (whose whole career might be said to comprise a steadfast indifference to that question). Yet Singer is somewhat notorious for what many observers (and more than a few philosophers) take to be a calculating heartlessness reminiscent of Highsmith's vintage sociopaths. "We can't take our feelings as moral data, immune from rational criticism," he writes in his response to J.M. Coetzee's 1999 Tanner Lectures, <em>The Lives of Animals</em>.<a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/feed/#footnote_2_2877" id="identifier_1_2877" class="footnote-link footnote-identifier-link" title="Cited in J.M. Coetzee, &lt;em&gt;The Lives of Animals &lt;/em&gt;(Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2001), 89.">2</a> This typically hardboiled comment is occasioned by Singer's encounter with the fictional Elizabeth Costello, who maintains that more recognition of our feelings toward animals affords a more nuanced sense of our duties to them. Thus "when we divert the current of feeling that flows between ourself [sic] and the animal into words," Costello asserts, "we abstract it forever from the animal."<a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/feed/#footnote_3_2877" id="identifier_2_2877" class="footnote-link footnote-identifier-link" title="Ibid., 51.">3</a> For Singer by contrast, the proper tendency of ethics is away from feeling <em>toward</em> abstraction. All that matters in our moral obligations toward animals is <em>that</em> they feel<span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span>or, more exactly, that they are capable of feeling pleasure and pain.</p><p>Singer's strictly utilitarian notion of "feeling" is something of an outlier within the emerging field of animal studies. For many scholars involved in that field, the crucial issue regarding our ethical relation to animals is not the simple or uncontroversial fact that animals feel, or even Coetzee's (or Costello's) less simple or more controversial point that we should take our feelings about animals into account, but rather how animals feel about <em>us</em>. This is perhaps too glib a way of putting the matter. What I mean to highlight is the large number of scholars in animal studies who, taking their lead for the study of ethics from Emmanuel Levinas, seek to assert the primacy of reciprocity in relations between humans and nonhumans. In "The Name of a Dog" (1975), Levinas records a wartime memory of his internment in a German P.O.W. camp, where "halfway through our long captivity," a "cherished dog" named Bobby "would appear at morning assembly and was waiting for us as we returned, jumping up and down and barking in delight. For him, there was no doubt that we were men." On account of his powers of recognition, Levinas dubs Bobby "the last Kantian in Nazi Germany, without the brain needed to universalize maxims."<a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/feed/#footnote_4_2877" id="identifier_3_2877" class="footnote-link footnote-identifier-link" title="Emmanuel Levinas, &lt;em&gt;Difficult Freedom: Essays on Judaism&lt;/em&gt;, trans. Sean Hand (Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1990), 153.">4</a> And on account of his relegating Bobby's generosity to no more than instinct, it would be more accurate to say that for scholars of animal studies, Levinas is less the sponsor of their project than its point of departure, insofar as these thinkers infer from his story a more radical conclusion than Levinas himself was willing to reach.</p><p>For Matthew Calarco, Levinas's story is "proto-ethical" but realizes "no politics or ethics proper" since Levinas fails to recognize "the ethical gift" that Bobby gives when he opts to "pause in his struggle for existence to <em>be with</em> the prisoners and to offer them what he can: his vitality, excitement, and affection."<a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/feed/#footnote_5_2877" id="identifier_4_2877" class="footnote-link footnote-identifier-link" title="Matthew Calarco, &lt;em&gt;Zoographies: The Question of the Animal from Heidegger to Derrida&lt;/em&gt; (New York: Columbia University Press, 2008), 58, 59. Hereafter cited in parentheses in the body of the essay.">5</a> Calarco's exegesis is reparative; it closes the gap in Levinas's parable between the dog as mere instrument for ratifying the humanity of the prisoners of war and "an animal who faces me, an interruption deriving from a singular 'animal,' an animal whom I face and by whom I am faced" (5). Given the primacy of "face" in Levinas's ethics ("The face opens the primordial discourse whose first word is obligation," he writes in <em>Totality and Infinity</em><a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/feed/#footnote_6_2877" id="identifier_5_2877" class="footnote-link footnote-identifier-link" title="Emmanuel Levinas, &lt;em&gt;Totality and Infinity: An Essay on Exteriority&lt;/em&gt; (Pittsburgh, PA: Duquesne University Press, 1969), 201.">6</a>), we might say that Calarco grants Bobby a face that Levinas wills himself not to see. By working through his "anthropocentric dogmatisms" (14), Calarco reveals a Levinas who confirms rather than ignores the fact that the dog is a moral agent in his own right.