Figures of the World: The Naturalist Novel and Transnational Form by Christopher Laing Hill

Zola’s effect on American and Japanese literature

If you read this blog religiously (which I’m sure no one does), you’ll know that one brand of fiction that Old Books by Dead Guys really likes is Naturalism. I started this blog by reviewing the complete works of Emile Zola, Frank Norris, and Jack London, all of them naturalist writers. The naturalist movement, spearheaded by Zola, was an offshoot of realism. It’s known for hyper-detailed and brutally objective descriptions of settings and social milieus. Naturalist authors often have an atheistic bent; they emphasize how human lives are influenced and governed by scientific laws of evolution and heredity, physiology, sociology, and psychology. I’m a well-read fan of French and American literary naturalism and have started to branch out into the naturalist literature of other nations. Wanting to learn more about naturalist authors in other parts of the world led me to Christopher Laing Hill’s 2020 book Figures of the World: The Naturalist Novel and Transnational Form. This book, published by Northwestern University Press, is available as an open access publication, meaning you can download a pdf ebook for free (or you can purchase a print copy).

What I was hoping to get out of Hill’s book was an international list of authors and books for further reading, and I certainly got that. Some of those books may have never been translated into English, but if even a quarter of them are, they ought to keep me busy reading for years. Hill focuses primarily on French, American, and Japanese literature because he reads in those languages. The bulk of the book is comparing novels from those nations to show how Zola’s ideas spread from country to country. His detailed examination of works by Zola, London, Norris, Theodore Dreiser, Kosugi Tengai, and Tayama Katai brings up many interesting and thought-provoking points. Like most literary critics, Hill gives away the endings of all the novels he discusses, but I’ve already read all the French and American books, and it’s unlikely I’ll ever read the Japanese. In addition, Hill does mention and briefly discuss many other works from other countries. He gives particularly good overviews of Spanish and Latin American naturalism and East Asian naturalism. Hill says almost nothing about British and German literature, but he does reference plenty of naturalist authors from other European nations such as Denmark, Greece, and Slovenia. 

Having an avid interest in this subject, I naturally liked much of what Hill had to say. As a nonacademic, however, I can’t say I like the way he says it. Hill is a PhD writing for other PhDs, and the text is the jargon-heavy academic prose you’d expect for an audience of specialized professors. It drives me nuts how many words are used to make a point, how many times the points are made over and over again, and the pretentious, obscure vocabulary (ugh, the title). The word “figure” is used over 400 times to mean just about anything and everything. There are chapters on “the body figure” (anatomical imagery), “the Nana figure” (sexually liberated and/or independent women), and “the social figure” (just about any time and place, as far as I can tell). When Hill comments on the work of other Zola scholars, he points out exceptions to any proffered thesis as if to nullify its value. He then seems hesitant to say anything concrete himself for fear that his arguments will be likewise picked apart. Every statement has to be made with heterogenous multiplicity, so that nothing can ever be nailed down as fact, theory, or even an explicit opinion. 

Naturalist literature can be enjoyed and appreciated by nonacademic readers, not just the intelligentsia within academia. As intended by the author, this scholarly monograph only addresses the latter category. For the nonacademic audience, if nothing else, the bibliography and the index suggest myriad opportunities for further reading. With this blog I try to turn a few readers on to some readworthy naturalist literature, and hopefully the knowledge I’ve gleaned from Figures of the World will help me do that.

Literature of the “Soil”

Agrarian epics from around the world
As an enthusiast of classic literature, Old Books by Dead Guys loves to review epic novels. Just because a story is epic, however, doesn’t mean it has to be set in ancient Rome, a war-torn battlefield, or outer space. Some of the best epics take place right at home on the farm. In these “peasant” epics, hard-working multigenerational families carve a living from the soil while contending with poverty, family conflicts, and the unforgiving elements. Such books often bear a strident message of social justice, the dignity of labor, and in some cases perhaps even hints of socialist revolution. Every nation’s literature has got to have at least one great agrarian epic. Realist writers of all nations have captured the heroic drama in the daily life of their homeland’s agriculturalists. Today at Old Books by Dead Guys, we celebrate the literature of “earth,” “soil,” and “dust,” listed below in chronological order. Click on the titles below to read the full reviews.

  

Sons of the Soil (Les Paysans, 1855) by Honoré de Balzac (France) - 3.5 stars
This is Balzac’s final novel, also known as Les Paysans or The Peasantry. The story takes place in the Burgundy region of France and focuses on the antagonism between a land-owning count and the peasants of his district. Rather than glamorizing farming life, Balzac approaches the story from an aristocratic perspective that makes the poor farmers the villains of the story. The plot is like a comical chess game in which the peasants try everything they can think of to rob, cheat, or swindle their landlord. Not exactly the message one usually looks for in an agrarian epic, but it does make for one entertaining novel.

Virgin Soil (1877) by Ivan Turgenev (Russia) - 4 stars
Virgin Soil is Russian realist Ivan Turgenev’s final novel. This is not really a peasant epic, but it does deal with agricultural life. The narrative takes place in the 1860s, at a time when a populist movement was gaining influence in Russia. Urban middle-class intellectuals venture out into the farmlands to preach socialist ideas to workers and the rural poor, hoping to inspire a revolution against the feudal system maintained by the Tsarist government. Like Balzac above, however, Turgenev’s depiction of these revolutionaries is quite unflattering and satirical. Though the main focus of the novel may be political, it does provide a vivid depiction of rural life in Russia.

