Your intrepid correspondent is back on the rails, right now between trips. After spending a few wonderful days in Everyone's Favorite City, San Francisco, I boarded the bus in front of the Ferry Terminal at the foot of Market St. that carried me over the Bay Bridge to Emeryville, from whence Amtrak runs all its trains in the Bay Area. A dozen delicious West Coast oysters from the Hog Island Oyster Co. in the Ferry Terminal--overpriced, yes, but excellent all the same (as well they should be)--armed me for the trip.
Amtrak's Coast Starlight, which started at Union Station, Los Angeles, arrived right on time and I found my roomette and hunkered down for the first part of the trip, up to Sacramento and thence north on an inland route through Chico and Redding, awakening in extreme northern California in the mountains near Mt. Shasta, noticing we were an hour behind as the train moved slowly around the curvy mountain ledges.
Beautiful scenery of course and it got even better when we crossed into Oregon, in and out of 22 tunnels through the mountains and then racing past lush green valleys. The Coast Starlight represents in one small way an improvement over rail service in these parts in the pre-Amtrak days. Then if you arrived from southern California, you had to change in Oakland to one of three carriers headed north. Now you can take the one train that makes the trip the whole way.
Amtrak has tried to make the Coast Starlight somewhat special by including in the consist the Pacific Parlour Car, an old example of Santa Fe rolling stock that was built in 1955. It features nice plush armchairs and a small restaurant section with an alternative menu to the dining car next door. It also has the extra windows up top like the lounge car on the other side of the diner and a bar upstairs and downstairs.
The staff, as with all Amtrak folks whom I've encountered out west, is pleasant and friendly, if a bit California-style laid back. The diner doesn't quite open at the scheduled time. No matter. The announcements made it seem that you'd be lucky if they squeezed you in (although sleeping-car passengers get priority) but then you would find empty tables, unlike my experience on the Cardinal or the Southwest Chief. Of course, I was riding in the middle of Memorial Day weekend. And I shouldn't forget to mention that the lamb shank served for dinner in the parlour car was absolutely superb!
They made up the delay by the time we rolled into Portland at about quarter past three in the afternoon. An hour stop--not quite enough for a dash over to Powell's bookstore. Then on across the mighty Columbia, untamed by the eleven dams, and into Washington State, where we met the not entirely unexpected rain. King Street Station in Seattle, where the Starlight terminates, is beautifully renovated, but despite the bright white-painted plaster, the marble, and the floor mosaics and brasswork, the station has no services beyond a ticket office, rest rooms, and vending machines.
By this time the train had taken advantage of all of the slack Amtrak builds into the schedules, andwe arrived there a good 55 minutes ahead of schedule, which left me an hour and a half to wait for the connecting bus to Vancouver. Amtrak runs trains to Vancouver but not one that connects with the Starlight--who knows why not? The bus was efficient, and not even disturbing to my system as they sometimes are, but we lost some time at the border because two passengers had issues.
Anyway, we arrived close to schedule quite late at night at the Pacific Central Station in Vancouver, where fortunately many taxis were in readiness for our dozen or so riders. I will return there tomorrow to board the Canadian (ViaRail train number 2) for the trip across Canada to Toronto. In the meantime, today was spent with friends walking through Vancouver's bustling downtown and back by city bus to the marvelous Museum of Anthropology on the University of British Columbia campus. The signs refer to it as MOA which I guess beats DOA.
It has what must be the finest collection of totem poles and many other artifacts from the First Nations, as Canada refers to its earliest inhabitants, and almost everywhere else. Here is where I got to see pictures and objects from the Kwakiutl potlatches I studied about in the course I took at Cornell that somehow included some classic anthro studies by Ruth Benedict.
Monday, May 26, 2014
Wednesday, May 7, 2014
Explaining Alger-2
So having explained who Alger was, what he wrote, his one plot, and a bit about the Horatio Alger Society, I'll now get into what continues to interest me about both Horatio Alger and the Horatio Alger Society.
Alger's career provides a window into the literary world of the second half of the 1800s. While at Harvard, studying divinity, he developed his interests in writing poetry, short stories, and ultimately, longer pieces. When he turned to writing novels for boys, there were many periodicals aimed at this audience. School & Schoolmate, Gleason's Youth Companion, and many others could be found on newsstands and more often, were delivered to homes through the mail. Adults enjoyed Frank Leslie's Illustrated Weekly, which remains a prime source for Civil War coverage, but which also published fiction.Recall the immense popularity of the Dickens novels which first appeared in serial instalments in publications such as these.