</p><div class='dashed-hr'></div><table class="footnotes"><tr id="footnote_1_2877" class="footnote"><td class='number'>1.</td><td class='citation'><span class='note'>Kari Weil, <em>Thinking Animals: Why Animal Studies Now?</em> (New York: Columbia University Press, 2012), 3.</span></td></tr><tr id="footnote_2_2877" class="footnote"><td class='number'>2.</td><td class='citation'><span class='note'>Cited in J.M. Coetzee, <em>The Lives of Animals </em>(Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2001), 89.</span></td></tr><tr id="footnote_3_2877" class="footnote"><td class='number'>3.</td><td class='citation'><span class='note'>Ibid., 51.</span></td></tr><tr id="footnote_4_2877" class="footnote"><td class='number'>4.</td><td class='citation'><span class='note'>Emmanuel Levinas, <em>Difficult Freedom: Essays on Judaism</em>, trans. Sean Hand (Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1990), 153.</span></td></tr><tr id="footnote_5_2877" class="footnote"><td class='number'>5.</td><td class='citation'><span class='note'>Matthew Calarco, <em>Zoographies: The Question of the Animal from Heidegger to Derrida</em> (New York: Columbia University Press, 2008), 58, 59. Hereafter cited in parentheses in the body of the essay.</span></td></tr><tr id="footnote_6_2877" class="footnote"><td class='number'>6.</td><td class='citation'><span class='note'>Emmanuel Levinas, <em>Totality and Infinity: An Essay on Exteriority</em> (Pittsburgh, PA: Duquesne University Press, 1969), 201.</span></td></tr></table>]]></content:encoded>
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			<title>The Importance of Rescuing the Frog: What We Don’t Talk About When We Talk About the Climate Crisis</title>
			<link>http://post45.research.yale.edu/2012/10/the-importance-of-rescuing-the-frog-what-we-don%e2%80%99t-talk-about-when-we-talk-about-the-climate-crisis/?utm_source=rss&#038;utm_medium=rss&#038;utm_campaign=the-importance-of-rescuing-the-frog-what-we-don%25e2%2580%2599t-talk-about-when-we-talk-about-the-climate-crisis</link>
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			<pubDate>Sun, 14 Oct 2012 22:00:39 +0000</pubDate>
			<dc:creator>Andrew Hoberek</dc:creator>
			<category><![CDATA[Contemporaries]]></category>
			<guid isPermaLink="false">http://post45.research.yale.edu/?p=2940</guid>
			<description><![CDATA[Lee Zimmerman]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>On September 21, 2009, at the Wollman Rink in Central Park, I participated in the Human Countdown, a climate change action prompted by the presence of the UN Climate Summit in NYC that week. Organized by Oxfam and <a href="http://tcktcktck.org">tcktcktck</a>, and co-sponsored by a number of other notable progressive, grassroots organizations<strong>, </strong>the action devoted itself to the message that time was running out<span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span>that the window was closing for any chance to forestall the most apocalyptic consequences of anthropogenic global warming. While I was grateful for an occasion to help publicly speak this awful truth, the event for me was finally quite disheartening. Indeed, as I hope to show, the gathering, in trying to disrupt the pervasive cultural denial of that more than inconvenient truth, replayed some of that denial's crucial elements. In this, it represented an aversion to reckoning with what <em>kind</em> of knowledge a meaningful response to the climate crisis might demand. This denial of what we might call traumatic knowledge is widely enacted even in culturally prominent attempts to raise the alarm, as I'll also try to show by examining the leading scientific attempt to raise that alarm, James Hansen's <em>Storms of My Grandchildren</em>, and the most prominent example of climate change activism to date, the Tar Sands Action of August, 2011.</p><h2>Cheering the End</h2><p>Organizers of the Human Countdown<a href="http://www.centralpark.com/events/show/818/human-countdown"> invited people</a> to participate in a "moving human sculpture of our world in a race against time" in order to "tell world leaders that the TIME TO ACT IS RUNNING OUT." Wearing light blue ponchos, some participants formed a giant hourglass. Others, wearing either blue (the oceans) or green (land), formed a giant planet earth in the upper bell. As the sculpture/performance/photo-op started, staged for a camera perched high overhead on a crane, through the speakers came a loud, recorded "tick, tick, tick, tick." Then a pop song<span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span>"How can we dance when our earth is turning? / How do we sleep while our beds are burning?"