The Earth (La Terre, 1887) by Emile Zola (France) - 5 stars
The official opinion of Old Books by Dead Guys is that Emile Zola is the world’s greatest novelist, and this is his second greatest novel, after Germinal. The Earth takes place in the Beauce, an agricultural region between Chartres and Orleans, where families have cultivated the same plots of land for generations. When one of these veteran farmers, Old Fouan, feels himself ready for retirement, he divides up his holdings among his three children. Not one of them, however, is happy with the portion he receives, which leads to animosity and treachery. Zola’s depiction of farm life is gritty and unglamorized. He captures both the dirty, exhausting toil and the spiritual satisfaction of agriculture in a range of moods from the terrifying to the hilarious. A masterpiece.

Emanuel, or Children of the Soil (1896) by Hendrik Pontoppidan (Denmark) - 4.5 stars
This is one of only a few works available in English by Pontoppidan, a Nobel Prize winner. The story takes place in rural Denmark in the late nineteenth century. As in Turgenev’s Virgin Soil, discussed above, the proliferation of liberal democratic ideals has begun to undermine the authority of the conservative aristocracy and the Church. A new young priest arrives in a seaside parish in rural Denmark. Rather than adopt the party line of his church, he sympathizes with the peasants and bears a romantic image of the farming life as a more honest and natural way of living. Such liberal ideals infuriate his superiors and threaten his career in the clergy. Through expert descriptive prose, Pontoppidan delivers an authentic slice of Danish rural life.

The Octopus (1901) by Frank Norris (California, USA) - 5 stars
Although it doesn’t have “Earth” or “Soil” in its title, The Octopus is one of America’s greatest agricultural epics. It concerns the lives of wheat farmers in Tulare County, California. Based on a real-life incident, the Mussel Slough Tragedy (1880), this novel tells the story of a violent conflict between the farmers of this community and an all-powerful railroad corporation (the “octopus” referenced in the title). In his portrayal of the rural landscape and agricultural life, Norris displays an extraordinary faculty for natural description and an exceptional talent for drawing gripping scenes of ordinary people faced with extraordinary circumstances. If you’re looking for the Great American Novel, this is it. 

The Peasants (four volumes, 1904-1909) by Wladyslaw Reymont (Poland) - 5 stars
This lesser-known Polish novel just might be the gold standard by which all peasant epics must be measured. The Peasants (Polish title: Chlopi) was published in four volumes, one for each of the seasons of the year: Autumn, Winter, Spring, and Summer must be read in order. Over the course of that fictional year, the reader becomes intimately involved in the lives and loves of the residents of the rural town of Lipka. The children of the village’s most prosperous farmer, Mathias Boryna, want him to step down and divide his land among his descendants, but he scoffs at them by marrying a young bride, thus inciting family conflict. Similar in style and subject matter to Zola’s The Earth (see above)—it’s a toss-up as to which of these two epics is the greater work of literature.

Growth of the Soil (1917) by Knut Hamsun (Norway) - 5 stars
This is a masterful peasant epic from Nobel laureate Hamsun. A solitary figure, heavily laden with supplies, trudges into the Norwegian wilds, a day’s walk from the nearest village. He selects a plot of land, cuts the timber, and begins turning the soil. One day a woman comes. Together as man and wife they carve out a living from the earth and build a home, a farm, and a family around which a community forms. Bad influences from the city, however, threaten the peace of their agrarian life. This novel is a truly powerful and moving reading experience.

Dust (1921) by Marcet and Emanuel Haldeman-Julius (Kansas, USA) - 5 stars
Written by Mr. and Mrs. Haldeman-Julius, who ran America’s largest publisher of socialist literature from a little town in Southeastern Kansas. Dust is set in that very region and depicts agricultural life in hard-scrabble, unromantic terms. The novel’s primary concern, however, is a dysfunctional marriage between a husband who believes hard work, livestock, land, and profits are all that’s valuable in life and a wife who longs for love, happiness and beauty while condemned to a life of unrelenting toil. The setting may be reminiscent of Willa Cather, but the story bears the brutal naturalism of one of Frank Norris or Emile Zola’s darker works. A Kansas classic!

The Good Earth (1931) by Pearl S. Buck (USA, raised in China) - 5 stars
Pearl S. Buck, though born in America, was raised by missionary parents in China. Her second novel, The Good Earth, took the Western world by storm, for it was the first authentic literary peek behind the silk curtain of Chinese life. Wang Lung and his wife O-Lan start out as poor farmers in a mud-brick house, but through hard work, personal sacrifice, and a little luck, their family gradually rises from humble beginnings to a position of security and status. The story spans the first few decades of the early twentieth century, including scenes of the Chinese Revolution of 1911 that overthrew the Qing Dynasty. Though steeped in Chinese culture, The Good Earth transcends time and place with universal themes of love, family, pride, and greed. This is the first volume in a trilogy, followed by Sons and A House Divided.

