Poets As Bookends: Lowells - Longfellow

     . . . .The Lowells of Massachusetts: An American Family (2017) by Nina Sankovich.

Another engrossing book about famous New England families. I will continue to enjoy this one until the 50’s I suppose and that Robert Lowell, who may have been bi-polar but was also a cruel and nasty person. From the very first Lowell in America in the 17th C, Percy Lowell, they were versifiers, even if Percy tended to do it as hymns.  It's a bit disconcerting how poetry, the desire to practice it, and then practicing it, like James Russell Lowell, ran through the various branches and generations, since so many of those individuals also suffered from afflictions that darkened the mind. James Russell Lowell's mother fell deeply into a depression when her daughter died.

But poetry continued to matter to educated readers, all the way through the era of that Robert Lowell then, a/k/a 'Cal' by those who knew him from early years, because he was like Caligula.

John Quincy Adams's life-long desire and dream was to possess the power of a great poet of genius. Yet he recognized that his every effort not only fell far short of genius, but fell far short of the quality he was thought he was creating while in the exhilaration of composition. He had the brilliance though to recognize this, even though he never gave up. This always warms me about JQ, among the many elements of his character that are so far from the received wisdom that JQ was a dull and dreary, dry fellow.

If it was true that the Lowells spoke only to Cabots, it's a wonder they intermarried with them, because in Boston, it was said further, that the Cabots spoke only to God. They also intermarried with the Lodges. There are so many Lowells and Lowell Cabots and Cabot Lowell Lodges, they usually have the same first names too, so I’m having a hard time with who is who.  Longfellow makes a cameo appearance only in this time of public admiration and sales of poets' works. Fanny, Longfellow’s wife, whose father got vastly wealthy working with the Lowells in their mill and factory ventures, isn’t mentioned at all.

This quick overview of 4 centuries of Lowells does make clear the division that rose among Lowells by the 1840’s and 50s, and why it came about. The wealthy Lowells (such as Fanny's father) wanted no interference with slavery and the south. They tried always to shut down talk and literature of abolition. Their mills thrived the south's cheap slave produced cotton for the tariff protected textiles they produced.  After the initial success of the Lowell mills, during which the farmers' daughters labor force were well-paid, well-treated, well-housed and well-fed, they became like their southern cotton suppliers and cut wages, created dangerous working conditions, increased the hours, overcrowded the dirty and vermin-infested houses,  and relied on punishment to speed up work.

The poor Lowells, however, were anti-slavery activists. Before the Lowells who got crazy rich from the Lowell factories, the Lowells all had tended to anti-slavery from the first days they arrived in the colony.  Judge  Lowell who, using the template of the Someset Decision by Judge Mansfield in England prior to Independence, declared it wasn't possible to keep someone enslaved who is brought into Britain. John Adams called these cases "The Freedom Cases"  this lawyer Lowell argued for -- and conducted successfully within Massachusetts, arguing that since in England a slave brought to free Britain could no longer be enslaved, and as Massachusetts was part of Britain, a slave brought to Massachusetts couldn't be a slave either.  This couldn't have worked in Virginia courts Virginia juries.

But the best part of this story of Judge Lowell is that it divided him from his family and community because he began as a Loyalist in the agitation that led up to the colonies declaring for independence, during the Stamp Act etc..  Because of the Somerset Decision he was sure that Britain was fair-minded and would decide in favor of the colonists' distress swiftly and effectively. He was shunned by family and community -- and lucky not to be tarred and feathered, stoned, or beat up, or his home burned, which happened to many who were labeled Loyalists.  That didn't happen, and he returned to the family as a full-blooded Patriot, who helped write Massachusetts' constitution, that overtly prohibited slavery within her borders.

Among the multitude of fascinating anecdotes the author has culled from the cache of Lowell letter quite lately discovered is this on. It was customary for upper, ruling caste, wealthy, Bostonians to send their girls and young ladies to the Ursuline convent in Charlestown for education. One of them, who would marry into the Lowells, experienced the terrifying end to this convent. The good men of Boston mobbed the convent because the Irish Catholics and the nuns had WHITE Puritan girls chained in the basement and whipped them and did Other Worse Things.*  They burned it to the ground. The nuns and their students fled out the back for their lives, hiding in fields of the farms, and gardens of the houses around the convent -- utterly terrified. Thus we see Pizzagate is baked into the USA DNA.

In These Times the most compelling section of The Lowells is the War of 1812, the "southern war", the "slaveholders' war", they called it - which indeed it was.  Lowells were passionate for quite some time about persuading New England to move to secede from the Union and join with England, becoming a new country of new New England.  I confess while reading this, I rather wished they'd been successful. For once I could appreciate the pleasure of alternate history, and this is the only spot in our history where it looked almost plausible, where everything else that came before would have had to change first. Even So, we'd still have had a war about slavery, for the South would never have remained within its borders, and neither would have "New England".