<span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span>accompanied the earth as it flowed down into the lower bell, the greens and blues rearranging themselves there to spell "tck tck tck." Finally, everyone in the lower bell raised an arm straight up and, as the music faded, leaving only the loud, "tick tick tick," each raised arm<span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span>a clock's second hand<span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span>ticked off the final seconds. Then silence. Time had run out.</p><p>And then everyone cheered. Instructed by the director, we waved our arms above our heads and loudly cheered, a sustained celebration aimed at the camera hovering on a crane, high above.</p><p>I don't know if anyone else thought that perhaps the end of the world represented precisely the wrong moment for spirited celebration. (Nonplussed, but wanting to be a good sport, I waved my arms and raised my voice in a forlorn wail<span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span>an act of mourning I knew that to the camera would look and sound gleeful, dissolved in the festive crowd.) But I did ask several participants what they thought of this strange sequence. A few acknowledged its oddness, but even they fell back on what seemed the universal assumption: it's important to be "positive"; no one will listen and participants will feel discouraged if we're too "negative." Indeed, although the event was purportedly prompted by an existential threat, it was framed in advance in breezily "positive" terms. A "fun" event, "it's a fantastic way to spend a Sunday in the park," one message put it<span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span>"and it's great for kids." "Don't miss this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity!" <a href="http://www.streetsblog.org/2009/09/14/human-countdown-a-climate-wake-up-call/">gushed another</a>. And retrospective responses continued the cheerfulness, <a href="http://tcktcktck.org/2009/09/human-countdown-wakes-climate-movement/">a typical one reporting</a> that "the energy in the park was amazing with happy people from all walks of life.&#8221; In light of the traumatic, impending catastrophe the action ostensibly represented and warned against, why were these people so happy?</p><p>This determination to remain "positive" reminded me of a paradigmatic moment in Al Gore's still hugely influential construction of the public story of the climate crisis. In <em>An Inconvenient Truth</em>, Gore explicates the emergency with a familiar (though not biologically accurate) analogy: "a frog that jumps into a pot of boiling water . . . immediately jumps out again. The same frog, finding itself in a pot of lukewarm water that is being slowly brought to a boil, will simply stay in the water<span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span>in spite of the danger" (254). Commenting on why, as he tells the story in his lectures, he began to intervene in the frog's fate, Gore explains: "I used to recount this story . . . . with a different ending . . . : 'until the frog is boiled.' But after dozens of slide-shows were followed by at least one anguished listener . . . expressing concern for the fate of the frog, I finally learned the importance of rescuing the frog." Like the "happy people from all walks of life" enjoying "a fantastic way to spend a Sunday in the park" as they cheer the end of the world, Gore supplants the catastrophic ending with a happy one.</p>]]></content:encoded>
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			<title>Pynchon’s Malta</title>
			<link>http://post45.research.yale.edu/2012/10/pynchons-malta/?utm_source=rss&#038;utm_medium=rss&#038;utm_campaign=pynchons-malta</link>
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			<pubDate>Mon, 01 Oct 2012 14:26:32 +0000</pubDate>
			<dc:creator>David J. Alworth</dc:creator>
			<category><![CDATA[Peer Reviewed]]></category>
			<category><![CDATA[ongrid]]></category>
			<category><![CDATA[spot6]]></category>
			<guid isPermaLink="false">http://post45.research.yale.edu/?p=2659</guid>
