Chasing rabbits

Okay, I am admitting in full disclosure that I am chasing rabbits today.  (Literally squirrels in my backyard - saving them from my fierce Shih Tzus - but rabbits in theory!)  As I read the selection for today, I immediately began connecting with the common man, the average farmer who for the first time saw an opportunity for social improvement.  I have no focus for this post other than highlighting the various points in Brown's chapter that made me stop and reflect on the empowerment the print provided:

1)  The Appalachian region:  For the first time this semester - or the first time that it caught my attention - a writer mentioned the Appalachian region.  Yes, we've had some coverage of the South (minimal, Carrie, I know!), but the Appalachian region has gone fairly unexplored.  There is rich history in this area, and though the region may be more known for its backwoods/moonshine/anything-else-derogatory, Brown makes the point that "printers and booksellers became familiar figures" the Appalachian periphery (60).  Of course, we only get one sentence, but I appreciate the mention.  Especially as it leaves the implication that people in this region were become literate and self-educating, as printers and booksellers could only be "familiar figures" if people were seeking their products.  I remember reading something about print culture in The Journal of Appalachian Studies, however, I cannot find the article for the life of me today.  Of course I wouldn't be able to find it when I needed it!

2)  In conjunction with my fondness for the Appalachian region, I have a soft spot in my heart for the common man, especially the rural farmer/rancher, and it doesn't take a Freudian analysis to figure out why I am so interested in this (I grew up on a ranch).  As Brown briefly explored Paine's Common Sense, I took note of the rhetoric Brown used to describe Paine's discourse: "blunt message," "blunt language," "familiar vocabulary," "homespun illustrations," and "vernacular language" (65).  In taken in isolation, this rhetorical analysis may sound derogatory; however, Brown makes it clear that Paine was quite effective in his writing, as it was this type of rhetoric that reached such a broad audience, especially those (like the commoner) outside of traditional, genteel readership.  Common Sense "dwarfed the sales of 'Farmer's Letters'" - a publication written in the "persona of a 'farmer,'" yet clearly composed by a gentleman - primarily due to its ability to relate to the average reader (65).  It has been years since I have read Common Sense, but I am now encouraged to read it once again.  And, I am going to locate (if possible) and read "Farmer's Letters" in order to have a better understanding of John Dickinson's writing.  I haven't hear of him/his work before, so I am now specifically focused on comparing the two texts, since Brown clearly juxtaposed them in the same paragraph.

3)  Along with Dickinson, I highlighted a variety of individuals that I found interesting in Brown's chapter and that I want to research:

• Elijah Lovejoy 
• Mercy Otis Warren
• Lemuel Haynes
• William Manning
• Mr. and Mrs. Calvin Fletcher

Brown mentions these five individuals briefly in his chapter, and they all have some connection to early literacy and/or print.  Going along with my "everyman" theme today, I really want to know more about their lives and roles in the early Republic, and I will have to follow-up with a full report on my findings in due time.

All in all, I enjoyed the reading for today. It certainly left me wanting to know more/research more/understand more.  I suppose that is a sign of a productive chapter!

10/18 Response

As I made my way through A History of the Book in America Vol 2, I realized that this introduction highlights many of the same aspects of the early republic and print culture that we read about in Starr and Davidson.  Following along the same general path as our previous writers, Robert Gross seeks to explore the rise of print culture in America, and as is typical in an introduction, Gross highlights the basic foundation of print culture and briefly stated the three main areas of focus for this rather long volume: economic growth and capitalism, democracy and the public sphere, and nationalism and national identity.  Perhaps I am becoming versed in this subject matter, as much of the introduction made reference to similar material that we've read in previous weeks; however, due to the almost 700 pages of text and notes, I can assume that we are on the path to discovering the material in even more depth than before!

Out of all of the material in Gross's introduction, I found myself pondering the role of the face-to-face book selling technique that was prevalent in the early nineteenth century.  According to Gross, the vast territory in the early republic provided for quite a logistical problem in terms of selling books to the general population and the answer was book agents who made rounds selling orders to the local families in rural areas.  Gross suggests that locals worried that either they would pay and not get their book(s) or that they would not be able to rid themselves of the book seller.  The later immediately made me think of Mr. Haney on Green Acres, who was always peddling something to Oliver Wendell Douglas, and it usually involved some level of trickery, similar to the fictional story that Gross provides with the book agent and the minister.  In this light, the book agent (or all face-to-face salesmen in the example of Green Acres) seems to be destined to be dishonest.

Mr. Haney, Green Acres 

However, Gross also makes the point that book selling in the peddler fashion was hard work and often unrewarded, quoting a salesman as stating, "To bring books among such rabble is like throwing Pearls before Swine" (26).  Wow!  In contrast to the previous view of the dishonest salesman, this book seller seems to have little faith in the book buyer.  Again, this idea of the face-to-face is interesting to me.  Why is it that a face-to-face transaction could have so much doubt and frustration from both sides?  I began to think about my own buying experience with face-to-face salesman.  Gone are the days when people go door to door selling books, but it is not beyond my memory. Apparently, I am on a TV show reference roll, as I remember the episode of Friends when Joey buys one book of an encyclopedia series.  He is so proud of his purchase, even though the fifty dollars is an extreme amount of money for his financially strapped situation.