Of course, you can’t really talk about peasant epics without mentioning John Steinbeck’s The Grapes of Wrath (1939). I have not read that book in the last eight years, so it hasn’t been reviewed at Old Books by Dead Guys. I do have a copy and hope to get to it in 2020.

False Alarms
Judging from their titles, these books might sound like agrarian epics, but in fact they are not:

Shallow Soil (1893) by Knut Hamsun (Norway) - 4.5 stars
Although this is a very good novel by Hamsun, it is not about “soil” or anything remotely agricultural. It is a story of modern urban life in late-nineteenth century Kristiania (present-day Oslo). I believe Hamsun uses the title Shallow Soil as a critical metaphor for the lack of national spirit necessary for Norway to develop into a great nation. (His opinion, not mine.)

Children of the Soil (1894) by Henryk Sienkiewicz (Poland) - 1 star
This is a terrible novel and again has very little to do with farming. Some of the characters do own agricultural lands, which peasants farm for them. This is a book about rich people’s problems, however, and a depressingly grueling examination of the institution of marriage.

The Native Soil (1957) by Alan E. Nourse (USA)
This is actually a science fiction novel about a planet made of mud. Definitely not a peasant epic.

Frank Norris Remembered, edited by Jesse S. Crisler and Joseph R. McElrath

As friends and family knew him
Frank Norris Remembered, published in 2013, is part of the American Writers Remembered series from the University of Alabama Press. Each volume in the series collects posthumous remembrances from friends, family, and professional colleagues of the deceased author to create a sort of oral history of their lives. Frank Norris was one of America’s greatest novelists at the dawn of the twentieth century, but his career as a professional writer only lasted about seven years. He died at the age of 32. The world hardly knew him, or what he was capable of, which makes a volume like this all the more valuable for understanding the author and his life.

This book is edited by Jesse S. Crisler and Joseph R. McElrath, the duo of literature professors who literally wrote the book on Norris’s life (Frank Norris: A Life, published in 2006). Here they demonstrate the same exhaustive thoroughness and meticulous attention to detail that they brought to that authoritative biography. Crisler and McElrath provide introductions and extensive notes to accompany each of the remembrances reprinted here. In all, fifty different individuals offer their personal memories of Norris, including Norris’s wife, his college fraternity brothers, and the editors and publishers with whom he worked. Outside the area of Frank Norris studies, the only readily recognizable names among this assortment of Norris intimates are like-minded authors Hamlin Garland and William Dean Howells. The writings take various forms, including published eulogies, personal letters of condolence to the widow Norris, introductions to posthumous editions of Norris works, and interview notes taken by early biographers of Norris. The latter category, being choppy and haphazard in nature, are the least satisfying to read, but perhaps the most valuable inclusions because of their never having been previously published. In gathering together and reproducing documents from various archives around the country, this book serves as a valuable tool for Norris researchers, and the context provided by Crisler and McElrath’s contributions adds to that value considerably.

Not surprisingly, this is a book more for researchers than for readers, as the testimonies can get quite repetitive. Many of the same points are reiterated in several reminiscences, but the varying perspectives help to clarify and corroborate the details of Norris’s life and career. As one would expect, the text contains plenty of praise for the dead, whether for his literary prowess, his physical attractiveness, or his noble character. Such eulogizing goes beyond mere flattery, however, and often provides great insight into Norris’s personality and demeanor, which is what one would hope to get from a book like this. Only one of the interviewees, Bertha Rickoff, really didn’t care for Norris at all, and her contrarian opinion proves to be one of the collection’s most interesting entries.

Frank Norris Remembered is aimed at literary scholars, but an avid layman like myself can find much of interest here as well. As far as general readers go, this is only for diehard Norris fans. Those who haven’t already read Frank Norris: A Life should do so first, and if you still want to know more about this great American author, then Frank Norris Remembered makes a fine companion volume.
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Frank Norris: A Descriptive Bibliography by Joseph R. McElrath Jr.

A treasure trove for Norris completists
Frank Norris is one of my favorite writers. I’d like to think that I’ve read his complete works, but that’s a tough accomplishment to claim. Norris is best known as a novelist, and when he died at age 32 he had only completed seven novels, one of which (Vandover and the Brute) was published posthumously. Two volumes of short stories, A Deal in Wheat and The Third Circle, were also published shortly after his death, as well as a collection of literary criticism and essays entitled The Responsibilities of the Novelist. In his brief career as a man of letters, however, Norris published literally hundreds of articles, short stories, essays, poems, and plays, scattered among publications like The Overland Monthly, The San Francisco Wave, and American Art and Literary Review. In his 1992 book Frank Norris: A Descriptive Bibliography, noted Norris scholar Joseph R. McElrath Jr. makes sense of Norris’s extensive and diverse body of work.