			<description><![CDATA[ David J. Alworth]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<div id="attachment_2703" class="wp-caption aligncenter" style="width: 660px"><a rel="attachment wp-att-2703" href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/2012/10/pynchons-malta/1-bombed-malta/"><img class="size-full wp-image-2703" title="Bombed Malta" src="http://post45.research.yale.edu/wp-content/uploads/2012/09/1-Bombed-Malta-e1349099769581.jpeg" alt="" width="650" height="492" /></a><p class="wp-caption-text">A heavily bombarded Valletta. Credit: J.E. Russell.</p></div><p><strong> </strong><br />The Cold War era was not a happy time to be a mannequin. On May 5, 1955, the United States dropped a nuclear bomb at the Nevada Test Site on a mannequin population living in a model suburban neighborhood that included all the essential buildings: a fire station, a school, a library, and a tract of single-family homes outfitted with the latest consumer durables, the appliances and amenities that Nixon would later celebrate to Khrushchev in the 1959 Kitchen Debate. After the blast, which was dubbed "Operation Cue" and <a href="http://archive.org/details/Operatio1955">viewed on television</a> by one hundred million people, officials and volunteers began the post-apocalyptic cleanup<span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span>rummaging through the rubble in search of torched and dismembered dummies, inspecting large-scale infrastructural damage, salvaging foodstuffs. Chicken potpies were excavated from underground bulk freezers and tested for radiation, nutritional value, color, and flavor; roast beef and baked beans, accompanied by tomato juice and coffee, were prepared on-site and served to rescue teams administering first aid to the wounded. The most severe cases were helicoptered to nearby hospitals, while others were sent on national tour, artfully displayed in J. C. Penney stores, still dressed in the scorched tatters of an otherwise stylish wardrobe. These mannequins (displayed with a sign that read "this could be you!") invited American citizens to imagine themselves as the battered survivors of a nuclear attack while encouraging them, as the anthropologist Joseph Masco explains, "to contemplate life within a postnuclear ruin."<a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/feed/#footnote_1_2659" id="identifier_0_2659" class="footnote-link footnote-identifier-link" title="Joseph Masco, &ldquo;&lsquo;Survival is Your Business&rsquo;: Engineering Ruins and Affect in Nuclear America,&rdquo; &lt;em&gt;Cultural Anthropology&lt;/em&gt; 23.2 (2008): 361&ndash;398. Also see Laura McEnaney, &lt;em&gt;Civil Defense Begins at Home: Militarization Meets Everyday Life in the Fifties&lt;/em&gt; (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2000), 54&ndash;55.">1</a></p><p>As a result of work at the Nevada Test Site, the United States is the most nuclear-bombed country on earth, and spectacles like "Operation Cue" reveal that Cold War American culture was marked by a perverse fixation on ruins and ruination, particularly in the period from the mid-1950s to the mid-1960s.<a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/feed/#footnote_2_2659" id="identifier_1_2659" class="footnote-link footnote-identifier-link" title="Following Paul Boyer, Daniel Grausam calls these years a &ldquo;crisis point&rdquo; in the Cold War (Daniel Grausam, &lt;em&gt;On Endings: American Postmodern Fiction and the Cold War&lt;/em&gt; [Charlottesville, VA: University of Virginia Press, 2011], 57). The scholarly bibliography on American Cold War culture is vast; in addition to the sources listed above, I have learned from the following: Joseph Masco, &lt;em&gt;The Nuclear Borderlands: The Manhattan Project in Post&ndash;Cold War New Mexico&lt;/em&gt; (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2006); Deak Nabers, &ldquo;Hiroshima and the Nuclear Event,&rdquo; &lt;em&gt;Post45&lt;/em&gt;, September 12, 2011 (accessed March 7, 2012); Alan Nadel, &lt;em&gt;Containment Culture: American Narratives, Postmodernism, and the Atomic Age&lt;/em&gt; (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 1995); and Paul Boyer, &lt;em&gt;By the Bomb&rsquo;s Early Light: American Thought and Culture at the Dawn of the Atomic Age&lt;/em&gt; (Chapel Hill, NC: University of North Carolina Press, 1994). Much of this scholarship engages a more theoretical discourse, what Nabers calls &ldquo;the contentious and animated discussion&rdquo; surrounding nuclear weapons, that includes among other titles: Jacques Derrida, &ldquo;No Apocalypse, Not Now (full speed ahead, seven missiles, seven missives),&rdquo; &lt;em&gt;Diacritics&lt;/em&gt; 14.2 (1984): 20&ndash;32; Martin Heidegger, &lt;em&gt;The Question Concerning Technology and Other Essays,&lt;/em&gt; trans. William Lovitt (New York: Harper and Row, 1977); Heidegger, &lt;em&gt;Poetry, Language, Thought,&lt;/em&gt; trans. Albert Hofstadter (New York: HarperCollins, 1971); Paul Virilio and Sylv&eacute;re Lotringer, &lt;em&gt;Pure War, &lt;/em&gt;trans. Mark Polizzotti (New York: Semiotext(e), 1997); Elaine Scarry, &lt;em&gt;The Body in Pain: The Making and Unmaking of the World&lt;/em&gt; (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1985); and Rey Chow, &lt;em&gt;The Age of the World Target: Self-Referentiality in War, Theory, and Comparative Work&lt;/em&gt; (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2006). Focusing on ruins, this article is informed more directly by a different though related body of theoretical writing (see notes 13&ndash;19).">2</a> During this period, Thomas Pynchon turned his attention to the ruins of World War II-era Malta, a tiny archipelago that lies approximately ninety kilometers south of Sicily.