Mapping the Terrain of the Written Word
A couple of months back, I was asked to participate in a
panel discussion about Literary Landmarks* that comprised the better part of a
weekly radio show, Radio Boston,
which airs on Fridays on WBUR-Boston (90.9 FM). I was pleased to accept the invitation because I have been
involved with an emerging literary land-marking project for several years at
the Mass Center for the Book and I
thought this would be a great way to get the word out about the project.
The host of Radio
Boston, David Boeri, was inspired to do the show after hearing about the
financial difficulties at "The Mount,"
Edith Wharton's estate in Lenox, and a good deal of the discussion focused on
that particular house, though we were able to spend some time talking about Longfellow's house in Cambridge and Herman Melvilles in Pittsfield as well as a
handful
of other memorial rather than museum sites.
It was a good discussion, but I came away from the show
with a nagging feeling that there was an underlying question or--maybe better--skepticism about literary landmarks that
had been left unaddressed. As Susan
Wilson, Matthew Pearl and I spoke about the value of literary land-marking,
about the importance of preserving a geographical dimension to reading
experience, Boeri came as close as he would to giving voice to what I presume
was his doubt. He asked how far we
should go, how much we should do to preserve literary landmarks. Susan's reply was unhesitating and
unequivocal: We should do as much as we
have to.
Of course, David had three book nerds on the panel--Susan
is the author of The Literary
Trail of Greater Boston, Matthew's first two novels, The Dante Club and Poe's Shadow, are
literary-historical fictions, and I, as you know, direct the Massachusetts
Center for the Book. All of us felt
that Susan was spot on with her remark.
Nevertheless, I could almost feel David thinking, "Come on . . . are these sites really all that important?"
It's possible I was reading into his reactions the response I have come
to expect . . . a broad-based assumption that we are talking about the icing rather
than the cake, about what's nice rather than what's necessary. But I know there is a viable argument to
make that literary sites, literary figures, and literary products are as
important to the formation of nationhood as is political and/or military
history.
We used to know that.
Indeed we even legislated the foundational importance of literature in
our state constitution. Chapter V,
Section II, reads, in part,
Wisdom, and knowledge, as well as virtue, diffused generally among the body of the people, being necessary for the preservation of their rights and liberties . . . it shall be the duty of legislatures and magistrates, in all future periods of this commonwealth, to cherish the interests of literature and the sciences . . . .
from The
Massachusetts Constitution: Chapter V, Section II. The Encouragement of Literature,
etc.
Our commonwealth, indeed our country, was founded on
enlightened principles that recognized the vital importance of activity beyond
the quotidian. We seem, however, over
the course of time and under the burdens of tight budgets to have devolved into
a utilitarianism that may have us worry about diffusing a "knowledge"--the
use-value of which can be measured easily-- but that leads us to a systemic
wariness about activity in service of achieving those other ideals--of wisdom
and of virtue--which are, to use the coin of our achievement realm, "less
testable."
Literature has become, in our time, an amusing pastime
rather than an essential and cohesive force in the project of America. We have elevated our political history to
memorial
status--but have treated with suspicion a complementary elevation of
our literary history. What our generals
have done, in other words, speaks of our American identity, but what our
writers have said is tangential to it.
We would never question the drive to keep Mt. Vernon open to the public,
but we are just not all that sure we need to contribute to a similar effort for
"The Mount."
I'd like to think that we can stop that train of thought
and prejudice and move in a direction that brings us back to an understanding
of the centrality of the written word in the formation of our national identity
and to an appreciation for the works of our great authors as important
contributions to the ties that bind us together as a country.
We have a great opportunity to do that in Massachusetts--where
we have 16 literary houses open to the public, numerous museums and special
libraries devoted to the art and culture of books, and many literary memorial
sites easily accessible to the cultural traveler. You can visit many of these heritage sites with the first edition
of the Literary Map of Massachusetts as
your guide. Created by an editorial
board at the Massachusetts Center for the Book and funded with a grant from Mass Humanities, this map is a great
beginning, and we are happy to provide you with copies for a modest shipping
and handling fee if you contact our office [literarymap@massbook.org].
Many more literary sites can be added to the inventory,
and Mass Center for the Book will gladly partner with community organizations
to establish new literary landmarks. We have just partnered with Historic Northampton to
establish a landmark for Gehenna
Press, one of the most important private presses of the 20th
century operating in the world. The marker will be part of Historic
Northamptons historical sites project and will have its formal unveiling on
November 12th at a ceremony in Florence. You'll be able to read the literary land-marker at 51 Clark
Avenue in Northampton soon thereafter.
*
To access the radio show from the WBUR archives, visit www.radioboston.org and
search for "Literary Landmarks."