The Unpossessed

by Tess Slesinger, Elizabeth Hardwick (Introduction)

Tess Slesinger's 1934 novel, The Unpossessed details the ins and outs and ups and downs of left-wing New York intellectual life and features a cast of litterateurs, layabouts, lotharios, academic activists, and fur-clad patrons of protest and the arts. This cutting comedy about hard times, bad jobs, lousy marriages, little magazines, high principles, and the morning after bears comparison with the best work of Dawn Powell and Mary McCarthy.

Genres: Fiction, Classics, American, Literature, New York, 20th Century, Novels

306 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1934

Reviews

[Lisa · Rating 4 out of 5]

Wow, what a bitterly funny, dark book. Very funny in parts, but ultimately pretty dark. It dovetails really weirdly with what I'm doing for a living right now -- researching the history of an intellectual anti-Communist left Little Magazine -- and I'm so immersed in this time period right now that it was like listening to someone talk smack about your family when they didn't think you were listening, if that makes sense.

Slesinger nails the whole Zeitgeist, the pompousness and uber-seriousness of people who identify as intelligentsia and revolutionaries, building them up and taking them down neatly. The style is a bit dated in that Modernist way, but there's not much you can argue with there. Some of the caricatures are a bit on the slapstick side, but she has a good cast of players and it's a solid little amorality play. But man, it's cold.

[paulA neves · Rating 3 out of 5]

I can see how Tess Slesinger was brilliant and all that, but the bottom line is that her experimental narrative technique, the fragmentary recreation of raucous, self-absorbed 1930's New Yorkers, is just plain tedious to get through at times. Although I tend toward character-driven, impressionistic, non-linear narrative myself most of the time, when the style becomes so obvious that it bogs down the pacing (as opposed to the more polished, masterfully organic way it's done by a Virginia Woolf in To the Lighthouse, say), then it starts to annoy me, regardless of its merits.

Still, this book is worth the read. Slesinger has some spot-on psychoanalytic observations about intellectual pursuits, political involvement, and how achievement, celebrity, and personal motivation make interesting bedfellows, especially among those drawn to the special neuroses-nurturing circles of New York (something I suspect hasn't changed much since 1934), but probably applicable to many. Case in point: "He saw them...coming together less from their belief in revolution...than from some terrible need in each of them to lay out his own personal conflicts in terms of something higher, to solve his private ends camouflaged as world-problems, secretly in public." As a professor of mine once said, everything is autobiographical.

[Hobart Mariner · Rating 2 out of 5]

Honestly serves me right for reading a book recommended by a podcast. A book about people who care about political ideas doesn’t itself have to care about political ideas, but it shouldn’t like totally disparage them as a category of thought. Particularly if it’s in order to prefer some farcical “genuine womanhood/manhood” which is disastrously stymied whenever people fail to reproduce. Two valuable aspects: as a relic of the intermediate Small Magazine culture that gave rise to annoying stuff like Commentary, and as one of the first instances of an abortion being depicted, however indirectly. They don't make up for cloying (and repetitive!) melodrama and what feels like genuine hostility towards any ideas, particularly in the mouths of female characters: a woman Trotskyist is depicted as having gone down that path only because she's ugly, another woman communist is described unflatteringly as a hermaphrodite, etc. Not a good book.

[Daniel KML · Rating 4 out of 5]

I had actually downloaded the e-book file for Hofmannsthal's The Lord Chandos Letter and Other Writings , only to find out—when opening the file on my Kindle—that someone had replaced my original book of desire (while keeping Hofmannsthal's in the file name) with Tess Slesinger's The Unpossessed, which I knew nothing about.

Fortunately, I’ve set a goal for 2025: to read at least four books by lesser-known women writers published by NYRB Classics. A goal that emerged after reading Susan Taubes’s Lament for Julia, and Other Stories and watching an interview with the French writer Anne Garréta*, in which she states that any woman who managed to publish a book in the 20th century is worthy of being read.

So, what about Slesinger’s novel? I’d say it’s an interesting one—clearly inspired by her modernist contemporaries (Virginia Woolf and The Waves come to mind), albeit less dense and easier to follow, but equally well crafted in terms of style. The novel follows a group of frustrated intellectuals in 1930s New York. It’s quite polyphonic in its structure, yet manages to capture the psychological depth of its many characters. A funny, still somewhat relevant novel. It also includes what is likely the first literary depiction of a woman seeking medical support for an abortion.

*For those interested, here is the mentioned interview: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3qo6E...

Ps.: Only now I realize that the title The Unpossessed bears a connection with Dostoevsky's Demons that was popularly translated as The Possessed in the first decades of the 20th century. It has some level of popular unrest (great depression) and student groups and intellectuals influenced by a wide range of revolutionary ideas.

[Bill FromPA · Rating 2 out of 5]

In the winter of 1931-32 Mrs. Merle Holloway, a wealthy psychoanalysis-addicted Manhattanite throws a party for the benefit the Hunger Marchers and to announce the launch of a new revolutionary magazine. In addition to her well-to-do circle of acquaintance, the party is attended by a cadre of revolution-ready students and the group of self-declared intellectuals behind the new magazine. There is also in attendance “one of our more distinguished Negroes”, who some of the wealthy guests think must be part of the entertainment and others assume is a representative of the cause being supported.

