The Autobiography of Mark Twain. Volume 2.
eds. Benjamin Griffin, Harriet Elinor Smith , et al. Berkeley, CA:
University of California Press, 2013.
As reviewed by Ted Odenwald
Volume 2 of Mark Twain’s dictated autobiography is another collection of gems published, per his wishes, more than 100 years after his death. Mischievously relishing his vantage point—speaking from the grave—he delights in the many liberties he can take with impunity: attacking what he considers to be human mindlessness; excoriating social and political figures who personify every vice known to humanity; berating publishers, inventors, and fellow businessmen who nearly led him to financial ruin by cheating, giving bad advice, and for preying upon his ignorance within the business world. He rages against the oppression of imperialism. On the other hand, he praises those he admires, including former President Grant and H. H. Rogers. He also speaks poignantly of his family: his wife, Olivia, and his daughters, Jean, Clara, and Suzy. This volume, containing 110 dictations, collected in 1906-7, is in a virtual stream- of- consciousness pattern, developing ideas as they occur to him.
Calling his autobiography a mirror, Clemens/Twain says that he is “…looking at himself…all the time…Incidentally I notice the people that pass by at my back –I get glimpses of them in that mirror—and whenever they say or do anything that can help advertise me and flatter me and raise me in my own estimation, I set them down….” This passage typifies the tonal effect of many of Twain’s dictations: while unabashedly sorting through events and people based upon how they reinforce his sense of self-importance, he engages in self-mockery. His mirror sometimes presents a distorted image, warped by his imagination or memory lapses; the distortions are refocused for the reader through the outstanding job of editing done by Griffin and Smith’s team. The editors provide about 200 pages of detailed explanations of events, identification of places and people, and comparisons with earlier autobiographical and biographical materials. Twain does not care that the events are not in any specific sequence, for this autobiography is “…a pleasure excursion [which] sidetracks itself anywhere that there is a circus, or a fresh excitement of any kind, and seldom waits until the show is over, but backs up and goes again as a fresher one is advertised.”
One may note a bit of swagger in his tone, for Twain spent a great deal of time with high-level figures—including royalty—throughout the world. He occasionally pops his own bubble of self-importance, confessing how he has committed faux pas, which he can only excuse through his age or his ignorance. He holds nothing back when talking about the important figures. He delights that the dictations have given him the opportunity to feed his “ancient grudges…competently and exhaustively.” He boasts that his criticisms “have flayed and mangled and mutilated [his victims] beyond the dreams of avarice.” Among his targets is J.W Paige, the inventor of an automated typesetting machine that failed, costing Twain a fortune: Twain claims that Paige is “ a natural liar and thief…a descendent of Judas Iscariot.” Twain calls author Brett Harte “the most contemptible, poor little soulless blatherskate that exists on the planet….” Even President Theodore Roosevelt does not escape Twain’s sarcasm: “[Roosevelt] represents what the American gentleman ought not to be, and does it as clearly, intelligently, and exhaustively as he represents what the American gentleman is. We are by long odds the most ill-mannered nation, civilized or savage, that exists on the planet….our President stands for us like a colossal monument visible from all the ends of the earth. He is fearfully hard and coarse where the other gentlemen would exhibit kindness and delicacy.”
Twain argues vigorously on a number of issues. He hates imperialism. One of his prime targets is King Leopold of Belgium, whose atrocities in Africa lead Twain to give him the moniker, “the butcher.” He also believes that the United States’ behavior in the Philippines and Cuba is unacceptable. He believes that our country’s manners are atrocious. “No other civilized nation is so uncourteous, so hard, so ungentle, so ill-bred as ours. We wear several impressive titles—conferred by ourselves, of course—whereby we publish to the world that we are the only free and independent nation; that our land is the special particular land of the free and home of the brave, and so on and so forth….”
Twain’s views concerning religion might shock readers, especially if they have not read earlier publications of “correspondence” between Adam, Eve, and Heaven. He calls Christendom “a soldier camp”; he claims that “…the fleets of the world could swim in spacious comfort in the innocent blood [Christianity] has spilt.” But he is just warming up; he tears into the traditional Christian-Judeo beliefs in God, the scriptures, morality, and the “law.” He believes that religions have grown out of man’s inflated self-image. “There are many pretty and winning things about this human race. It is perhaps the poorer of the inventions of all the gods, but it has never suspected it once. There is nothing prettier than its naïve and complacent appreciation of itself. It comes out frankly and proclaims without bashfulness, or any sign of a blush, that it is the noblest work of God. It has had a billion opportunities to know better, but all signs fail with [mankind]….” It is fair to say that not much is sacred to Twain.
Ted Odenwald and his wife, Shirley have lived in Oakland for 43 years. He taught HS English at Glen Rock High School for all of those years plus one more. Now he is enjoying time spent with his family, singing in the North Jersey Chorus and quenching his wanderlust. Ted is also the Worship Leader at the Ramapo Valley Baptist Church in Oakland.