I love reading a collection of letters, and presumably that’s why I bought a copy of Letters to Louise (1959) – a collection of letters that Theodore Dreiser wrote to his friend and editor Louise Campbell (who was edited this book and wrote the commentary between letters). It certainly wasn’t because I had any affection for Theodore Dreiser, whom I have never read – though Sister Carrie has been on my shelf for a long time. Having said that, it might have gone in the moving-house-cull.
Dreiser tended to write quite short letters, often signed with alternative names (James Fenimore Cooper, Louisa May Alcott, etc.), but Campbell’s commentary is useful and engaging. And what I enjoyed most was the fondness and admiration that Dreiser manages to get into his letters – admiration for her editing talent. Since they met when she wrote him a letter chastising him for criticising Philadelphia, it’s impressive that he was open to the friendship at all.
Books like this are always a bit better when you get both sides of the exchange, which Letters to Louise doesn’t have, but I still enjoyed it. I feel like I know Dreiser pretty well from this short collection – or one part of his personality, anyway – and it’s fun to have Project Names and 25 Books in 25 Days come together to get something unexpected off my shelves.
I have a difficult relationship with Dreiser, unlike any other famous author I’ve tried. In my high school (“honors”) English class, we had a list of novels from which we were to select some number (20?), read them, and write about in the course of the school year. I enjoyed the experience for the most part, was glad to explore and widen my knowledge… but man, I found An American Tragedy a slog. Not for the story or atmosphere, but I just found the writing leaden and off-putting — and that was almost a unique kind of reaction for me; usually a writer’s style was “transparent” for me, something I didn’t notice as I devoured the characters and story and atmosphere. But there was something in the way one sentence didn’t set up the next, and there was no flow to it all, that really put me off.
I’ve discovered since that this is not a unique reaction to his writing (though it’s generally acknowledged as something that doesn’t matter in comparison to his greatness), but I knew nothing of that at the time. So I guess I’m somewhat bemused that there was active editing involved in arriving at this result, when the book seemed almost un-edited. But on the other hand, I was a callow know-it-all teenager at the time, and maybe I would react very different now (I’ve never gone back).
Oh, do read Sister Carrie, Simon, one of my favorite novels of all time. Great and compelling – so sorry you started with American Tragedy! That was definitely taking it at the wrong end (thanks school), and I don’t see how this letters collection could help much. Sister Carrie is the story of a country girl who comes to the city where the reality of the hideous slave conditions of a working girl’s life impels her to a life of immorality – becoming a young man’s mistress, then an older man’s. Most English Victorian novels stop with the first whisper of a female’s descent into sin; this tells the story naturalistically, and Carrie becomes and actress and…Oh, no spoilers, but it is an incredibly absorbing page-turner and I can hardly recommend a better read. On the other hand, I once advised you to read Gaudy Night, so I dunno…xxxx
LOL Dreiser is one of those novelists that readers are going to miss out on when they swear off Dead White Males. Like Diana, I thought Sister Carrie was excellent and so is Jennie Gerhart, both books tackling the gender-specific hypocrisies of the day.
Jennie Gerhardt, here I come! Thanks, Lisa.
I own at least one Dreiser (or did – it may have gone in a cull like yours…) but haven’t read him yet. So many authors still to be read… :(