Prior to this book, the most authoritative bibliography of Norris was probably Kenneth A. Lohf and Eugene P. Sheehy’s Frank Norris: A Bibliography from 1959, which only ran about 100 pages. McElrath’s book, about thrice as long, goes into far greater detail and compiles a much more extensive list of Norris’s works. For the novels, McElrath not only provides the history of each edition but also gives physical descriptions of the books themselves, an invaluable resource for book collectors. McElrath then enumerates the first appearances in various publications of over 300 articles, stories, and other short pieces by Norris. The book also includes a list of over 500 articles that have previously been erroneously attributed to Norris. Finally, in a brief section on works about Norris, McElrath does not attempt a comprehensive list, but only highlights the “principal works” in the field. The exhaustive detail of McElrath’s research is staggering; the book could serve as a model of how bibliographic research should be conducted and presented.

This book was published by the University of Pittsburgh Press as part of their Pittsburgh Series in Bibliography. As far as I can tell, that series has been discontinued and all its volumes are out of print. This sort of detailed bibliographic research used to be a major component of literary scholarship. Look in any university library and you’ll find an entire section—the Z call letters—devoted to it. It seems this sort of research has fallen by the wayside in recent years, however, partly because scholars are more concerned with psychoanalyzing their literary subjects and partly because people just expect to find this sort of information on the Internet. To assume the latter would be a mistake. This type of detailed publication history is a major undertaking, one that only a scholar of McElrath’s caliber can pull off. This book is a valuable, authoritative reference for literary scholars and book collectors, and an interesting and educational volume for avid readers like myself to browse through. Because the conventions of bibliographic notation use a lot of abbreviations, it’s not always the most accessible text. Sometimes it appears as if the entries were written in code, and some knowledge of book manufacturing is required (I work for a publisher). The only fault that I can really find with the book, however, is that it was published back in 1992, so it doesn’t include more recent scholarship like McElrath’s own two-volume The Apprenticeship Writings of Frank Norris, or the biography he cowrote with Jesse S. Crisler, Frank Norris: A Life. Even after twenty-five years, however, this is still the most complete bibliography of Norris’s literary career ever published.
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Frank Norris, 1870–1902 by Charles Gilman Norris

A brother’s eulogy

Frank Norris

Prior to his untimely death at the age of 32, Frank Norris was hailed by some critics as one of America’s greatest novelists. Old Books by Dead Guys has already reviewed Norris’s complete works, but there are still a few pieces of Norrisiana out there that fans of this great author might find interesting, such as this booklet published by Doubleday circa 1914.

Norris’s brother Charles Gilman Norris was a successful novelist in his own right. Charles is best known for the novel Salt, which was highly praised by no less than F. Scott Fitzgerald. As stated on the first page of this booklet of roughly 30 pages, here Charles provides, “An intimate sketch of the man who was universally acclaimed the greatest American writer of his generation.” In addition to eulogizing his brother, Charles’s purpose for publishing this booklet was likely to draw attention to the posthumous publication in 1914 of Frank’s previously lost novel Vandover and the Brute. 

In this brief biographical sketch, Charles doesn’t just restate Frank’s literary accomplishments. He also provides personal recollections from the brothers’ youth. Those who know Frank as the king of American naturalism might be surprised at the extent to which he was once obsessed with Sir Walter Scott’s brand of medieval adventure. Charles shares fond memories of the two playing with lead soldiers. The younger Charles would marvel at the characters and stories his older brother Frank would construct with the tiny figures. Just as kids of my generation might have drawn superhero comics to share with each other, Frank would write out entire novels about knights and chivalry and give them to his brother to read.

Some interesting details on the writing of Frank’s published novels, in particular McTeague and The Octopus, are also revealed. In addition, Charles mentions a proposed trilogy on the battle of Gettysburg that Frank planned to write but never started. Little known details such as these make this booklet worth reading for Frank Norris fans, even though Charles’s essay is only 13 pages long. The narrative is interspersed with photographs, most of them dark and murky with age, and one drawing by Frank, who considered a career in art before turning to literature. The book closes with an admirably complete 10-page bibliography of Frank’s work, which includes all of his newspaper articles and short stories, almost all of which can be found in the two-volume collection The Apprenticeship Writings of Frank Norris, 1896-1898, edited by Joseph R. McElrath Jr. and Douglas K. Burgess.

If you want to read a complete biography of Frank Norris, turn to the comprehensive account Frank Norris: A Life by McElrath and Jesse S. Crisler. Even if you are well-versed in Frank’s life, or you just want the brief synopsis, this short work is worth a download from HathiTrust, or maybe a trip to your local university library. If you find this booklet useful, McElrath and Crisler have edited an entire volume of remembrances such as these, entitled Frank Norris Remembered, which will surely provide deeper insight into Norris’s life and work. 

Frank Norris: An Overview

The King of American Naturalism

Frank Norris. Photo by Arnold Genthe

Today, March 5th, is the birthday of Frank Norris (1870-1902), one of the greatest American novelists at the turn of the last century. His brilliant career was sadly cut short by a fatal case of appendicitis at the age of 32, but in his all-too-brief tenure as a man of letters, Norris was able to produce seven quality novels and a numerous and wide assortment of short stories, essays, and journalistic nonfiction.

Norris was born in Chicago, studied art in Paris, and attended Harvard University, but he lived most of his adult life in San Francisco, and almost all of his fiction is set in California. In his formative years as a writer, he worked as a war correspondent in South Africa and Cuba, published short stories in periodicals like The Overland Monthly and Everybody’s Magazine, and served as editor and staff writer for The San Francisco Wave. His earliest works exhibit the influence of Sir Walter Scott, Robert Louis Stevenson, Bret Harte, and William Dean Howells, but by the time he got around to writing novels he had already developed a mature style based largely on the literary Naturalism of French writer Emile Zola. 

