©2016 Elyse Vigiletti
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©2016 Elyse Vigiletti READING THE MIDDLE: US WOMEN NOVELISTS AND PRINT CULTURE, 1930-1960 BY ELYSE VIGILETTI DISSERTATION Submitted in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy in English in the Graduate College of the University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign, 2016 Urbana, Illinois Doctoral Committee: Professor Stephanie Foote, Chair and Director of Research Associate Professor Siobhan Somerville Professor Gordon Hutner Professor William (Ted) Underwood Professor Dale Bauer Abstract “Reading the Middle: US Women Novelists and Print Culture, 1930-1960 argues that the women writers of the mid-twentieth century middlebrow summoned carefully circumscribed deployments of critical paradigms such as feminism, antiracism, and anticapitalism to fulfill the American bourgeoisie’s need to elevate their leisure reading to an intellectually satisfying enterprise, with the implication that protest is a core value of the American bourgeoisie. Together, its five chapters demonstrate a new reading practice for the most widely read books of the mid-twentieth century—so many of which were written by women—that have lately fallen into obscurity. It proves that digital tools, which digital humanities scholars have been developing and refining for the past couple of decades, are ready for use as tools for scholars seeking to understand differently situated archives. Most importantly, it unpacks the paradoxes of a US conventionality that insists on subversion as one of its defining principles. A semi-ironic play on phrenological concepts popular in the nineteenth century, the term middlebrow emerged in early-twentieth-century essays that repudiated the hold the growing and increasingly literate population of middle-class consumers were thought to have on the book industry. Early- and mid-twentieth-century culture critics fretted that the consumer power of the middle class outpaced its taste, that bourgeois participation in the literary sphere diluted the quality of the artistic output in circulation. Unlike many recovery studies about middlebrow authors such as Edna Ferber, Fannie Hurst, Pearl Buck, and Lillian Smith, my project doesn’t attempt to recuperate some overlooked formal innovation in the more subversive elements of their works. Rather, it argues that the social-critical thrust of their novels stemmed from a mainstream midcentury US commitment to progressivism, and articulates the carefully prescribed conditions under which their feminist protest could thrive. The introduction, “Books of Permanent Importance,” discusses the decades between 1930 and 1960 as a particularly innovative era in publishing, following decades of post–civil war stagnation, in which industry leaders thought they could be committed to both art and money at the same time, true to the middle-class ideology that good work leads to financial rewards. It also establishes my contention that the middlebrow must be read in relation to its book-industry context and paratext, but that the text shouldn’t be left behind, as it allows us to consider what the patterns of the aggregate meant for the individual reading experience as demonstrated in chapter 2, “Edna Ferber and the Problems of the Middlebrow,” a version of which is forthcoming in article form in Studies in the Novel. Extremely popular for their humor, quick pace, and distinctly American settings, Ferber’s novels nevertheless ultimately critique American history and values, tackling settler- colonialism, racism, anti-Semitism, and capitalism through plot devices such as what I call the “dead patriarch trope.” Chapter 3, “Houses and Dead Patriarchs: Middlebrow Feminism and Its Race Problem” then elaborates on the patterns related to such motifs in a broader range of texts by other writers such as Fannie Hurst, Dorothy Canfield, and Jessie Redmon Fauset, using digital tools to analyze word and topic frequencies in contextual archival material to emphasize how such topics have subtly shaped by critical conversations about these works. A certain kind of feminism is a key feature, not a covert strategy, of middlebrow writing; middlebrow feminism, though invested in other types of social criticism, was legitimized by its class allegiances and its whiteness. This ii complicates the legacy of a black writer like Fauset, whose novels never achieved the popularity of those of Ferber but whose books nevertheless offer important insights into the concept of middlebrow as a mode, rather than merely a tier, of writing. Chapter 4, “‘They Aren’t the Whole World”: Locating the Middlebrow in Patricia Highsmith” shifts focuses to the postwar book industry, especially Patricia Highsmith, who is often categorized as a crime fiction writer—or a lesbian pulp novelist in the case of The Price of Salt—but whose status as a “hardcover” novelist brought her into the mainstream. Drawing on two of her interwar predecessors, crime writer Mary Roberts Rinehart and modernist Gertrude Stein, and situating