<a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/feed/#footnote_3_2659" id="identifier_2_2659" class="footnote-link footnote-identifier-link" title="In what follows, I build on the meticulous work of Arnold Cassola, who has examined Pynchon&rsquo;s archival and ethnographic research on Malta; see Cassola, &ldquo;Pynchon, &lt;em&gt;V.,&lt;/em&gt; and the Malta Connection,&rdquo; &lt;em&gt;Journal of Modern Literature&lt;/em&gt; 12.2 (July 1985): 311&ndash;331.">3</a> Among the most poignant and perplexing scenes in <em>V.</em><span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span>the remarkable debut novel that he published in 1963<span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span>are those conjuring "bombed-out buildings" and "buff-colored rubble."<a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/feed/#footnote_4_2659" id="identifier_3_2659" class="footnote-link footnote-identifier-link" title="Thomas Pynchon, &lt;em&gt;V.&lt;/em&gt; (New York: Harper Perennial Modern Classics, 2005), 423. Hereafter cited parenthetically in the text.">4</a> Examining several of these scenes in the context of the Cold War, this essay develops two interrelated claims. The first is that Pynchon deploys what I will define as the logic of the ruin in his representation of Maltese ruins, thereby establishing a complex, mimetic relationship between <em>V.</em> and one of the sites that it so vividly depicts. The second is that Pynchon, through his specification of Maltese ruins, engaged a formal and conceptual paradox, representation without resemblance, which animated the emergence of site specificity in the visual and plastic arts. These claims will unfold through a critical practice that I want to name site reading<span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span>examining the relation between a literary setting (Pynchon's Malta) and one of the real, material sites that helped to inspire it<span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span>which I will define most fully in the final section of this essay. In short, site reading devotes to setting the sort of attention that is most often reserved for other literary elements, such as plot, character, and theme, as a means of apprehending how literature mediates the tangible world, thereby perpetuating the materialist emphasis of recent literary-critical scholarship, while posing new historical and conceptual questions.</p><div class='dashed-hr'></div><table class="footnotes"><tr id="footnote_1_2659" class="footnote"><td class='number'>1.</td><td class='citation'><span class='note'>Joseph Masco, "'Survival is Your Business': Engineering Ruins and Affect in Nuclear America," <em>Cultural Anthropology</em> 23.2 (2008): 361-398. Also see Laura McEnaney, <em>Civil Defense Begins at Home: Militarization Meets Everyday Life in the Fifties</em> (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2000), 54-55.</span></td></tr><tr id="footnote_2_2659" class="footnote"><td class='number'>2.</td><td class='citation'><span class='note'>Following Paul Boyer, Daniel Grausam calls these years a "crisis point" in the Cold War (Daniel Grausam, <em>On Endings: American Postmodern Fiction and the Cold War</em> [Charlottesville, VA: University of Virginia Press, 2011], 57). The scholarly bibliography on American Cold War culture is vast; in addition to the sources listed above, I have learned from the following: Joseph Masco, <em>The Nuclear Borderlands: The Manhattan Project in Post-Cold War New Mexico</em> (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2006); Deak Nabers, "<a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/archives/744">Hiroshima and the Nuclear Event</a>," <em>Post45</em>, September 12, 2011 (accessed March 7, 2012); Alan Nadel, <em>Containment Culture: American Narratives, Postmodernism, and the Atomic Age</em> (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 1995); and Paul Boyer, <em>By the Bomb's Early Light: American Thought and Culture at the Dawn of the Atomic Age</em> (Chapel Hill, NC: University of North Carolina Press, 1994). Much of this scholarship engages a more theoretical discourse, what Nabers calls "the contentious and animated discussion" surrounding nuclear weapons, that includes among other titles: Jacques Derrida, "No Apocalypse, Not Now (full speed ahead, seven missiles, seven missives)," <em>Diacritics</em> 14.2 (1984): 20-32; Martin Heidegger, <em>The Question Concerning Technology and Other Essays,</em> trans. William Lovitt (New York: Harper and Row, 1977); Heidegger, <em>Poetry, Language, Thought,</em> trans. Albert Hofstadter (New York: HarperCollins, 1971); Paul Virilio and Sylvére Lotringer, <em>Pure War, </em>trans. Mark Polizzotti (New York: Semiotext(e), 1997); Elaine Scarry, <em>The Body in Pain: The Making and Unmaking of the World</em> (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1985); and Rey Chow, <em>The Age of the World Target: Self-Referentiality in War, Theory, and Comparative Work</em> (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2006). Focusing on ruins, this article is informed more directly by a different though related body of theoretical writing (see notes 13-19).