Naturalism was a literary movement that sprang out of the scientific developments of the 19th century, most notably Darwin’s theory of evolution. While Romantic literature often depicted a hero as master of his own destiny, the protagonist of the Naturalist novel is often the victim and product of exterior natural forces. His character and behavior are molded by heredity, environment, and social conditions. Naturalist writers use detailed descriptive prose to create a vividly realistic setting, then populate this world with characters that are ostensibly guinea pigs in an experiment, acting out the scientific and philosophical concepts the author wishes to explore. Naturalism, as exemplified by the works of Zola and Norris, occupies a sort of middle ground between Romanticism and Realism. While a Naturalist novel often depicts people and places that are remarkably true-to-life, the plot often features extraordinary events happening to ordinary people. Naturalist writers were frequently chastised by critics for being too brutally realistic and focusing on the grittier, uglier, baser sides of humanity’s existence. Thus when critics bestowed upon Norris the nickname of “the American Zola,” it was probably meant to be just as much an insult as a compliment.

So far no one has put together an e-book file of Norris’s complete works. All of his novels are in the public domain and can be downloaded for free from Amazon and Project Gutenberg. The short stories, essays, and such are harder to find, but most are available either at Google Books or Open Library. Another good source is the Frank Norris page at the web site of The William Dean Howells Society. I’ve read and reviewed everything available ever written by Norris—enough to say that I’ve tackled his “complete works,” though in truth there’s probably a handful of uncollected short stories out there that I’ve missed. Below is a list of books by or about Norris that have been featured at Old Books by Dead Guys. Click on the title of any book to read its complete review.

Novels

Vandover and the Brute (written 1894, published 1914)
Written while Norris was in college, this novel chronicles a young man’s gradual descent into a life of vice. Intended as a gritty portrayal of the effects of alcohol, sex, and gambling, today’s audience may find it a bit tame. Nevertheless, it’s an auspicious debut effort. (3.5 stars)

Moran of the Lady Letty (1898)
A wealthy young gentleman of San Francisco is shanghaied into service aboard a shark-fishing vessel and meets up with a lady pirate. Although the subject matter has the absurdity of pulp fiction, Norris treats the tale with vivid realism. (4 stars)

McTeague (1899)
Many critics consider this to be Norris’s greatest work (though for me, that would be The Octopus). The title character is a simple-minded dentist with a practice in a lower-middle-class neighborhood in San Francisco. This novel is a startling examination of the poisonous effects of greed on the human psyche. (4.5 stars)

Blix (1899)
A light-hearted romance about two young people falling in love in San Francisco. Despite the fluffy subject matter, Norris approaches the story from his trademark Naturalist perspective. It’s not profound or earth-shattering, but good for what it is. (4 stars)

A Man’s Woman (1900)
This is Norris’s worst novel, but still not terrible. It details the troubled romance between two strong-willed and career-driven individuals: a polar explorer and a nurse. The first two chapters are absolutely excellent, and well worth reading on their own. (2.5 stars)

The Octopus (1901)
Wheat farmers in California are driven to desperate measures when a railroad attempts to steal their land. This is Norris’s greatest work—a masterpiece of American literature that should be read by all. (5 stars)

The Pit (1903)
A sequel of sorts to The Octopus, Norris’s final novel focuses on the world of wheat trading in the Chicago Board of Trade. When one trader tries to corner the market in wheat, the lives of an ensemble cast of characters are altered irrevocably. (4 stars)

Poetry

Yvernelle (1892)
Norris’s first published book was not a novel, but this tale of medieval chivalry, heavily influenced by Sir Walter Scott, which is written entirely in verse. It’s like nothing else he ever wrote. (2 stars)

Short Stories, Essays, and Journalism (most collections published posthumously)

Writings for The Overland Monthly (1892-1894)
Not a book, but a category. The eight stories Norris published in this San Francisco literary magazine are all available online for free. This includes “Lauth,” perhaps his best short story ever, and the “Outward and Visible Signs” series. (4 stars)

A Deal in Wheat and Other Stories of the New and Old West (1903)
This is probably Norris’s best-known collection of short stories, but it’s basically just an assortment of mediocre adventure tales, similar to those of Jack London but not as good. “Two Hearts that Beat as One” and “The Passing of Cock-Eye Blacklock” are pretty good. (3 stars)

The Responsibilities of the Novelist (1903)

25 essays in which Norris expresses his views on literature and the art of writing. Within these essays he defines his conception of Naturalism. (4 stars)

The Third Circle (1909)
A great collection of short stories from his early days, covering a wide variety of settings and subject matter. Among the best are “A Reversion to Type,” “A Caged Lion,” “The Guest of Honour,” and the title piece. (4.5 stars)

The Surrender of Santiago (1917)
This odd little publication contains just one article Norris wrote about the Spanish-American War. It was republished as a booklet during World War I to inspire patriotic feeling. (3 stars)