While Alger's moralizing in his novels is both characteristic of "uplifting" literature for children of those times, his portrayal of the New York of the late 1800s is fascinating. In creating the character of Ragged Dick, he included more personality in terms of humor as well as the manly virtues. One is made familiar with such major settings in old New York as Barnum's Museum, the Astor House, and the theaters. Alger, of course, takes a dim view of youth who waste their free time at such haunts as Tony Pastor's theatre when they might be home improving their minds.
The Alger Society not only has a membership who are well versed in the particulars of Alger novels. One member has published a series of collecting studies on different publishers, there are several bibliographies that are especially useful in identifying first editions, In recent years, many members are more interested in 1850-1950 boys' series generally or in particular authors or series, and often now, not so much in Alger.
This is part of a movement to study popular culture that formed the Popular Culture Association, which presents annual conferences attended by many HAS members. One outstanding analysis of the history of the period reflected through writers like Alger was produced by member and Swarthmore political science professor Carol Nackenoff, The Fictional Republic.
As with any popular American institution--and Alger was the best-selling author of his time--all sorts of episodes arise over the years about the subject. Herbert Mayes, who became a well-known magazine editor who revived McCall's in the 1960s, published a satirical biography about Alger that was intended to mock the trend in the 1920s of publishing "debunking" biographies. The biography was accepted as true for years until Mayes years later conceded that it had been intended as a joke and was fraudulent.
Alger clearly regretted his behavior when a minister and wrote at least one poem later that expresses his hope that his later works would make up for his offenses. Rather than condemn him, one is more inclined to consider our more recent tendency to give offenders a second chance. In Alger's case, he provided for millions both entertainment and some heavy-handed "moral uplift" that may grate on our sensibilities but was characteristic of his times.
Since I do possess at least some of the collecting bug that has lurked in my family--my grandfather not only wrote several Lincoln books but blew much of a fortune collecting Lincolniana and one great-uncle not only was a major stamp collector but had Pony Express covers, I recognize my Alger connection as a less costly (I won't spend all that much for any book and these days, the prices have fallen anyway, even for firsts) way to enjoy history and literature of a period in America that continues to hold much interest.
The society has often invited academic lecturers who speak about writers of Alger's time as well as him. A few years ago, one discussed a contemporary, Louisa May Alcott, who possesses and deserves a higher literary reputation. Nevertheless, I recalled that in her books beyond Little Women, past which many readers rarely venture, she indulged in many of the character cliches of which Alger is guilty. In Jo's Boys, for example, there are the stereotypes of boys--good, bad, indifferent--and they are not much more personalized than some of Alger's.
Even if Alger is only remembered today in a phrase seen in obits, he helped create an ethos in American life that persists, whether or not it has become even harder for someone without means to make it to the top through hard work and moral behavior. So maybe it's not true today and might not have been very true then? It had and continues to have a powerful influence on American culture and politics, for better or worse.
Alger's career provides a window into the literary world of the second half of the 1800s. While at Harvard, studying divinity, he developed his interests in writing poetry, short stories, and ultimately, longer pieces. When he turned to writing novels for boys, there were many periodicals aimed at this audience. School & Schoolmate, Gleason's Youth Companion, and many others could be found on newsstands and more often, were delivered to homes through the mail. Adults enjoyed Frank Leslie's Illustrated Weekly, which remains a prime source for Civil War coverage, but which also published fiction.Recall the immense popularity of the Dickens novels which first appeared in serial instalments in publications such as these.
While Alger's moralizing in his novels is both characteristic of "uplifting" literature for children of those times, his portrayal of the New York of the late 1800s is fascinating. In creating the character of Ragged Dick, he included more personality in terms of humor as well as the manly virtues. One is made familiar with such major settings in old New York as Barnum's Museum, the Astor House, and the theaters. Alger, of course, takes a dim view of youth who waste their free time at such haunts as Tony Pastor's theatre when they might be home improving their minds.
The Alger Society not only has a membership who are well versed in the particulars of Alger novels. One member has published a series of collecting studies on different publishers, there are several bibliographies that are especially useful in identifying first editions, In recent years, many members are more interested in 1850-1950 boys' series generally or in particular authors or series, and often now, not so much in Alger.
This is part of a movement to study popular culture that formed the Popular Culture Association, which presents annual conferences attended by many HAS members. One outstanding analysis of the history of the period reflected through writers like Alger was produced by member and Swarthmore political science professor Carol Nackenoff, The Fictional Republic.
As with any popular American institution--and Alger was the best-selling author of his time--all sorts of episodes arise over the years about the subject. Herbert Mayes, who became a well-known magazine editor who revived McCall's in the 1960s, published a satirical biography about Alger that was intended to mock the trend in the 1920s of publishing "debunking" biographies. The biography was accepted as true for years until Mayes years later conceded that it had been intended as a joke and was fraudulent.
