Naturalism’s Histories

In an October 1928 letter to Marianne Von Schön, who had translated several of Dreiser’s novels for the German publisher Paul Zsolnay, Theodore Dreiser revealed his feelings about the role that literary naturalism and he as one of its practitioners would play in American literary history. Dreiser sent Von Schön a copy of A Book About Myself, indicating that it was the second volume (Dawn being the first) in his projected larger series of four or five books to be titled “A History of Myself.” In his letter to Von Schön, Dreiser described the series as “a running history of myself and the America that I knew during the period covered” (136). He claimed, somewhat optimistically, that the third volume of his planned series would detail the “conclusion of the puritanical regime in American letters,” while the fourth volume would “cover the break in literature as represented by the realistic school” (136). In his letter to Von Schön, Dreiser requested that the series, which he never completed, be released as a set in Germany (in contrast to the separate publication of the two early volumes in the U.S.), an approach he believed would emphasize the “completeness and significance” of the series (136) and, perhaps implicitly, the importance of the naturalist movement and of his own contributions to it. Dreiser’s sense of personal and literary history as revealed in this letter suggests his belief in the critical and aesthetic importance of his work to U. S. literature, echoing the opinion of critics such as H. L. Mencken, who in a November 1911 Smart Set review had deemed Jennie Gerhardt to be the most important American novel to date (excepting Huckleberry Finn) (153). Moreover, his letter countered the view of those who did not ascribe the same significance to his life’s work and activities, one of the most well-rehearsed examples being Stuart P. Sherman, who, reviewing Dreiser’s work up to 1915, famously claimed that Dreiser’s “crude . . . naturalistic philosophy” had “reduce[d] the problem of the novelist to the lowest possible terms” (649).

Other naturalist writers also considered the place that they and their work might occupy in literary history. Some, like Frank Norris, did so glibly, as in a postscript to a December 1901 letter to Frank Gelett Burgess: “Dont this look like the kind of letter a real live literary man would write[.] The kind they reproduce in the autobiographies[?]” (84). While the postscript appears to be meant as a joke, it also belies an interest in the process by which writers are remembered and the sort of autobiographical texts that writers leave behind to insure that they and their works are not lost to history. Stephen Crane demonstrated similar sentiments when he sent a copy of The Black Riders to the Paris reviewer, Henri D. Davray. Crane noted in a November 1897 letter to Davray his “dearest wish . . . to see these simples translated into French” in the hope that the book would be better received in France than it had been in England or the United States (150). Crane explained to Davray that he desired “the distinction of appearing just for a moment to the minds of a few of your great and wise artistic public,” and again, near the end of the letter, he reiterated “[w]hat I wish is the distinction” (151). As is revealed in Crane’s other letters written around the same time, he could have used the income that a translated volume might bring, and thus his flattery of France’s “great and wise” public might seem an attempt to insure publication, but by expressing the desire that he and his work attain a certain distinction abroad he also suggests his interest in the processes through which one’s work is brought to the attention of, makes a lasting impression on, and is remembered by the public.

When we consider naturalism’s histories, we are reminded of episodes such as those recounted above in which writers express interest in how they might be remembered in the annals of literary history. Even though Dreiser implies in...