The Apprenticeship Writings of Frank Norris, 1896-1898, Volume 1 (1996)
A wide variety of short fiction and nonfiction from his days as a staff writer for the weekly periodical the San Francisco Wave. Mostly nonfiction, including a lot of football reporting. Among the fiction included here, the “Man Proposes” series is the best. (4 stars)

The Apprenticeship Writings of Frank Norris, 1896-1898, Volume 2 (1996)
More from Norris’s days at the San Francisco Wave. There’s more fiction in the second volume. Among the best pieces here are “Miracle Joyeux,” “Perverted Tales,” “Fantaisie Printanière,” and “The Drowned Who Do Not Die.” (4 stars)

Collections

Norris: Novels and Essays (Library of America) (1986)
Includes Vandover and the Brute, McTeague, The Octopus, and 22 well-selected essays. (5 stars)

Biography

Frank Norris: A Life by Joseph R. McElrath and Jesse S. Crisler (2006)
An in-depth biography of Norris and a critical examination of his works. This book will tell you everything you wanted to know about Norris and more. It does give away the endings of his books, so only diehard fans should read it. (4 stars)

The Pit by Frank Norris

Can’t stop the wheat
The Pit is the final novel by Frank Norris, one of America’s most promising novelists of the early 20th century. It was published in 1903, shortly after his untimely death at the age of 32. The novel revolves around events at the Chicago Board of Trade, and the title refers to the area of the trading floor where wheat is bought and sold. The Pit is the second novel in a planned trilogy known as The Epic of the Wheat that was cut short by Norris’s demise. The first volume of that trilogy was his 1901 masterpiece The Octopus, but no knowledge of that prior book is required to understand or enjoy The Pit.

Following the death of her parents, Laura Dearborn moves from a conservative town in Massachusetts to live in Chicago with her sister and widowed aunt. Within a few months of her arrival, she has already attracted the attention of three suitors. Sheldon Corthell is an artist with the cultured tastes and refined manner of a smooth operator. Landry Court, a stockbroker’s clerk, harbors an intense, boyish infatuation with Laura and places her upon a proverbial pedestal. Curtis Jadwin, a real estate investor and self-made man of wealth, is a bit of a mystery man. While his maturity and self-reliance distinguishes him from the gushing Landry, he lacks the elegant social graces of Corthell. Despite all the attention from these three eligible bachelors, Laura asserts her independence and vows to fly solo. Regardless, the lives of all these characters are soon caught up either directly or indirectly in the financial machinations of wheat trading. As fortunes rise and fall, their lives are all irrevocably changed by the relentless maelstrom of wheat and money.

The more you know about stock trading, the more you will enjoy this book. Norris offers little assistance and simply expects his reader to know the ins and outs of bulls and bears, selling short, margin calls, and the like. Even readers who get lost in the financial details, however, can nonetheless enjoy the excitement with which Norris portrays the proceedings. In a manner highly evocative of Emile Zola—a writer he very much tried to emulate—Norris vividly emphasizes how the dealings on the floor of the Board of Trade reverberate throughout the world, effecting the lives and livelihoods of millions. The supply of and demand for wheat is a force of nature, a raging river of grain that sweeps up all who become involved with it. In keeping with Zola’s naturalistic style, the characters fates are largely determined by nature and nurture, but in Norris’s novel each is given the opportunity to wrestle their fate through the exercise of free will.

The Pit is one of Norris’s better books, though not quite as good as The Octopus or McTeague. Once the reader becomes aware of the big deal upon which the book centers, the arc of the plot becomes somewhat predictable, but Norris fleshes the story out with so many moving and memorable details that he has no problem sustaining the reader’s interest. At times he ventures a little into soap opera territory, particularly with the romantic elements. Laura is a beautiful and independent woman, yet self-absorbed and prone to high and mighty histrionics. At times the reader can’t decide whether to pity or despise her. Yet though she may be a drama queen, Norris does portray her as a realistic human being. As is typical of his mature naturalistic style, the world that Norris creates is unflinchingly true-to-life and an accurate reflection of the society of his time.

The Pit is now in the public domain, so you can download it for free from Amazon or Project Gutenberg. For those who prefer a paper edition, however, the Penguin Classics paperback has a very good introductory essay by Joseph R. McElrath, Jr. and extensive notes that helpfully illuminate many of the cultural references contained in the book.
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The Surrender of Santiago by Frank Norris

The nascent novelist as war correspondent
Before achieving renown as one of America’s best novelists of the early 20th century, Frank Norris began his writing career as a journalist. He was sent to Cuba by McClure’s magazine as a war correspondent during the Spanish-American War. “The Surrender of Santiago” is a piece he wrote at that time, though it never saw publication during his lifetime. In 1917 it was resurrected and published in the form of a booklet, which explains why this very brief piece is now sold on Amazon as an individual ebook file. The article is a little over twenty pages long and amounts to about fifteen or twenty minutes of reading.

