Cold War Bohemia: Literary Exchange Between the United States and Czechoslovakia, 1947-1989
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Cold War Bohemia: Literary Exchange between the United States and Czechoslovakia, 1947-1989 The Harvard community has made this article openly available. Please share how this access benefits you. Your story matters Citation Goodman, Brian Kruzick. 2016. Cold War Bohemia: Literary Exchange between the United States and Czechoslovakia, 1947-1989. Doctoral dissertation, Harvard University, Graduate School of Arts & Sciences. Citable link http://nrs.harvard.edu/urn-3:HUL.InstRepos:33493571 Terms of Use This article was downloaded from Harvard University’s DASH repository, and is made available under the terms and conditions applicable to Other Posted Material, as set forth at http:// nrs.harvard.edu/urn-3:HUL.InstRepos:dash.current.terms-of- use#LAA Cold War Bohemia: Literary Exchange between the United States and Czechoslovakia, 1947-1989 A dissertation presented by Brian Kruzick Goodman to The Committee on Degrees in the History of American Civilization in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy in the subject of the History of American Civilization Harvard University Cambridge, Massachusetts April 2016 © 2016 Brian Kruzick Goodman All rights reserved. Dissertation Advisor: Louis Menand Brian Kruzick Goodman Cold War Bohemia: Literary Exchange between the United States and Czechoslovakia, 1947-1989 Abstract After the onset of the Cold War, literature and culture continued to circulate across the so-called Iron Curtain between the United States and the countries of the Eastern bloc, often with surprising consequences. This dissertation presents a narrative history of literary exchange between the US and Czechoslovakia between 1947 and 1989. I provide an account of the material circulation of texts and discourses that is grounded in the biographical experiences of specific writers and intellectuals who served as key intermediaries between Cold War blocs. Individual chapters focus on F. O. Matthiessen, Josef !kvoreck", Allen Ginsberg, and Philip Roth, and I discuss the transmission of literary works by writers like Franz Kafka, Ernest Hemingway, Langston Hughes, Ludvík Vaculík, and Milan Kundera. I also discuss a range of institutions—from literary magazines and book series to universities and government censors—that mediated the circulation of literature between the US and Czechoslovakia. To reconstruct this history, I draw on a multilingual archive of sources that includes transnational correspondence, secret police files, travelogues, and samizdat texts. A central argument of “Cold War Bohemia” is that the transnational circulation of literature produced new lines of countercultural influence across the Iron Curtain. By the 1970s and 1980s, literary exchange also helped constitute a network of writers and intellectuals who promoted new discourses about the relationship between literature, iii dissent, and human rights. The literary counterculture that emerged between the US and Czechoslovakia during this period took on many local and contingent forms, but in each case, the circulation of literature allowed a new transnational public to imagine an alternative world beyond Cold War boundaries. iv Table of Contents Acknowledgements vi Introduction: American Bohemia 1 Chapter 1. Behind the Gold Curtain: F. O. Matthiessen and the Czechoslovak Coup 21 Chapter 2. Heroes and Cowards: Josef !kvoreck"’s American Epigraphs 71 Chapter 3: The Kingdom of May: Allen Ginsberg and the Prague Counterculture 118 Chapter 4: The Tourist: Philip Roth, Counter-Realism, and the Other Europe 160 Conclusion: The Jazz Section 205 Bibliography 226 v Acknowledgements This project was researched and written in many locations, and in each of these temporary homes I was lucky enough to draw on a wide community of support and guidance. My dissertation advisor Louis Menand always saw my project more clearly than I did and encouraged me to write with lucidity and force. At the same time, he trusted me to “follow my gut” and pursue my idiosyncratic research interests wherever they led. My other committee members were just as indispensable. Jonathan Bolton’s scholarly ethic (defined by intelligence, rigor, and generosity) will provide me with a model to emulate for years to come. Through our wide-ranging conversations, John Stauffer introduced me to a utopian conception of American studies that is roomy enough to provide a home for this dissertation. Many others shaped my experience at Harvard. It all begins with Arthur Patton- Hock, whose office door in the Barker Center was always open, especially when there was a good story to tell. Soon after I arrived in Cambridge, Nancy Cott taught me how to think like a historian. In the classroom, Jill Lepore and Andy Jewett demonstrated to me the close relationship between teaching, research, and writing. Werner Sollors and Glenda Carpio showed me that scholarship, at its best, is also