The Bookworm: The Autobiography of Mark Twain
The Autobiography of Mark Twain, edited by Charles Neider. 508 pages. Perennial Classics. 1959.
It has been a long time since I finished a book — probably since January. I have had no time, or have not made time. Regardless, I was finally able to polish off Twain’s autobiography, the 1959 version, last night.
There are a couple different versions of Twain’s autobiography floating around, the most recent of which was published in 2010 in recognition of the 100th anniversary of his death. (It seems like a sad thing to recognize, but it was in accordance to Twain’s wishes. I’ll get to that later.) Twain worked on an autobiography now and again throughout the later part of his life, not following any chronology or order and leaving a tome of historical recollections, commentary, and opinions when he died. According to the introduction, written by editor Charles Neider, “Mark Twain left a manuscript of unwieldy proportions, which included whole small books, such as Is Shakespeare Dead? He had thrown them into the grab bag which he thought of as his autobiography (p. x).” Both Albert Bigelow Paine and Bernard DeVoto waded through the mess and published their own versions of the autobiography in 1924 and 1940, respectively. Neider explains that Paine’s version was “incomplete, raw, badly arranged” and that DeVoto “did not hesitate to select, rearrange and edit.” Neider learned from the mistakes of both to compile this 1959 version, though he still weeded out material to focus on the “more truly autobiographical, the more purely literary and the more characteristically humorous material (p. xxiii).”
Neider, though, notes that not all the omissions in this version are his responsibility. He left out material at the request of Twain’s only surviving daughter, Clara. Among them were chapters that Twain felt “will get my heirs and assigns burned alive if they venture to print it this side of A.D. 2006 — which I judge they won’t (p. xxiv).” Twain left instructions not to print certain material for fifty or 100 years due to their scandalous nature. Neider explains, “On the title pages of two of the chapters is a penned note in his hand: ‘Not to be exposed to any eye until the edition of A.D. 2406 (p. xxiv).’” Much of Twain’s caution, despite the fact he said he was writing from the dead and had no reservations whatsoever, was due to the fact he did not want his opinions to affect his heirs or friends. He wanted those to wait until after they were dead. I assume some of the forbidden chapters were printed in the 2010 autobiography.
Anyway. Twain’s autobiography is truly a grab bag of recollections that detail much of his life: outlines of his childhood in Hannibal, his family, his adventures in Carson City and San Francisco, and the beginning of his lecturing and literary career. After that point in his life, the book turns into a somewhat dreary — though at times informative and humorous — account of his financial misfortunes (though the Paige typesetting machine is never mentioned), speaking engagements, personal and professional acquaintances (often accompanied by very incisive and disparaging opinions of them), and glimpses of his world travels. Much of the last 100 pages or so deal with the deaths of his first daughter, Susy, and his wife. His heartbreaking account of the sudden death of his youngest daughter, Jean, on Christmas Eve 1909 was the final chapter of the book. Before his death, Twain specifically told Paine that the death of Jean would be the final chapter in his autobiography.
Surprisingly little of this autobiography was about writing. Twain mentioned it off and on, though. He wrote extensively about the long learning curve he suffered in regards to the ins and outs of the publishing world. (He hated reading contracts and trying to understand them, so he just signed them — much to his disadvantage.) He also wrote a little about his personal writing process, the people who inspired his characters, and his time as a reporter. But he did not dwell on his literary works at all. In that sense, Twain’s autobiography felt like a life-encompassing version of Roughing It or Life on the Mississippi.
On that note, my favorite parts of this book focused on his upbringing in Hannibal, his time on the Mississippi, and his pioneering days out west. Before he became famous as a lecturer and writer, Twain was a printer’s apprentice, a steamboat pilot, and reporter in Carson City and San Francisco. He also spent a lot of time in small mining camps, hoping to strike veins of gold or silver in California and Nevada. Needless to say, the most adventurous parts of his life where the most interesting, as were the characters and tales he recalled. The comfortable, very aristocratic life he lived after moving to the East Coast and marrying paled in comparison. Though Twain complained that wealthy or titled socialites did nothing but talk “exclusively about people with titles, and what they were doing when the talkers met them last or heard of them last (p. 472),” the later parts of his autobiography often resembled that kind of name dropping. There were good enough reasons for it, though; he often did it to disparage someone, or there was something worthwhile mentioning about his encounters with his contemporaries, something that made him think and wonder.