This is not a battle story, for at the opening of the piece the battle has already ended. Rather, the article presents Norris’s eyewitness view of the ceremony of July 17, 1898, at which the Cubans surrendered to the American military, thus ending the war in Cuba. As one expects of Norris, it contains beautiful passages of descriptive prose that capture the scene in all its vivid and gritty glory. Atypical of Norris, however, is the overwhelmingly gung ho patriotic rhetoric. There is a particularly fervent passage of Anglo-Saxon chest thumping in which he proclaims it was the racial destiny of the (white) Americans to conquer the Cubans. Such jingoism was common in the days of “Remember the Maine!” but comes across as a bit simplistic and xenophobic to readers over a century later. This blatant celebration of American pride, however, was no doubt the very reason the piece was reprinted as America was entering World War I.

Fans of Frank Norris will find this article interesting and worth their time, but it’s not one of his best pieces of work. For those curious about his early career as a journalist, I would suggest checking out the two volumes of The Apprenticeship Writings of Frank Norris, edited by Joseph R. McElrath and Douglas K. Burgess.
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Frank Norris’s writings for The Overland Monthly

The good, the bad, and the masterpiece

Frank Norris

Technically this is not a book review, because no such book exists. The topic of this post is a group of stories that have never been brought together between the covers of any one volume. Early in his career, before he became a famous novelist, Frank Norris wrote several stories for The Overland Monthly, a literary journal published in San Francisco that was founded by the writer Bret Harte. Norris, who had studied art in Paris before deciding on a literary career, not only wrote these stories but also illustrated most of them. With one or two possible exceptions, these writings have never been published in book form. Today’s reader, however, can access them all for free online. The entire archives of The Overland Monthly have been digitized by the University of Michigan Libraries as part of their Making of America project. A search by author for Norris yields eight results.

Not all of the pieces included here are winners. “Crepusculum,” from the April 1892 issue, is a brief and forgettable poem contemplating life and death. “Travis Hallett’s Half-Back,” a short story from the January 1894 issue, is the tale of a young woman who falls in love with a football player. When the couple faces a potentially dangerous situation, her hero uses his gridiron skills to rescue her from imminent peril. Some of the descriptive passages show inklings of Norris’s burgeoning talent, but overall the plot is predictable and silly.

Five stories, published from March 1894 to February 1895, comprise a series entitled “Outward and Visible Signs”. I have no idea what the title refers to or even what the five pieces are supposed to have in common. They all deal in some way with a male/female relationship, but they are by no means traditional love stories. The first three pieces in the series are nothing to get excited about, but installments four and five are quite good. In “IV. After Strange Gods,” a sailor from Brittany and a flower seller from China meet at the World’s Fair and fall in love. Though the piece has the fanciful tone of a folk tale, it is unpredictable and surprisingly poignant. In “V. Thoroughbred,” two men, the complete opposite of one another, both court the same young woman. When their quiet afternoon tennis match is interrupted by a threat of violence, one gentleman exhibits behavior that sets him apart from his rival. Despite a message that is alarmingly classist, it is an entertaining and well-crafted story.

The longest story among this group is by far the best. “Lauth,” published in the March 1893 issue, is perhaps the best short story Norris ever wrote. In medieval Paris, a scholar participates in a mass riot in the streets. While fighting in a skirmish with a brigade of gendarmes, he is killed. A physician colleague of his reclaims the body and, after pondering the nature of life and death, decides to attempt to bring his old friend back to life. “Lauth” is a gripping tale that alternates between gritty action and lofty philosophical discourse, with elements of science fiction and horror. It combines the exceptional literary quality of one of Emile Zola’s better novels with the action and suspense of an adventure tale by Robert Louis Stevenson or Robert E. Howard. Despite its gothic undertones, “Lauth” is an early masterpiece in the development of American naturalism. Although the subject matter and setting are atypical of Norris’s work, it is a must read for fans of his work.

The stories Norris wrote for The Overland Monthly illustrate the preliminary stages on the road to the mature naturalistic writing style he would later employ in his famous novels. With the exception of “Lauth,” these early pieces are not necessarily his best work, but those who enjoy Norris’s excellent novels will certainly appreciate these long-lost stories.

Stories in this collection

Crepusculum 

Lauth 

Travis Hallett’s Half-Back 

Outward and Visible Signs: I. She and the Other Fellow 

Outward and Visible Signs: II. The Most Noble Conquest of Man 

Outward and Visible Signs: III. Outside the Zenana 

Outward and Visible Signs: IV. After Strange Gods 

Outward and Visible Signs: V. Thoroughbred 

 

The Apprenticeship Writings of Frank Norris, 1896–1898. Volume 2: 1897–1898. Edited by Joseph R. McElrath, Jr., and Douglas K. Burgess

The aspiring novelist hones his craft
In the second volume of The Apprenticeship Writings of Frank Norris, editors Joseph R. McElrath, Jr. and Douglas K. Burgess have collected all of Norris’s writings that were published in the San Francisco Wave from the end of June 1897 to late September of 1898. Although Volume 2 contains more fiction, it is a bit less satisfying than Volume 1. Part of this may be due to the fact that many of the pieces included here have already been published in other collections like The Third Circle or the Library of America volume Frank Norris: Novels and Essays. Nevertheless, for anyone looking for a deeper understanding of the author and his writings, this collection encapsulates an important stage in his literary development. As was the case with Volume 1, the editors have done an excellent job with the material, even though the material itself in many cases is not Norris’s best work. McElrath and Burgess provide a very good introduction, though it does contain quite a few spoilers, so you may want to save it for the end.