</span></td></tr><tr id="footnote_3_2659" class="footnote"><td class='number'>3.</td><td class='citation'><span class='note'>In what follows, I build on the meticulous work of Arnold Cassola, who has examined Pynchon's archival and ethnographic research on Malta; see Cassola, "Pynchon, <em>V.,</em> and the Malta Connection," <em>Journal of Modern Literature</em> 12.2 (July 1985): 311-331.</span></td></tr><tr id="footnote_4_2659" class="footnote"><td class='number'>4.</td><td class='citation'><span class='note'>Thomas Pynchon, <em>V.</em> (New York: Harper Perennial Modern Classics, 2005), 423. Hereafter cited parenthetically in the text.</span></td></tr></table>]]></content:encoded>
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			<title>Coming Soon: A Cluster on Patricia Highsmith</title>
			<link>http://post45.research.yale.edu/2012/10/coming-soon-a-cluster-on-patricia-highsmith/?utm_source=rss&#038;utm_medium=rss&#038;utm_campaign=coming-soon-a-cluster-on-patricia-highsmith</link>
			<comments>http://post45.research.yale.edu/2012/10/coming-soon-a-cluster-on-patricia-highsmith/#comments</comments>
			<pubDate>Mon, 01 Oct 2012 13:20:26 +0000</pubDate>
			<dc:creator>Joe Stadolnik</dc:creator>
			<category><![CDATA[Announcements]]></category>
			<guid isPermaLink="false">http://post45.research.yale.edu/?p=2783</guid>
			<description><![CDATA[Later this fall in Peer Reviewed, four articles on Patricia Highsmith will be considering: Highsmith &#38; weaponized chickens (Michael Trask) Highsmith &#38; Superman (Mark Seltzer) Highsmith &#38; tiny candlestick holders...]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Later this fall in <em>Peer Reviewed</em>, four articles on Patricia Highsmith will be considering:</p><ul><li>Highsmith &amp; weaponized chickens (Michael Trask)</li><li>Highsmith &amp; Superman (Mark Seltzer)</li><li>Highsmith &amp; tiny candlestick holders (Mary Esteve)<strong></strong></li></ul><p>Co-edited by Tom Perrin and Mary Esteve.</p>]]></content:encoded>
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			<title>Chandler’s Hardboiled England: World War II, Imperialism, and Transatlantic Exchange</title>
			<link>http://post45.research.yale.edu/2012/07/chandlers-hardboiled-england-world-war-ii-imperialism-and-transatlantic-exchange/?utm_source=rss&#038;utm_medium=rss&#038;utm_campaign=chandlers-hardboiled-england-world-war-ii-imperialism-and-transatlantic-exchange</link>
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			<pubDate>Mon, 16 Jul 2012 05:00:06 +0000</pubDate>
			<dc:creator>Will Norman</dc:creator>
			<category><![CDATA[Peer Reviewed]]></category>
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			<guid isPermaLink="false">http://post45.research.yale.edu/?p=2611</guid>
			<description><![CDATA[Will Norman]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p style="padding-left: 30px;">In some strange way to be English is, often, to be a member of a cult of the dead, or, at the very least, a member of a cult of ruin.</p><p style="padding-left: 30px;">&#8211;Ian Baucom, <em>Englishness, Empire and the Locations of Identity</em><a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/feed/#footnote_1_2611" id="identifier_0_2611" class="footnote-link footnote-identifier-link" title="Ian Baucom, &lt;em&gt;Englishness, Empire and the Locations of Identity&lt;/em&gt; (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1999), p. 175.">1</a></p><p>Raymond Chandler often liked to remind his friends and correspondents of his English public school education at Dulwich College in South London. Dulwich, he explained to his publisher Blanche Knopf in 1940, was "one of the larger English Public Schools, not ranking with Eton, Harrow, Charterhouse or Marlborough, but certainly ranking ahead of many of those which <em>Life </em>made a fuss over in its last issue."<a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/feed/#footnote_2_2611" id="identifier_1_2611" class="footnote-link footnote-identifier-link" title="Raymond Chandler, &lt;em&gt;Selected Letters of Raymond Chandler&lt;/em&gt;, ed. Frank MacShane (London: Jonathan Cape, 1995), p. 15. Henceforth abbreviated as &lt;em&gt;SL&lt;/em&gt;. Subsequent citations are from this edition and will be given parenthetically in the text.">2</a> <em>Life </em>had run a short piece on public schools as part of a long photo-essay dedicated to "England" as Britain began its first major combat operations of World War II. Portraying a strange and distant country divided by class-based inequality and eccentric customs, <em>Life </em>described England's greatest contributions to civilization as "free speech and tea."