Perhaps this clip explores both perspectives: the book seller needing to make a sale and the book buyer being put in a position to make a purchase.  Of course, this is far from identical to the book selling situation of the early republic, but it relates directly to the buying and selling of books using a face-to-face method.  I realize that we often, especially in our technologically friendly environment, avoid the face-to-face transaction when we buy our own books.  The days of door-to-door book sellers may be behind us, as this Friends clip dates itself, and we often - or at least I will owe up to this - initially doubt door-to-door salesmen of any kind; however, how many of us even go into a bookstore to purchase our books now?  I, for one, buy everything on Amazon, where I manage my book lists and orders with a click of the button.  Even Gross mentions the change in book buying when books could "be sold through the mail" beginning in 1851 (25).  There seems to be a theme in the idea that buying books from a distant subject, via mail in mid-nineteenth century or online today, is less problematic for both parties than physically purchasing from an individual.  Just something to consider when we think about how similar/different we actually are from book buyers of past generations.

On a side note, I am tempted here to also include a clip from You've Got Mail that highlights the role of the small bookstore; however, that would transition even more off-topic that this blog already is!

10/4 Response

Throughout my reading of Chapters Three and Four this week, I found myself constantly making connections between the past and the present readers.  Perhaps I am under the constant influence of my current theory professor – thanks, Neil! – but I am now more than ever acutely aware of the ideological forces behind what readers read and how certain books are perceived in culture.  Why was the novel a disputed literary form during the early republic?  Could it, perhaps, have some correlation to an overwhelming ideological force (or forces) present during this era?

Using Habermas’ theory that “ideology is always implicitly or explicitly reactionary, a counterstance to some other force within a culture,” Davidson brings up the point that “the pervasive censure of fiction eloquently attests to the force that fiction itself was perceived to have as an ideology (or agent of ideology).  Had the novel not been deemed a potent proponent of certain threatening changes, there would have been little reason to attack it” (103).  Ah ha!  The answer to my question.  But, was it that simple?  For modern readers, it might be easy to quickly bypass or over simplify the ideological forces that threatened the rise of the novel.  Yes, it would be fairly simple to blame this on the institution of religion (I have most certainly heard this before); however, this attack was not solely founded on religious principles to keep the people under the authority of the local clergyman.  While I will admit that it was a certainly a factor, I think there is a vital point to be made that it is not the only factor, though an easy scapegoat to many whom disregard the larger social context.

Davidson makes the claim that novels were contested on many grounds:
• The equation with “novel reading today, licentious riot and senseless revolution tomorrow” (104)
• “Denouncing the novel […] was ancillary to or coextensive with or even integral to the civic, religious, or educational duties of right-minded men” (104).
• “The novel threaded not just to coexist with elite literature but to replace it, and its critics knew full well that changes in the primary reading of an increasingly greater number of people presaged far more than a faddish redeployment of leisure time” (105).
• “Might not the American novel by addressing those unprivileged in the emerging society persuade them that they had a voice in that society and thus serve as the literary equivalent of a Daniel Shays by leading its followers to riot and ruin?” (105)

I could keep quoting, as Davidson thoroughly makes and supports her claims that the novel was attacked by civic and religious leaders in an attempt to maintain hegemony over the common man, but I think the point is clear.  In essence, “theirs [the elite minority in Davidson’s terms] was a fight for survival” (105).  Novels might prompt licentious behavior, or even worse, subvert the accepted duties of “right-minded” – controlled, in other words – men.  This was a challenging time for the novel, and those in power resisted this medium that would potentially reach the average, the common, and the every day man and create “a concomitant questioning of political, ministerial, legal, and even medical authorities” (109).  Ideologically, the novel had the potential to challenge almost every part of accepted society, a troubling thought for those in power.

As I began to study on this, I realized that whether we want to admit it or not, we – I am speaking broadly here, friends – have a very similar situation with our views of current literature.  This past week was the Banned Books Week, drawing attention to the fact that books are currently being contested and that there is a fight to make this censorship public.  How is this any different from the contest against Davidson’s explanation of the early contest against the novel?  Could it be that there are also ideological forces now in a constant struggle to “protect children” from the pages of certain books?  It is fairly easy to look back at the past and to take lightly the early attack on the novel; it is a bit more difficult to realize and conceptualize our current similarities to the past.

I will leave you with background information taken directly from the American Library Association website:

Background Information from 2001 to 2010
Over the past ten years, American libraries were faced with 4,660 challenges.

• 1,536 challenges due to “sexually explicit” material;
• 1,231 challenges due to “offensive language”;
• 977 challenges due to material deemed “unsuited to age group”;
• 553 challenges due to “violence”
• 370 challenges due to “homosexuality”; and

Further, 121 materials were challenged because they were “anti-family,” and an additional 304 were challenged because of their “religious viewpoints.”

1,720 of these challenges (approximately 37%) were in classrooms; 30% (or1, 432) were in school libraries; 24% (or 1,119) took place in public libraries.  There were 32 challenges to college classes; and 106 to academic libraries.  There are isolated cases of challenges to materials made available in or by prisons, special libraries, community groups, and student groups.  The majority of challenges were initiated by parents (almost exactly 48%), while patrons and administrators followed behind (10% each).