The saddest and most shocking thing about the book: Twain’s personal admission that his neglect caused the death of his first child, Langdon. “I was the cause of the child’s illness,” he wrote (p. 249). On a winter carriage ride, Twain “dropped into a reverie” and did not notice when the furs wrapped around his son fell away and exposed his legs. When the coachman eventually noticed, Langdon was “almost frozen.” Twain did not think he had ever confessed to it until he wrote about it for his autobiography.
Words I learned/am still unfamiliar with: All definitions are courtesy of my MacBook dictionary. (Ready? Here we go!) Dross: “something regarded as worthless; rubbish.” Abeyance: “a state of temporary disuse or suspension.” Sidelight: in this context is it is used to me “a piece of incidental information that helps to clarify or enliven a subject.” Adz: “a tool similar to an ax with an arched blade at right angles to the handle, used for cutting or shaping large pieces of wood.” Paling: “a fence made from pointed wooden or metal stakes.” Stile: “an arrangement of steps that allows people but not animals to climb over a fence or wall.” Chiroptera: “an order of mammals that comprises the bats.” Allopathic: “the treatment of disease by conventional means, i.e., with drugs having opposite effects to the symptoms.” Ducal: “of, like, or relating to a duke or dukedom.” Bagatelle: “a thing of little importance; a very easy task.” Entail: in this context it means “the inheritance of (property) over a number of generations so that ownership remains within a particular group, usually one family.” Evince: “reveal the presence of (a quality or feeling).” FFV: “First Family of Virginia.” Mountebank: “a person who deceives others, esp. in order to trick them out of their money; a charlatan.” Barouche: “a four-wheeled horse-drawn carriage with a collapsible hood over the rear half, a seat in front for the driver, and seats facing each other for the passengers, used esp. in the 19th century.” Gasometer: “a tank for storing and measuring gas.” Vainglorious: “inordinate pride in oneself or one's achievements; excessive vanity.” Emolument: “a salary, fee, or profit from employment or office.” Duodecimo: “a size of book page that results from the folding of each printed sheet into 12 leaves (24 pages).” Grass widow: “a woman whose husband is away often or for a prolonged period.” Avidity: “extreme eagerness or enthusiasm.” Meretricious: “apparently attractive but having in reality no value or integrity.” Freshet: “the flood of a river from heavy rain or melted snow.” Garret: “a top-floor or attic room, esp. a small dismal one (traditionally inhabited by an artist).” Darn: in this context it means “mend (knitted material or a hole in this) by weaving yarn across the hole with a needle.” Lignum vitae: another term name for guaiacum, “an evergreen tree of the Caribbean and tropical America, formerly important for its hard, heavy, oily timber but now scarce.” Obsequies: “funeral rites.” Cerebration: “the working of the brain; thinking.” Filch: “pilfer or steal (something, esp. a thing of small value) in a casual way.” Baluster: “a short pillar or column, typically decorative in design, in a series supporting a rail or coping.” Interlard: “intersperse or embellish speech or writing with different material.” Ostler: variant of “hostler,” “a man employed to look after the horses of people staying at an inn.” Lambent: “(of light or fire) glowing, gleaming, or flickering with a soft radiance.” Mephitic: “(esp. of a gas or vapor) foul-smelling; noxious.” Tarry: “stay longer than intended; delay leaving a place.” Octavo: “a size of book page that results from the folding of each printed sheet into eight leaves (sixteen pages).” Neuralgia: “intense, typically intermittent pain along the course of a nerve, esp. in the head or face.” Revivify: “give new life or vigor to.” Amanuensis: “a literary or artistic assistant, in particular one who takes dictation or copies manuscripts.” Jejune: “naive, simplistic, and superficial.” Collocation: in this context it means “the action of placing things side by side or in position.” Victual: “food or provisions, typically as prepared for consumption.” Landau: “a horse-drawn four-wheeled enclosed carriage with a removable front cover and a back cover that can be raised and lowered.” Interregnum: “a period when normal government is suspended, esp. between successive reigns or regimes.” Alacrity: “brisk and cheerful readiness.” Picayune: in this context it means “a small coin of little value, esp. a 5-cent piece.” Evanescent: “soon passing out of sight, memory, or existence; quickly fading or disappearing.” Eleemosynary: “of, relating to, or dependent on charity; charitable.” Reticule: “a woman's small handbag, originally netted and typically having a drawstring and decorated with embroidery or beading.” Tocsin: “an alarm bell or signal.” Loggia: “a gallery or room with one or more open sides, esp. one that forms part of a house and has one side open to the garden.”