her in the parallel rise of lesbian pulp fiction and print culture, I argue that what has been called Highsmith’s “antisociality” formed a resistant response to normality culture that was paradoxically the source of its appeal for general-interest readers. The coda, “Postwar Middlebrow Feminism and the ‘Subnormal’” likewise locates echoes of Highsmith’s “antisociality,” including the more grisly elements of her prose, and the threat of surveillance in the more traditionally middlebrow work of Lillian Smith, Ann Petry, and Mary McCarthy. Though these postwar writers espoused a riskier model of social criticism of social norms based on capitalism, white patriarchy, and heteronormativity, strengthening the force of their protest also complementarily strengthened the limitations of their feminism: both being normal and critiquing normality thus became the domain of the white woman of means. The book manuscript will expand on the digital humanities sections, further refining the “middle-distance” reading methodology. With time increase the sophistication of my coding skills and to build larger corpora within limitations imposed by copyright, I can add an additional chapter which focuses on larger trade publications, such as Publisher’s Weekly, as well as features of other major tastemaking periodicals such as “Books of the Times” in the New York Times and reviews and short stories feature in the New Yorker. Outside of “Reading the Middle,” my article “Normalizing the ‘Variant’ in The Ladder, America’s Second Lesbian Magazine” considers the close ties between the Daughters of Bilitis’s underground newsletter’s stated purpose of connecting a national lesbian community through print and lesbian taste- and culturemaking, focusing particularly on its more cautiously conservative early years. I look forward to a distant reading of the magazine’s full run as a potential future project. Other projects on the horizon include an article I’m currently developing on pedagogy—specifically, teaching noncanonical texts that don’t lend themselves to close reading to undergraduates in survey courses that often leave little room for in-depth investigation into print- historical context; an article on middlebrow feminism in other print forms such as the advice column; and another on contemporary men novelists’ antagonistic literary personae as a backlash to mid-twentieth-century middlebrow feminist protest. iii Acknowledgments It’s a privilege to formally acknowledge the many people who have helped me along these past six years, and I must start by profusely thanking Stephanie Foote. I have been so grateful to have the kind of advisor who was not only willing to read those terrible first drafts and listen to me think out loud, but also able to meet me wherever I was in my thought process and intuit just the feedback I needed to move forward. I can’t imagine a universe in which this dissertation gets written by me without her, but I would love to eventually live in a universe in which I am a fraction of the mentor, scholar, and writer that she is. Stephanie: thank you. Throughout this process, I leaned at different times on every member of my amazing committee: Dale Bauer, Siobhan Somerville, Gordon Hutner, and Ted Underwood. Thanks to Dale for introducing me to Edna Ferber and the notion of “working-class modernism,” which was the seed for my research agenda. Siobhan, I have learned more from you than I can itemize here—even the individual comments you’ve written in the margins of my drafts have made me a better reader and critical thinker. Professor Hutner, I owe much of my professional development through and beyond the dissertation to your support and guidance, and a good chunk of my personal library has been inspired by your encyclopedic knowledge of middle- class women writers. And I have saved the newest member of my committee for last: Ted, thank you so much for introducing this completely uninitiated twentieth-centuryist to the digital humanities, as it turned out to be one of the best parts of this project. You’ve been an incredible teacher. I am not much of a joiner, and I’m even less of a starter, but my dissertation writing group was perhaps just as crucial to me as my committee. You guys listened to me whine, you encouraged me, you held me accountable, you read my work, and you humored me when I insisted on pretending I wasn’t taking things seriously. Our meetings were sometimes the tether keeping me from crawling up into my own head for good. These past few months I have missed our coffee and conversation, hearing about all of the fascinating work you’re doing and hearing your thoughts about mine. Because of you all, I made deadlines I would have missed and wrote words in weeks where I would have been stuck. In other words, I got it done because I told you guys that I would, and you all acted like that was a reasonable thing for me to say. Elizabeth Tavares, Sarah Sahn, Esther Dettmar, Kate Norcross, Chris Hedlin, Heather McLeer, Silas Moon Cassinelli, Ben Bascom, and Jess Wong: thank you all.