<a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/feed/#footnote_3_2611" id="identifier_2_2611" class="footnote-link footnote-identifier-link" title="&ldquo;England,&rdquo; &lt;em&gt;Life Magazine&lt;/em&gt;, June 3, 1940, p. 78.">3</a> Chandler noted, with some irritation, the magazine's inability to differentiate between a &#8216;school tie&#8217; and an &#8216;old school tie.&#8217;<a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/feed/#footnote_4_2611" id="identifier_3_2611" class="footnote-link footnote-identifier-link" title="Old school ties are of a different design to school ties, and are entitled to be worn only by former pupils after leaving their public school.">4</a> Though he had dwelt in Southern California since 1912, he counted himself an expert in such matters. "I daresay these pathetic relics of a lost world are no longer worth accuracy," he went on (<em>SL</em> 15). However, if the onset of twentieth-century modernity had threatened the distinction of such badges of rank and status, then it was not quite true that Chandler himself had given up on them. In his 1953 novel <em>The Long Goodbye</em>, the narrative's fulcrum<span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span>Philip Marlowe's discovery of Eileen Wade's duplicity<span class='emdash'>&mdash;</span>turns upon his knowledge of British regimental badges from World War II. The badge she wears, and which she claims was given to her by Terry Lennox during his service in the Artists' Rifles, bears in fact a Special Air Service insigne and was not created until 1947, several years after his supposed death. Confronted with Marlowe's accusation, she admits that it is a reproduction bought in a New York shop specializing in "imported British luxuries, things like leather goods, hand-made brogues, regimental and school ties and cricket blazers, knickknacks with coats of arms on them and so on."<a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/feed/#footnote_5_2611" id="identifier_4_2611" class="footnote-link footnote-identifier-link" title="Raymond Chandler, &lt;em&gt;The Long Goodbye&lt;/em&gt;, in &lt;em&gt;Later Novels and Other Writings&lt;/em&gt;, ed. Frank MacShane (New York: Library of America, 1995), p. 667. Subsequent citations are from this edition and will be given parenthetically in the text.">5</a> The badge is a simulacrum of English prestige offered for sale across the Atlantic, and Chandler has lent Marlowe the authority to discriminate among such signs of upper-class gentility. If we accept Franco Moretti's classic thesis that the conservative structure of detective fiction demands the restoration of the social order, "to reinstate a preceding situation, a return to the beginning," then we might add that in Chandler's work this process included the rehabilitation of a certain form of endangered English authenticity along with the class-based hierarchy which authorizes it.<a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/feed/#footnote_6_2611" id="identifier_5_2611" class="footnote-link footnote-identifier-link" title="Franco Moretti, &lt;em&gt;Signs Taken for Wonders: Essays on the Sociology of Literary Forms&lt;/em&gt;, trans. D. Miller, David Forgacs and S. Fischer (London: Verso, 2005), p. 137.">6</a> In the case of both the old school tie and the regimental badge, Chandler's concern is to defend England's "pathetic relics" from appropriation by a foreign other. The interesting point for our analysis is that this other is not, as one might expect, Britain's enemy in World War II, but its ally, the United States.</p><p>My aim here is to reorientate our sense of Chandler's hardboiled fiction by understanding such transatlantic dynamics to betoken deeper structures of affiliation and exchange between his own sense of belated, embattled Englishness and the changing status of the United States as it developed into a global superpower in the first half of the twentieth century. These structures played a determining role in shaping a generic form which is often misrecognized as a pure native species.