The Letters of Mark Twain and Joseph Hopkins Twichell ed. by Harold K. Bush, Steve Courtney, Peter Messent (review)

One of the most poignant moments in Adventures of Huckleberry Finn occurs in Chapter 31. Huck races back to the raft and discovers that Jim is no longer there: “I set up a shout—and then another—and then another one; and run this way and that in the woods, whooping and screeching; but it warn’t no use—old Jim was gone.” Twain captures a primal fear in all of Huck’s “whooping and screeching,” the sound of abandonment voiced by a lost child. And after all the epithets that have swirled around Jim for most of the novel, from the insulting to the obscuring, he is no longer identified by race or caste. In the sobriquet “old Jim,” we hear Huck’s yearning and the affectionate familiarity that has grown between the two characters.

Repeatedly in The Letters of Mark Twain and Joseph Hopkins Twichell, edited by Harold K. Bush, Steve Courtney, and Peter Messent, “Old Joe” and “Old Mark” address each other with all the intensity, need, and joy that characterize the friendships of Twain’s fictional boys. Twain met Twichell in 1868, which began both their friendship and their forty-two-year correspondence. In the 310 letters gathered here, the complete extant collection, Twain and Twichell share not only the mundane events of their lives—the bills, the children’s illnesses, the dinners and houseguests, the books read and written, the lectures given and attended—they also explore their philosophies of life and art and God, the love and worry they feel for their families, and the nature of their own friendship. The differences between the two men (Twain the former Confederate, religious skeptic, humorist, and celebrity; Twichell the Union chaplain, Yale graduate, and quiet man of faith) are often obscured by their shared values. Both loved to talk and laugh, travel and entertain; both loved their families, their cigars, and their leisure; and both enjoyed the private pleasure as well as the public display of their friendship.

While the relationship that emerges in these letters is clearly ideal, it’s not idyllic. As Peter Messent explains in the supplementary text, Twain mines his friendship with Twichell for the social standing it confers on him, just as he uses Twichell as a foil and muse in his fictional work. Twichell, on the other hand, enjoys the glow of Twain’s celebrity just as he benefits from it materially—in gifts of travel, connections, and cash. Yet, in one of many surprises made manifest in these letters, Twain and Twichell both acknowledge that they will, on occasion, use each other as rungs on their respective ladders. And this is another surprise, as performative and playful as these letters are—the editors quite rightly point to Twichell’s own talents as a writer—they are also often unvarnished, stunningly self-conscious and honest. What transcends any utilitarian aspects of their friendship is the obvious affection—they often describe it as love—that Twain and Twichell consistently express for each other. The one falling out in their decades-long relationship occurs in 1883 when Twichell gives to the Hartford Courant part of a letter in which Twain describes his “history game.” Twain becomes, characteristically, enraged and indignant, but Twichell refuses to engage or credit Twain’s wrath. Twain, uncharacteristically, relents and forgives. More than their many endearments, this may be the greatest testimonial to the power of their friendship.

The editors have drawn on the resources of the Mark Twain Papers as well as those of Yale’s Beinecke Library to produce this volume, and the result is a scholarly text that is also wonderfully readable and accessible. Framing this edition, though not directly informing it, is the previous work of these talented scholars. Twichell’s letters invite a more extensive study of his life, which Steve Courtney provides in Joseph Hopkins...