While Volume 2 does not contain any of the sports writings that were so cumbersome in Volume 1, it does contain the annoying series “The Opinions of Leander,” consisting of five or six transcriptions of inane conversations between two country club chaps who feel it their duty to debate the proper behavior of a society girl. Even if the character of Leander is intended to be a buffoon, the series still amounts to Norris preaching to young women on how to conduct themselves. Some of the better selections in the book include “Miracle Joyeux,” an unconventional and irreverent story of Jesus; “Sanitary Reduction,” in which Norris the naturalistic journalist visits the San Francisco trash dump, and “Perverted Tales,” a delightful series of humorous stories in which Norris parodies the style and subject matter of Rudyard Kipling, Stephen Crane, Bret Harte, Richard Harding Davis, Ambrose Bierce, and Anthony Hope.

The nonfiction pieces do not have quite the enthusiasm and originality that marked Norris’s writing of the previous year. It’s as if he had something better to do than expend his time and energy on journalism. Fortunately, of course, that something better was writing novels, at which he would go on to become a master. The best thing about The Apprenticeship Writings Volume 2 is that it contains stories that serve as preliminary sketches for his later, greater novels. “From Field to Storehouse,” in which Norris discusses the California wheat harvest, reads like research for his great agricultural epic The Octopus. “Judy’s Service of Gold Plate” is the story of Maria Macapa and Zerkow from McTeague, under different names. “Fantaisie Printanière” is another scene lifted from McTeague, this time featuring the title character himself. “The End of the Beginning” is a condensed version of the excellent opening chapters of A Man’s Woman. “The Drowned Who Do Not Die,” the haunting and mysterious tale of a deep sea diver charged with recovering bodies from a shipwreck, is perhaps the best story in the collection. It was later incorporated into Norris’s novel Blix.

Casual fans of Norris would do best to stick to his novels, but for those wishing to delve deeper into the life and work of this great author, The Apprenticeship Writings provides a welcome window into his early literary career. Avid aficionados and scholars of Norris’s work will find much here that is familiar, but they will discover many pleasant surprises as well.

The Apprenticeship Writings of Frank Norris, 1896–1898. Volume 1: 1896–1897. Edited by Joseph R. McElrath, Jr., and Douglas K. Burgess

The formative years of a literary giant
Though Frank Norris achieved his literary fame as a novelist, he got his start in the newspaper business, as a staff writer for the weekly periodical the San Francisco Wave. Norris contributed both fiction and nonfiction to the Wave, and was given wide latitude in his choice of subject matter. In The Apprenticeship Writings of Frank Norris, editors Joseph R. McElrath, Jr., and Douglas K. Burgess have compiled all of Norris’s writings from his two-year tenure at the Wave into two volumes, each about 350 pages in length. This first volume, published in 1996, covers the period from April 1896 to June 1897. Although a few of these pieces have been featured in previous collections, most of them haven’t seen print since they debuted in the Wave. This collection not only rescues some of Norris’s lesser known work from obscurity, but it also provides valuable insight into the development of the naturalistic style he employed in great novels like The Octopus and McTeague.

The introduction to this volume provides an excellent in-a-nutshell biography of Norris’s early years. As for his writings of this time, one surprising thing about Volume 1 is how little fiction it contains. Little more than a dozen of the items included are fiction, and most of them occur in the first 100 pages of the volume. The best of these are the “Man Proposes” series—five separate vignettes in which couples of various walks of life reach the decisive moment in their courtship. There are also a few insightful character studies of “Western types,” and unfortunately a few one-act plays which aren’t very good. The bulk of the book is nonfiction, and it’s in Norris’s depictions of San Francisco people, places, and events that we start to see the development of his mature style. Just a few of the high points are “On a Battleship” in which Norris likens the USS Oregon to a great beast; “Italy in California,” a travel piece in which he vividly describes the Italian-Swiss wine region of Asti; and “Inside an Organ,” in which he visits a giant electric pipe organ and beautifully exhibits his talent for sonic description. During his tenure at the Wave, Norris also interviewed actresses and artists, covered sporting events and military maneuvers, reviewed books and plays, translated stories from the French, and penned a few excellent literary essays in which he clarifies his concept of Naturalism.

The main problem with Volume 1 can be summed up in one word: football. It is almost all he wrote about in the Fall of 1896. Norris was a Harvard man, and his football articles often revolve around his assertion that “coastal” football is far inferior to the way the game was played back East. Though it’s interesting at first to read details of the way the game has changed over the past century, the football commentary gets monotonous after a while. Of Norris’s other journalistic writings, some are exceptional and some are forgettable, but at least the topics are sufficiently varied to keep your interest.

The editors have done a five-star job of compiling this volume, but Norris’s writing is all over the map in terms of quality. Probably the only people who are going to read this book are Norris scholars and his most diehard fans. To such an audience, the primary concern is not so much the quality of the work as it is how much these writings tell us about Norris’s literary development, and how these early pieces inform the renowned novels that would follow. This book is very successful on both counts, and Norris enthusiasts will find it a valuable addition to their collections.
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