<a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/feed/#footnote_7_2611" id="identifier_6_2611" class="footnote-link footnote-identifier-link" title="Recent examples of native genealogies for hardboiled fiction include Leonard Casutto, &lt;em&gt;Hardboiled Sentimentality: The Secret History of American Crime Stories&lt;/em&gt; (New York: Columbia University Press, 2009), p. 4; Andrew Pepper, &ldquo;The Hardboiled Genre,&rdquo; in &lt;em&gt;A Companion to Crime Fiction&lt;/em&gt;, ed. Charles Rzepka and Lee Horsley (Chichester, UK: Wiley-Blackwell, 2010), p. 140.">7</a> While Chandler's reputation as a paradigmatic figure in hardboiled literary history tends to entail an evasion of his transatlantic dialectic, I wish to suggest how the ghosts of his English cultural adolescence around the turn of twentieth century continued to haunt him throughout his mature career. My spectral imagery is not incidental, for in my reading of <em>The Long Goodbye </em>and "English Summer: A Gothic Romance," I will be examining the ways in which English presence is constantly conjured only to appear as its own fading afterlife, discernible in empty signs of death and loss. The culmination of these motifs comes in "English Summer," as the narrator is watched by "large, hollow eyes in which a world was already dead" while he crosses London's Russell Square.<a href="http://post45.research.yale.edu/feed/#footnote_8_2611" id="identifier_7_2611" class="footnote-link footnote-identifier-link" title="Raymond Chandler, &ldquo;English Summer: A Gothic Romance,&rdquo; in &lt;em&gt;The Notebooks of Raymond Chandler and English Summer: A Gothic Romance&lt;/em&gt;, ed. Frank MacShane (London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1977), p. 110. Subsequent citations are from this edition and will be given parenthetically in the text.">8</a> The campy Gothicism of this posthumously-published story has never been taken seriously by literary scholars.<em> </em> However, it is precisely its generic and stylistic excesses which will help us to understand how Chandler's transatlantic orientation structured his hardboiled fiction. In a 1949 letter he responded to a discussion of his work in <em>Partisan Review </em>by complaining of how, unlike the English, his American readers did not "see the strong element of burlesque in my kind of writing." He added, "there is a strong element of fantasy in the mystery story; there is in any kind of writing that moves within an accepted formula. The mystery writer's material is melodrama&#8230;" (<em>SL</em> 150). Melodrama, I will argue, was the means by which Chandler expressed his transatlantic hauntings and mourned the death of his English ideals.</p><div class='dashed-hr'></div><table class="footnotes"><tr id="footnote_1_2611" class="footnote"><td class='number'>1.</td><td class='citation'><span class='note'>Ian Baucom, <em>Englishness, Empire and the Locations of Identity</em> (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1999), p. 175.</span></td></tr><tr id="footnote_2_2611" class="footnote"><td class='number'>2.</td><td class='citation'><span class='note'>Raymond Chandler, <em>Selected Letters of Raymond Chandler</em>, ed. Frank MacShane (London: Jonathan Cape, 1995), p. 15. Henceforth abbreviated as <em>SL</em>. Subsequent citations are from this edition and will be given parenthetically in the text.</span></td></tr><tr id="footnote_3_2611" class="footnote"><td class='number'>3.</td><td class='citation'><span class='note'>"England," <em>Life Magazine</em>, June 3, 1940, p. 78.</span></td></tr><tr id="footnote_4_2611" class="footnote"><td class='number'>4.</td><td class='citation'><span class='note'>Old school ties are of a different design to school ties, and are entitled to be worn only by former pupils after leaving their public school.</span></td></tr><tr id="footnote_5_2611" class="footnote"><td class='number'>5.</td><td class='citation'><span class='note'>Raymond Chandler, <em>The Long Goodbye</em>, in <em>Later Novels and Other Writings</em>, ed. Frank MacShane (New York: Library of America, 1995), p. 667. Subsequent citations are from this edition and will be given parenthetically in the text.</span></td></tr><tr id="footnote_6_2611" class="footnote"><td class='number'>6.</td><td class='citation'><span class='note'>Franco Moretti, <em>Signs Taken for Wonders: Essays on the Sociology of Literary Forms</em>, trans. D. Miller, David Forgacs and S. Fischer (London: Verso, 2005), p. 137.</span></td></tr><tr id="footnote_7_2611" class="footnote"><td class='number'>7.</td><td class='citation'><span class='note'>Recent examples of native genealogies for hardboiled fiction include Leonard Casutto, <em>Hardboiled Sentimentality: The Secret History of American Crime Stories</em> (New York: Columbia University Press, 2009), p. 4; Andrew Pepper, "The Hardboiled Genre," in <em>A Companion to Crime Fiction</em>, ed. Charles Rzepka and Lee Horsley (Chichester, UK: Wiley-Blackwell, 2010), p. 140.</span></td></tr><tr id="footnote_8_2611" class="footnote"><td class='number'>8.</td><td class='citation'><span class='note'>Raymond Chandler, "English Summer: A Gothic Romance," in <em>The Notebooks of Raymond Chandler and English Summer: A Gothic Romance</em>, ed. Frank MacShane (London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1977), p. 110. Subsequent citations are from this edition and will be given parenthetically in the text.</span></td></tr></table>]]></content:encoded>
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