a social activity that should be pursued at the dinner table as well as the library. Nora Hampl and Veronika Tuckerova helped me gain a foothold in the slippery world of the Czech language, and Jessie Labov provided encouragement, advice, and even a taste of Hungarian cuisine. My outside reader Wai Chee Dimock helped me to realize that this project might have a community of readers beyond a small group of friends and colleagues at Harvard. vi Even before I set foot in the Barker Center, I was fortunate enough to work with a series of advisors and mentors who still shape my approach to scholarship and writing. At Stanford, Shelley Fisher Fishkin took me under her wing and showed me that my eclectic interests had a name: transnational American studies. Along the way, my work was also enriched by the humor and intelligence of Gavin Jones, Adam Johnson, Hilton Obenzinger, and the late Jay Fliegelman. A year at Oxford working with Paul Giles and Hermione Lee vastly expanded my conception of American literature’s place in the world. It was also during these early years that I first traveled to Prague (with no knowledge of how frequently I would return). The idea for this project emerged out of conversations during that first trip with Jan Urban, Karel Srp, Tomá! Vrba, Josef Rauvolf, and Josef Ja"ab. I was also welcomed by a poet and scholar named Justin Quinn, whose hospitality and intellectual generosity have continued up to the present. The next Ún!tické pivo is on me. This project has also benefited from a great deal of institutional support. At Harvard, my research was fostered by the Davis Center for Russian and Eurasian Studies and the Weatherhead Center for International Affairs, and my research in the Czech Republic was funded through a FLAS grant and a Frederick Sheldon Traveling Fellowship. I was able to spend a summer exploring archives in Washington, DC thanks to a fellowship provided by the German Historical Institute. I would also like to thank the librarians and archivists at all of the major sites of my research: the Library of Congress, the Beinecke Library at Yale University, both the Hoover Institution Archives and Special Collections at Stanford University, the Fisher Library at the University of Toronto, and the Archiv bezpe#nostních slo$ek in Prague. In the Czech Republic, I also vii benefited from conversations with scholars at the Ústav pro #eskou literaturu, particularly Petr %ámal and Michal P"ibá&. A version of Chapter 4 of this dissertation appeared in the journal American Literary History, and I would like to thank Gordon Hutner and the anonymous reviewers at ALH who provided valuable feedback at a key juncture in this project. A final set of institutions was indispensible to the writing of this dissertation. Here’s to the coffee shops that provided both sanctuary and stimulation, in particular Petsi Pies, Pod Lipami, Kavárna Liberál, Kaldi’s, and Compass Coffee. And then there are all the friends and colleagues with whom I shared those countless coffees (and stronger brews). The advice and example of a group of brilliant and creative scholars always showed me a way forward: George Blaustein (who introduced me to F. O. Matthiessen), Eli Cook, Maggie Doherty, Nick Donofrio, Holger Droessler, Dan Farbman, Katie Gerbner, Maggie Gram, Jack Hamilton, Brian Hochman, Michael Kimmage, Pete L’Official, Charles Petersen, Scott Poulson-Bryant, Kathryn Roberts, and Stephen Vider. Annie Wyman and Rebecca Kastleman were a constant reminder that there is a whole other life to be lived beyond the pages of a dissertation. My cohort (and our imaginary canine mascot Old Overholt) was with me every step of the way. Steven Brown, Theresa McCulla, Eva Payne, and Sandy Placido, whenever we get together (in person or virtually), I am blown away by your collective strength, creativity, humor, and passion. But, to Eva, I do have to admit my disappointment that we never started that import-export business specializing in Czech stationary and zmrzlina. We could have been rich. I owe a special thanks to the brothers Freedman (Jesse and Adam) who helped me to safely navigate the waters of graduate school, from start to finish. The cast of viii characters at 80 Kinnaird Street, especially Sasha Buscho, made me feel at home from the moment I arrived in Cambridge. Just down the street, a group of eccentric scientists (plus one humanist) now residing at 176/177 Hancock Street put me up whenever I had nowhere else to go and taught me much more about graphene than I could have ever imgained. Of course, there is a much larger group of friends across Cambridge, Somerville, Prague, Brno, Monrovia, Washington, DC, and beyond who made sure that I stayed (relatively) sane and even had some fun along the way. None of this would have been possible without my family. I’m fortunate enough to come from an unruly clan of aunts, uncles, and cousins that is simultaneously boisterous and easygoing, sarcastic and open-minded. My parents are the calm at the eye of the storm.