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* Whereas, these same men didn't give a fig about the girls and young women who, not classified as white, who really were confined and chained in basements or sheds or barns or prisons, and whipped, and experienced Other Worse Things.

Interview With Samuel R. Delany

"Samuel R. Delany Speaks" --

"The award-winning novelist discusses the intersection of race, sexual identity, and science fiction. By Cecilia D’Anastasio"

Among the questions D'Anastasio asks is this one:

CD: You have said, “For better or for worse, I am often spoken of as the first African-American science-fiction writer.” What did you mean by that?

Delany has a long and interesting response.  Here's a pull of a single paragraph in this response:

 ". . . . But another set of ghosts are needed to make our own discussion here make sense—ghosts who come from the genre (and I used the word advisedly) we call “the literary.” For an idea of how much literature has changed since I first entered the field as a writer in 1962, or perhaps when, in 1966, I attended my first science-fiction convention in Cleveland, consider first what the academy that gives us our sense of what literature is teaches today—and then consider how that differed from what it taught in 1967. In that year, there were no virtually black studies classes (much less programs or departments); there were no women’s studies classes or programs, and no gay studies or queer studies classes or programs."

After reading that paragraph, I sat and thought about it for a long time. This is called living history, and Delany is very aware of doing so.  Even the universities today aren't what they were when black studies, women's studies, gay studies, etc. were founded.

Checking out the interview is worthy it just to see the the very fine James Hamiltonphoto-portrait of Delany that illustrates the interview at the top.

Testosterone Poison: Hell on Wheels + Philip Kerr's Bernie Gunther series + Hatari!

Hell On Wheels, season 2, concludes with with hoary cliche:  Girl Kisses Guy; Girl Dies.

So the blonde widow and our anti-hero Protagonist on his way to Redemption, after hot-eyeing each other for most of two seasons, get it on.  More, they are in love! She's killed by a religious nutwinger -- a Lutheran Swede, no less, who also hoped to be Angel of Death for the Souix as a White Indian.  She was killed because she was evil slut -- or really, to punish Our Protagonist whose wife and children were killed in the Waw by Union soldiers -- or, more likely, just because he wanted to, because he's a crazy Swede on the prairie.
Actually, the love interest was fridged* to keep Protagonist free of those pesky inconvenient to plot attachments (particularly if attachment be female, because, as you know bhob, We Have No Idea What To Do With A Female except to make her be evile, holy, pregnant and / or a whore) and to provide yet another round of Hunt For Evile Bastards Who Killed My Wife - Mistress - Love of My Life, i.e. story = quest-movement.  How non-creative and lazy writing is that?  Plus Hell on Wheels bites continually from Deadwood in every way, including the music -- not original at all.

Starting with the confederate anti-hero protagonist, with whom we're to identify.
This whole set-up is so manufactured as opposed to growing out real history. And even worse, the characters are always leaving and then they're back!  Again!  And again!  And yet again!  How much failure of imagination can you have in a room of writers?

Though I don't find a lot of good in Hell on Wheels, it does have magnificent landscape shots, some of which are as poetical as anything Terrence Malick did in Days of Heaven. I always get a jolt of delight from scene in which the horses are left to themselves in the lush (Canadian) prairie grass,  while their riders posture and bluster at each other, and plunge ear deep into the delicious stuff, biting and chewing, tails swishing, the very picture of contented equines. And -- it is a western. I do like a good western.

Last couple of weeks my workouts have been accomplished to the audio accompaniment of  Philip Kerr's first Bernie Gunther novel, March Violets (1989), set in 1936 Berlin. Under cover of cynicism (which is certainly a plausible characteristic of a Berliner with a brain during those eras) Bernie despises everyone, particularly gay people and women, interrupted by brief hiatuses when his dick runs him, and when it is over he humiliates the gorgeous female too, because she deserves it.

As well, these attitudes come through as the author's deliberate choices,rather than rising organically from the narrative. Instead they rise organically out of the author's sense of superiority as self-identified with his first person protagonist narrator.

A naked demonstration of plot as men waving their dicks in each others' faces for no reason at all, is the Howard Hawks - John Wayne movie, Hatari, big game trappers.  In the course of the opening scenes, they beat down a rhino in their jeep, followed by a new guy entering a room, and all the men within seconds insult each other and start swinging.  And the girl? What else can writers do with a girl in a John Wayne movie, even if she's Elsa Martinelli?

Testosterone poisoning!  Like Hell On Wheels (and so many more such as the relentlessly ugly masculine grey Boss), the Bernie Gunther Berliner private dick series, this movie is suffocating in the Sea of Testosterone -- and the writers have no idea what to do with women if they aren't being f&cked, f&cked up, f&cked over, or killed

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* Or could it have been the actress, tired of having nothing to do on this series except quiver posture weakly, decided to move on?