Alger clearly regretted his behavior when a minister and wrote at least one poem later that expresses his hope that his later works would make up for his offenses. Rather than condemn him, one is more inclined to consider our more recent tendency to give offenders a second chance. In Alger's case, he provided for millions both entertainment and some heavy-handed "moral uplift" that may grate on our sensibilities but was characteristic of his times.
Since I do possess at least some of the collecting bug that has lurked in my family--my grandfather not only wrote several Lincoln books but blew much of a fortune collecting Lincolniana and one great-uncle not only was a major stamp collector but had Pony Express covers, I recognize my Alger connection as a less costly (I won't spend all that much for any book and these days, the prices have fallen anyway, even for firsts) way to enjoy history and literature of a period in America that continues to hold much interest.
The society has often invited academic lecturers who speak about writers of Alger's time as well as him. A few years ago, one discussed a contemporary, Louisa May Alcott, who possesses and deserves a higher literary reputation. Nevertheless, I recalled that in her books beyond Little Women, past which many readers rarely venture, she indulged in many of the character cliches of which Alger is guilty. In Jo's Boys, for example, there are the stereotypes of boys--good, bad, indifferent--and they are not much more personalized than some of Alger's.
Even if Alger is only remembered today in a phrase seen in obits, he helped create an ethos in American life that persists, whether or not it has become even harder for someone without means to make it to the top through hard work and moral behavior. So maybe it's not true today and might not have been very true then? It had and continues to have a powerful influence on American culture and politics, for better or worse.
Tuesday, May 6, 2014
Explaining Alger
Why do I attend the annual convention of the Horatio Alger Society? And why did I agree to host the confab this year, a challenge that only wrapped this past weekend when the convention ran successfully under my stewardship in Annapolis? Finally, why did I agree to accept being vice president for the next two years?
You might first ask who was Horatio Alger and why am I even interested in him and his work. He is recalled today only, based on his approximately 120 novels for boys (with two heroines) that extolled the work-hard, become-successful theme, when someone dies who rose from nowhere and his life is described as a "Horatio Alger rags-to-riches story."
He was born in 1832 in Massachusetts and like all well-bred New Englanders then, attended Harvard, from which he graduated in 1852, in divinity. We forget that Harvard began as a divinity school for Puritans. He was clearly a college litterateur, writing stories, poems, and serving as class day speaker. His career in the cloth crumbled when he was accused of molesting two boys and blew town, leaving his minister father to clean up the mess by promising that Horatio Jr. would never fill a pulpit again.
And he never did. He repaired to New York City and began to pen tales of the children of the street, who made their spare livings as bootblacks, runners for financial houses, and other bottom-rank work. He developed a snappy style that appealed to younger readers of the second half of the 19th century. His third book, Ragged Dick, was set in the New York of the 1870s--sort of the flip side of Edith Wharton's The Age of Innocence. His lead character was engaging, nervy, brave, and sometimes even funny.
This book was the one that broke open the market. Parents, aunts and uncles gave Alger books to sons, nephews, and grandchildren. Alger took lodgings at the Newsboys' Lodging House, advising the superintendent and learning about life on the streets from the boys who resided there. He took trips out west and several novels followed. This was a one-plot writer: boy on farm faces family disaster when local squire is about to foreclose on farm, so he seeks fame and fortune, encounters nasties in big city, works hard, avoids smoking and drinking, performs act of bravery, is befriended by rich man, and achieves fame, fortune, and girl, sometimes rich man's daughter, and not necessarily in that order.
It all comes together, spurred always by coincidences, because our man was not too strong on creative plotting. He must have figured that one would do. By the time he died in 1899, he had sold millions, but unlike his heroes, he had given much away and died relatively without much in the way of assets. His assistant, Edward Stratemeyer, finished about ten unfinished novels, and then started a syndicate, eventually hiring writers to create Tom Swift, the Hardy Boys, the Bobbsey Twins, Nancy Drew, and many more. The Syndicate is still in business.
Someone gave me an Alger book when I was in junior high. My excellent English teacher told me to lose it. Librarians had banished these young-adult (as they would now be known) volumes at the turn of the century because they lacked the gravitas of the classics. The image stayed that way, as attested to by my English teacher.
I liked the style and found the plots and the classic values of modesty, sobriety, and the rest of the Scout law amusing. I started picking up Alger books in second-hand book stores and antique stores. When I started to travel, often all around the Northeast and later the U.S., I would seek them out. I bought them by mail as a teenager from the fabled Leary's Book Store in Philadelphia. Before long I had a collection. I almost entered it in a book-collecting contest when I was at Cornell. I bet the librarians there would have given me the heave-ho.
