The Bookworm: No. 44, The Mysterious Stranger
No. 44, The Mysterious Stranger, by Mark Twain. 202 pages. University of California Press. 1969.
“It is true, that which I have revealed to you: there is no God, no universe, no human race, no earthly life, no heaven, no hell. It is all a Dream, a grotesque and foolish dream. Nothing exists but You. And You are but a Thought—a vagrant Thought, a useless Thought, a homeless Thought, wandering forlorn among the empty eternities!” (p. 187)
Well… That was depressing.
Published posthumously in 1969, No. 44, The Mysterious Stranger is truly a strange little romp — though it is the most playful and imaginative Twain novel I have read.
This is the authoritative text issued by the Mark Twain Project, which I bought for super cheap at Sweets’ garage sale last spring or summer. No. 44 was originally included in a 1969 collection titled Mark Twain’s Mysterious Stranger Manuscripts, which, according to the “Note on the Text,”
brought into print, for the first time, three quite different versions of Mark Twain’s story about a superhuman character, which the author left in manuscript at the time of his death in 1910: “The Chronicle of Young Satan,” some 55,000 words written in several stints during the years from 1897 to 1900, and left incomplete; “Schoolhouse Hill,” some 15,000 words written in 1898 and also left incomplete; and “No. 44, The Mysterious Stranger,” some 65,000 words written mostly between 1902 and 1905, and last worked on in 1908.
The collection was an attempt to atone for the disgraceful liberties taken by Albert Bigelow Pain, Twain’s literary executor, and Frederick A. Duneka, an editor at Harper & Brothers. In 1916, six years after Twain’s death, Pain and Duneka posthumously published a Twain novel titled The Mysterious Stranger. In 1963 it was revealed that the story was a collage of all three mysterious stranger works. Not only did Pain and Duneka delete one-fourth of Twain’s words, they added an additional character. I guess it was a sign of things to come; Twain’s work has suffered from editorial overzealousness on a number of occasions, most notably in the case of his autobiography. Regardless, No. 44 was the only mysterious stranger story that Twain seems to have finished, or at least come closest to completing. Thus, the publication of this authoritative text is, as the back cover states, the first time the book has been presented “as Mark Twain wrote it.”
And what a doozy it is, melding the halcyon innocence of Twain’s iconic works with the deep cynicism he developed in the last decade of his life.
No. 44 takes place in a medieval Austrian village, complete with a river running through it (sound familiar?), an alcoholic priest who has no fear of Satan, a grandiose castle, and another, less stately castle wherein lies a print shop run covertly by a handful of workers. August, the sixteen or seventeen year old main character, is among them. Also living in the castle is an assortment of people somehow related to the man who operates the print shop, but they are mostly inconsequential — which is sad because Twain characterized everyone in great detail.
One day, while all of the castle’s inhabitants are eating lunch together, a young vagabond about August’s age enters. He says he is friendless and very hungry. A couple people mock him, but the housekeeper takes him in as a son. His name, they learn, is Number 44, New Series 864,962. Forty-four asks for work and the master gives him the most strenuous tasks, which he does tirelessly. Forty-four is super strong, never sleeps, and never retaliates when some of the print shop assholes push him around. August befriends him eventually and notices that 44 is very strange. Out of thin air, 44 produces hot drinks and food, and he can read August’s mind. After the master makes 44 a printer’s apprentice, the other printers go on strike just when a big project is due. When the strike ends, on the eve of the project deadline, the printers ascend the stairs to the print shop to find the work being done by invisible beings. They finish the work while the printers stare in disbelief. Needless to say, life in the castle is turned upside down, especially when a group of tireless “Duplicates” — exact replicas of every print shop worker — emerge to displace their original versions.
At first, the book was humdrum and tedious, but it took on a different tone and feel after those events — all of which are initiated by 44. Anything could happen after that, and seemingly does. August, who was a pious Catholic at the beginning of the book, is enchanted by 44 and his mysterious powers. Forty-four gives August the power to become invisible, and they even travel through space and time together. Essentially, No. 44 is Twain-style fantasy.
It is also very cynical and anti-religious. Forty-four takes every opportunity to mock religion and the town’s revered priest, Father Adolf. (According to the “Explanatory Notes” in the back of the book, Father Adolf was based on Twain’s “unfavorable impressions of Dr. Karl Lueger, leader of the anti-Jewish Christian Socialist Party and Burgomeister of Vienna.” Sadly prophetic is a scene when Father Adolf burns a woman accused of being a witch.) Forty-four also is not a fan of the human race. It is, he concedes, entertaining. These characterizations are no doubt due to the cynicism Twain understandably developed in his later life. Twain descended into deep depression after the deaths of two of his daughters (in 1896 and 1909) and the death of his wife (in 1904). He also lost a ton of money through ill-advised investments, most notably in the failed Paige typesetting machine. Twain was a sensitive and bitter man during the years he wrote No. 44. The “Explanatory Notes” includes an account of him destroying 125 pages because he considered them “too diffusive.” Twain’s wife had died a year earlier and the notes explain that “it is likely that the ‘too diffusive’ portion of the manuscript he destroyed had been written in the extremity of his grief.”
I hate to say it, but “diffuse” is the perfect one-word description of No. 44. The book packs a lot into its 187 pages of text. Though it may be incomplete, and is woefully inconsistent at times, it is still interesting and entertaining — albeit a little depressing.
Words I learned/am still unfamiliar with: All definitions are courtesy of my MacBook dictionary. Phantasmagoric: derivative of “phantasmagoria,” which means “a sequence of real or imaginary images like that seen in a dream.” Hussite: “a member or follower of the religious movement begun by John Huss. After Huss's execution the Hussites took up arms against the Holy Roman Empire and demanded a set of reforms that anticipated the Reformation. Most of the demands were granted 1436, and a church was established that remained independent of the Roman Catholic Church until 1620.” Abstruse: “difficult to understand; obscure.” Malediction: “a magical word or phrase uttered with the intention of bringing about evil or destruction; a curse.” Poltroon: “an utter coward.” Puissant: “having great power or influence.” Monstrance: “(in the Roman Catholic Church) an open or transparent receptacle in which the consecrated Host is exposed for veneration.” Fructify: “make (something) fruitful or productive.” Benignity: “kindness or tolerance toward others.” Hardihood: “boldness; daring.” Contumacy: “stubborn refusal to obey or comply with authority, esp. a court order or summons.” Rushlight: “a candle made by dipping the pith of a rush in tallow.” Croesus: “(6th century BC), last king of Lydia c. 560–546 BC. Renowned for his great wealth, he subjugated the Greek cities on the coast of Asia Minor before being overthrown by Cyrus the Great of Persia.” Divan: “a long low sofa without a back or arms, typically placed against a wall.” Desideratum: “something that is needed or wanted.” Celerity: “swiftness of movement.” Kine: “cows collectively.”
