Andrea Lynn,
Humanities Editor
217-333-2177; andreal@illinois.edu
Released
3/15/07
CHAMPAIGN, Ill. —
As many Americans know, Sam Clemens led a rich and complex life –
sometimes as Mark Twain, sometimes not. He usually is remembered as
a journalist, stand-up comic, world traveler, philosopher, and literary
giant.
But even a resume like that doesn’t tell the whole story or catch
the most interesting dimension for our moment in time: Sam Clemens was
obsessed with media technology, exhilarated by it, and boggled by it.
This previously untold story – now revealed in a new book –
connects directly to our own experience.
In the new book, “Printer’s Devil: Mark Twain and the American
Publishing Revolution,” we discover how profoundly the new information
age of the 19th century and its maelstrom of technological changes affected
the publishing industry and this backwoods boy from Missouri, who first
learned the tricks of the trade as a teenage “printer’s
devil,” an assistant in an old-fashioned print shop. Twain spent
the rest of his life bedeviling printers and publishers, investors and
readers, as he exploited and subverted these new technologies in the
stories he wrote and the books he published with his own company.
According to its author, Bruce Michelson, “Printer’s Devil”
is the first book to focus on the transformative consequences of the
“radical reinvention of print” on the hellion from Hannibal,
who as Mark Twain (1835-1910) became “America’s first true
media icon, with a dream of power in every phase of the publishing industry.”
“There are biographies covering his early life as a printer and
books about his entanglements with the Paige typesetters, but nothing
until now that makes the connections between Mark Twain and publishing,
identity, authorship, the function of books and the role of literature,”
said Michelson, a professor of English at the University of Illinois.
Making his case with such works as “The Innocents Abroad,”
“A Tramp Abroad,” “Adventures of Huckleberry Finn”
and “A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court,”
Michelson argues that Mark Twain “shaped his artistic aspirations
and writing strategies to exploit the new technologies in print.”
“Mark Twain thought deeply about the cultural and psychological
impact of the industrializing media that began to overwhelm the United
States as he was growing up,” Michelson wrote. “His writing
is energized and informed by his response to a cataclysmic expansion
and transformation of publishing, a turmoil of innovation. He wrote
about the impact upon culture and public life and upon the nature of
the American self.”
Throughout his book, Michelson rejects the cautionary tales of so many
previous biographies – that Twain squandered his genius and sacrificed
his writing to the pursuit of power, fortune and fame.
There is no question, said Michelson, that Twain’s “publishing
business infatuations and disasters, his self-destructive episodes
of expertise and prognostication with regard to the production and
marketing of printed images and words could wreak havoc with his morale
and pull him away, for long intervals, from his own writing.”
“But Mark Twain’s infatuation with the hardware and possibilities
of print media deepens and complicates many important imaginative texts that
he did manage to write.”
Indeed, his passionate attention to nearly every phase of designing,
producing and selling books, newspapers and national magazines, “resonates
in the structure of his narratives, the essence of the wit, the voices
of the prose – and in themes that have established Mark Twain
as a consummately American and ‘modern’ author.”
According to Michelson, at least 70 “decisive” inventions
and patents related to American printing and publishing came along between
1830 and 1855, and five of them “loom large in expanding and reinventing
the American publishing industry. Each of them attracted Clemens’
attention early and held it long; each permanently altered the economic
and cultural power of the printed page.”
Those five inventions were stereotype and electrotype; the rapid development
and deployment of powered type-revolving and automated bed-and-platen
presses; the mechanized manufacture of low-cost paper; the rapid expansion
of railroad and telegraph networks; and technical advances and cost-reductions
in printing illustrations.
The massive dissemination of printed images in periodicals and books
“transformed Mark Twain’s thinking about the books that
he intended to write, the subjects he wrote about, his rhetorical style,
and the tastes and values of the audience he was writing to.”
Published in 1869 with 234 illustrations, “The Innocents Abroad,”
a travel book about Europe and the Holy Land, established Twain as a
writer of “picture-laden books,” Michelson said. Twain “began
to play a central role in designing books that followed, hiring his
illustrators, vetting their pictures, doing images himself – and
collaborating, now and then, in the piracy of other people’s
work.”
“Huckleberry Finn” (1885) is a special moment in Mark Twain’s
career, since the novel explores different technological eras in the
history of the book in America: “In several dimensions, this
novel is both an artifact of a new information age and a meditation
on what it meant to be an author amid the expansion of American publishing.”
“Huck” also offers two books for the price of one: “a
naïve personal history written or spoken by a boy in his teens,
fresh from a perilous experience on the Mississippi River and telling
it all essentially for his neighbors, and a performance by the most
celebrated humorist of the Gilded Age, crafted as a mass-market corporate
enterprise.”
As an illustrated novel with obtrusive pictures that Mark Twain selected
and critiqued, “Huckleberry Finn” also plays with the fundamentals
of storytelling. “With each new chapter, the reader negotiates
an intervention by the artist, the compositor, the publisher, and implicitly
also Mark Twain, rather than Huck. Each of these pictures asserts a
parsing of Huck’s memoir by others, and each picture signals
a way to imagine settings and characters even before Huck begins to
describe them.”
Clemens also was a genius in the craft of media celebrity. When he invented
Twain, he transformed his alter ego into “a brand and a trademark,”
which he would use to become “the first American master of the
international public image.”
But despite all the energy and the brilliance, neither the creator
nor his avatar was faultless. “Clemens was notoriously jealous
of his own intellectual and artistic property and careless about the
rights of others. Dedicated at times to his art, he also churned out
potboilers and collaborations and spin-offs, authorized package deals,
tie-in sales, and mediocre stage productions based on his best sellers.
“He was a source of misery for nearly every partner and subordinate
who worked with him directly. Unpredictable in his moods and his politics,
he held fast to his rank as a front-page icon, complete with chemical
dependencies, notorious friends, financial disasters, and toward the
end a disturbing interest in populating his private house with other
people’s little girls.”
Michelson concedes that his subject is “a messy writer, often
contradictory and exasperating to work with,” but Michelson said
he’ll never abandon him.
“Mark Twain is a touchstone in any serious conversation about
American cultural history and values,” Michelson said.
But can the 19th-century writer remain relevant today as people struggle
to come to terms with emerging technologies?
“We’re in a moment,” Michelson observes, “when
we have to wonder seriously about the continued importance of imaginative
literature – of any text that is older than the latest YouTube
video.”
Yet for precisely that reason, Mark Twain, so fervent and thoughtful
about the new media, continues to track well among digitally driven
youth. “You don’t have to push him on students,” Michelson
said. “He is thriving without the life-support of English professors.
For a scholar and a teacher, that’s a very happy situation.”