A friend who read antiquarian publications saw a notice for the Horatio Alger Society and knowing of my collection, suggested that this might be something I'd find of interest. I joined up but only attended every three or four years because I travelled often and usually was unable to make the May conventions. They were attended mostly by collectors and book dealers and some who found Alger interesting. The folks who worshipped his values gradually disappeared over the years. Some university librarians and professors joined and I found their company stimulating.
The society tended to meet outside beltways of third-level cities and looked for motel rooms for under $50. You could get the books you needed at the annual auction and book sale. Much that was auctioned was sold that night in private sale and more went on sale the next day at the book sale.
Gradually the society began to have speakers on both aspects of Alger and other series books for boys. The other authors of that genre were William T. Adams, writing as Oliver Optic, Harry Castlemon, and Edward S. Ellis. G.A. Henty captured the spirit of the British Empire in With Wolfe at Quebec, or With Clive at Plassey, etc.
--to be continued--
You might first ask who was Horatio Alger and why am I even interested in him and his work. He is recalled today only, based on his approximately 120 novels for boys (with two heroines) that extolled the work-hard, become-successful theme, when someone dies who rose from nowhere and his life is described as a "Horatio Alger rags-to-riches story."
He was born in 1832 in Massachusetts and like all well-bred New Englanders then, attended Harvard, from which he graduated in 1852, in divinity. We forget that Harvard began as a divinity school for Puritans. He was clearly a college litterateur, writing stories, poems, and serving as class day speaker. His career in the cloth crumbled when he was accused of molesting two boys and blew town, leaving his minister father to clean up the mess by promising that Horatio Jr. would never fill a pulpit again.
And he never did. He repaired to New York City and began to pen tales of the children of the street, who made their spare livings as bootblacks, runners for financial houses, and other bottom-rank work. He developed a snappy style that appealed to younger readers of the second half of the 19th century. His third book, Ragged Dick, was set in the New York of the 1870s--sort of the flip side of Edith Wharton's The Age of Innocence. His lead character was engaging, nervy, brave, and sometimes even funny.
This book was the one that broke open the market. Parents, aunts and uncles gave Alger books to sons, nephews, and grandchildren. Alger took lodgings at the Newsboys' Lodging House, advising the superintendent and learning about life on the streets from the boys who resided there. He took trips out west and several novels followed. This was a one-plot writer: boy on farm faces family disaster when local squire is about to foreclose on farm, so he seeks fame and fortune, encounters nasties in big city, works hard, avoids smoking and drinking, performs act of bravery, is befriended by rich man, and achieves fame, fortune, and girl, sometimes rich man's daughter, and not necessarily in that order.
It all comes together, spurred always by coincidences, because our man was not too strong on creative plotting. He must have figured that one would do. By the time he died in 1899, he had sold millions, but unlike his heroes, he had given much away and died relatively without much in the way of assets. His assistant, Edward Stratemeyer, finished about ten unfinished novels, and then started a syndicate, eventually hiring writers to create Tom Swift, the Hardy Boys, the Bobbsey Twins, Nancy Drew, and many more. The Syndicate is still in business.
Someone gave me an Alger book when I was in junior high. My excellent English teacher told me to lose it. Librarians had banished these young-adult (as they would now be known) volumes at the turn of the century because they lacked the gravitas of the classics. The image stayed that way, as attested to by my English teacher.
I liked the style and found the plots and the classic values of modesty, sobriety, and the rest of the Scout law amusing. I started picking up Alger books in second-hand book stores and antique stores. When I started to travel, often all around the Northeast and later the U.S., I would seek them out. I bought them by mail as a teenager from the fabled Leary's Book Store in Philadelphia. Before long I had a collection. I almost entered it in a book-collecting contest when I was at Cornell. I bet the librarians there would have given me the heave-ho.
A friend who read antiquarian publications saw a notice for the Horatio Alger Society and knowing of my collection, suggested that this might be something I'd find of interest. I joined up but only attended every three or four years because I travelled often and usually was unable to make the May conventions. They were attended mostly by collectors and book dealers and some who found Alger interesting. The folks who worshipped his values gradually disappeared over the years. Some university librarians and professors joined and I found their company stimulating.
The society tended to meet outside beltways of third-level cities and looked for motel rooms for under $50. You could get the books you needed at the annual auction and book sale. Much that was auctioned was sold that night in private sale and more went on sale the next day at the book sale.
Gradually the society began to have speakers on both aspects of Alger and other series books for boys. The other authors of that genre were William T. Adams, writing as Oliver Optic, Harry Castlemon, and Edward S. Ellis. G.A. Henty captured the spirit of the British Empire in With Wolfe at Quebec, or With Clive at Plassey, etc.
--to be continued--
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