Annihilation has no terrors for me, because I have already tried it before I was born — a hundred million years — and I have suffered more in an hour, in this life, than I remember to have suffered in the whole hundred million years put together. There was a peace, a serenity, an absence of all sense of responsibility, an absence of worry, an absence of care, grief, perplexity; and the presence of a deep content and unbroken satisfaction in that hundred million years of holiday which I look back upon with a tender longing and with a grateful desire to resume, when the opportunity comes (pp. 326-327).
It has been a long time since I finished a book — probably since January. I have had no time, or have not made time. Regardless, I was finally able to polish off Twain’s autobiography, the 1959 version, last night.
There are a couple different versions of Twain’s autobiography floating around, the most recent of which was published in 2010 in recognition of the 100th anniversary of his death. (It seems like a sad thing to recognize, but it was in accordance to Twain’s wishes. I’ll get to that later.) Twain worked on an autobiography now and again throughout the later part of his life, not following any chronology or order and leaving a tome of historical recollections, commentary, and opinions when he died. According to the introduction, written by editor Charles Neider, “Mark Twain left a manuscript of unwieldy proportions, which included whole small books, such as Is Shakespeare Dead? He had thrown them into the grab bag which he thought of as his autobiography (p. x).” Both Albert Bigelow Paine and Bernard DeVoto waded through the mess and published their own versions of the autobiography in 1924 and 1940, respectively. Neider explains that Paine’s version was “incomplete, raw, badly arranged” and that DeVoto “did not hesitate to select, rearrange and edit.” Neider learned from the mistakes of both to compile this 1959 version, though he still weeded out material to focus on the “more truly autobiographical, the more purely literary and the more characteristically humorous material (p. xxiii).”
Neider, though, notes that not all the omissions in this version are his responsibility. He left out material at the request of Twain’s only surviving daughter, Clara. Among them were chapters that Twain felt “will get my heirs and assigns burned alive if they venture to print it this side of A.D. 2006 — which I judge they won’t (p. xxiv).” Twain left instructions not to print certain material for fifty or 100 years due to their scandalous nature. Neider explains, “On the title pages of two of the chapters is a penned note in his hand: ‘Not to be exposed to any eye until the edition of A.D. 2406 (p. xxiv).’” Much of Twain’s caution, despite the fact he said he was writing from the dead and had no reservations whatsoever, was due to the fact he did not want his opinions to affect his heirs or friends. He wanted those to wait until after they were dead. I assume some of the forbidden chapters were printed in the 2010 autobiography.
Anyway. Twain’s autobiography is truly a grab bag of recollections that detail much of his life: outlines of his childhood in Hannibal, his family, his adventures in Carson City and San Francisco, and the beginning of his lecturing and literary career. After that point in his life, the book turns into a somewhat dreary — though at times informative and humorous — account of his financial misfortunes (though the Paige typesetting machine is never mentioned), speaking engagements, personal and professional acquaintances (often accompanied by very incisive and disparaging opinions of them), and glimpses of his world travels. Much of the last 100 pages or so deal with the deaths of his first daughter, Susy, and his wife. His heartbreaking account of the sudden death of his youngest daughter, Jean, on Christmas Eve 1909 was the final chapter of the book. Before his death, Twain specifically told Paine that the death of Jean would be the final chapter in his autobiography.
Surprisingly little of this autobiography was about writing. Twain mentioned it off and on, though. He wrote extensively about the long learning curve he suffered in regards to the ins and outs of the publishing world. (He hated reading contracts and trying to understand them, so he just signed them — much to his disadvantage.) He also wrote a little about his personal writing process, the people who inspired his characters, and his time as a reporter. But he did not dwell on his literary works at all. In that sense, Twain’s autobiography felt like a life-encompassing version of Roughing It or Life on the Mississippi.
On that note, my favorite parts of this book focused on his upbringing in Hannibal, his time on the Mississippi, and his pioneering days out west. Before he became famous as a lecturer and writer, Twain was a printer’s apprentice, a steamboat pilot, and reporter in Carson City and San Francisco. He also spent a lot of time in small mining camps, hoping to strike veins of gold or silver in California and Nevada. Needless to say, the most adventurous parts of his life where the most interesting, as were the characters and tales he recalled. The comfortable, very aristocratic life he lived after moving to the East Coast and marrying paled in comparison. Though Twain complained that wealthy or titled socialites did nothing but talk “exclusively about people with titles, and what they were doing when the talkers met them last or heard of them last (p. 472),” the later parts of his autobiography often resembled that kind of name dropping. There were good enough reasons for it, though; he often did it to disparage someone, or there was something worthwhile mentioning about his encounters with his contemporaries, something that made him think and wonder.
The saddest and most shocking thing about the book: Twain’s personal admission that his neglect caused the death of his first child, Langdon. “I was the cause of the child’s illness,” he wrote (p. 249). On a winter carriage ride, Twain “dropped into a reverie” and did not notice when the furs wrapped around his son fell away and exposed his legs. When the coachman eventually noticed, Langdon was “almost frozen.” Twain did not think he had ever confessed to it until he wrote about it for his autobiography.
Words I learned/am still unfamiliar with: All definitions are courtesy of my MacBook dictionary. (Ready? Here we go!) Dross: “something regarded as worthless; rubbish.” Abeyance: “a state of temporary disuse or suspension.” Sidelight: in this context is it is used to me “a piece of incidental information that helps to clarify or enliven a subject.” Adz: “a tool similar to an ax with an arched blade at right angles to the handle, used for cutting or shaping large pieces of wood.” Paling: “a fence made from pointed wooden or metal stakes.” Stile: “an arrangement of steps that allows people but not animals to climb over a fence or wall.” Chiroptera: “an order of mammals that comprises the bats.” Allopathic: “the treatment of disease by conventional means, i.e., with drugs having opposite effects to the symptoms.” Ducal: “of, like, or relating to a duke or dukedom.” Bagatelle: “a thing of little importance; a very easy task.” Entail: in this context it means “the inheritance of (property) over a number of generations so that ownership remains within a particular group, usually one family.” Evince: “reveal the presence of (a quality or feeling).” FFV: “First Family of Virginia.” Mountebank: “a person who deceives others, esp. in order to trick them out of their money; a charlatan.” Barouche: “a four-wheeled horse-drawn carriage with a collapsible hood over the rear half, a seat in front for the driver, and seats facing each other for the passengers, used esp. in the 19th century.” Gasometer: “a tank for storing and measuring gas.” Vainglorious: “inordinate pride in oneself or one's achievements; excessive vanity.” Emolument: “a salary, fee, or profit from employment or office.” Duodecimo: “a size of book page that results from the folding of each printed sheet into 12 leaves (24 pages).” Grass widow: “a woman whose husband is away often or for a prolonged period.” Avidity: “extreme eagerness or enthusiasm.” Meretricious: “apparently attractive but having in reality no value or integrity.” Freshet: “the flood of a river from heavy rain or melted snow.” Garret: “a top-floor or attic room, esp. a small dismal one (traditionally inhabited by an artist).” Darn: in this context it means “mend (knitted material or a hole in this) by weaving yarn across the hole with a needle.” Lignum vitae: another term name for guaiacum, “an evergreen tree of the Caribbean and tropical America, formerly important for its hard, heavy, oily timber but now scarce.” Obsequies: “funeral rites.” Cerebration: “the working of the brain; thinking.” Filch: “pilfer or steal (something, esp. a thing of small value) in a casual way.” Baluster: “a short pillar or column, typically decorative in design, in a series supporting a rail or coping.” Interlard: “intersperse or embellish speech or writing with different material.” Ostler: variant of “hostler,” “a man employed to look after the horses of people staying at an inn.” Lambent: “(of light or fire) glowing, gleaming, or flickering with a soft radiance.” Mephitic: “(esp. of a gas or vapor) foul-smelling; noxious.” Tarry: “stay longer than intended; delay leaving a place.” Octavo: “a size of book page that results from the folding of each printed sheet into eight leaves (sixteen pages).” Neuralgia: “intense, typically intermittent pain along the course of a nerve, esp. in the head or face.” Revivify: “give new life or vigor to.” Amanuensis: “a literary or artistic assistant, in particular one who takes dictation or copies manuscripts.” Jejune: “naive, simplistic, and superficial.” Collocation: in this context it means “the action of placing things side by side or in position.” Victual: “food or provisions, typically as prepared for consumption.” Landau: “a horse-drawn four-wheeled enclosed carriage with a removable front cover and a back cover that can be raised and lowered.” Interregnum: “a period when normal government is suspended, esp. between successive reigns or regimes.” Alacrity: “brisk and cheerful readiness.” Picayune: in this context it means “a small coin of little value, esp. a 5-cent piece.” Evanescent: “soon passing out of sight, memory, or existence; quickly fading or disappearing.” Eleemosynary: “of, relating to, or dependent on charity; charitable.” Reticule: “a woman's small handbag, originally netted and typically having a drawstring and decorated with embroidery or beading.” Tocsin: “an alarm bell or signal.” Loggia: “a gallery or room with one or more open sides, esp. one that forms part of a house and has one side open to the garden.”