It’s a setup for some of the politically-informed comedy of the Great Depression era – think My Man Godfrey or Sullivan’s Travels. And the long (80 page) party scene is pretty funny, and very well written, an interweaving of many, many voices, that are individualized with great art, giving the impression of a large number of individuals interacting and mis-communicating, taking social cues from one another or meaningfully ignoring them. But the humor doesn’t reach screwball comedy levels; it’s more a leaven for the mixture of cynicism, idealism, and despair that constitute the tone of Slesinger’s narrative.

The bad news is that the party scene and a somber, moving closing chapter make up only the final third of this novel, the first two hundred pages of which are taken up with the activities of that small group of intellectuals who are, in a chaotic and unfocused manner, trying to create the new magazine. These are among the most tedious pages I can remember reading, recurring glimpses into the thoughts of six self-obsessed characters which repeatedly give the reader the same information in only slightly different form. It took real trust in the taste of the editors of NYRB Classics and Elizabeth Hardwick, who wrote the introduction, to stick with the novel long enough to finally get to the good part.

If you’re good at skimming, it may be worth reading this novel for the final third, but if, like me, you need to read every word of a book, I don’t think the destination is worth the tedium of the journey.

[Elizabeth · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is one of those NYRB Classics that perfectly fits the goals of the series. That is, this book deserves to be reissued and read far more widely than it currently is. Tess Slesinger captures social striving and class dynamics with all of the erudition of Edith Wharton, while also managing to seem thoroughly modern (borderline Joycean at times) in her stylistic sensibilities. Most compelling was the interiority she infuses on male and female characters, alike. I loved how individuals could go from profound to mundane to outright despicable thoughts about each other over the course of just a few pages, showing that while the characters she depicts may be types, there is nothing flat about them. And, of course, I loved the vivid detail about the food and drinks, all the more poignant given the Depression Era setting. I'd highly recommend this and feel compelled to read it again myself to further relish the rich depictions all over again.

[Peter · Rating 4 out of 5]

This 1934 "socialist feminist" novel is a brilliant satire of both the arrogant detachment of the upper class ("Don't speak to me of bravery among your lower classes. I know nothing to compare with Emily Fancher's courage in coming here tonight," says a society matron of the wife of a tycoon who has the "courage" to appear at a society ball just after her husband is sent to prison for embezzlement) and the complete impotence of leftist intellectuals ("Our meetings are masterpieces of postponement, our ideologies brilliant rationalizations to prevent our ever taking action.") which had me repeatedly laughing out loud. But ultimately, the book is the sad and poignant story of a young intellectual couple who are so wrapped up in idealism and abstract ideas that they are afraid to simply live life.

[Robert Wechsler · Rating 5 out of 5]

Her only novel, published when she was only 29, it is so bright, so playfully and angrily intellectual, so intelligently experimental, so sharp and sensitive, satirical and forgiving and unforgiving. It is a condemnation of the generation older than her, although it seems written by someone much older, and it is certainly not sympathetic to any of the younger. It is dark, and gets darker and darker, especially in terms of intellectuals and the wealthy they depend on, their isolation mentally, physically, and emotionally, even from themselves. It̕s such a tragedy that a woman who could write such sentences, who could have been a Jewish Mary McCarthy before there ever was a Catholic one, never wrote another novel in the ten years she had left.

[Melanie · Rating 4 out of 5]

The Unpossessed is a darkly funny tale of sniping, snarking left-wing intellectuals, with a satisfyingly modernist zing that comes out in overstuffed party scenes and interior monologues on long boat trips. Comparisons to the work of Dawn Powell and Mary McCarthy are apt, but I think that some of Slesinger's characters (particularly Margaret and the Bruno-Emmett-Elizabeth triangle) are more vivid, their private anguish and public masks more richly drawn, than those of Powell or McCarthy. (Not to disparage Powell or McCarthy, whose writing I love and enjoy!)

[Karen · Rating 3 out of 5]

Several things happened as I read this book.
1) I couldn’t help but seeing it as a movie
2) I couldn’t help comparing it to the Grapes of Wrath.
3) And once again, I am SO GLAD the women’s movement happened!

[Elderberrywine · Rating 2 out of 5]

One can only handle so much manic jazz baby.

But I give the second star for the arrival of the Filing Cabinet, a cause for celebration, as the motley crew of radical intellectuals take that as the sign their Magazine might someday become a reality. Dream on, you crazy stars.

[Moira Downey · Rating 3 out of 5]

Bits of this were, I thought, brilliant; bits of it were fully a slog.

[Lucy Cummin]

I can't rate The Unpossessed. I have decided to stop reading -- the book makes me uncomfortable as a writer and as a reader. As a writer I loathe it when someone says to me, 'This was a very ambitious effort' because it is a kind way of saying 'You didn't succeed in your aim, no matter how worthy etc. the effort.' Margaret Flinders is married to a New Englander (a parody of one, I might add, intentionally or un) and lives in NYC, one of a group of 'intellectuals' devoted to exploring ideas and living truthfully meaningfully or whatever, only none of them do. There is the brilliant Jewish guy who wants to start a Magazine (or does he?), a handsome rake, and so on -- all of them self-absorbed to a degree that is painful and just . . . not authentic-feeling to me. There is a (sorry) hysterical (Freud influence?) edge to all the thoughts of the women, except one, Norah (the rake's wife is a 'real' woman, peaceful and devoted to her husband despite his habits, and obviously sexually satisfied (because so tranquil? Really?). All with the effect to make me long more than ever for Elizabeth Bennett who would have found these people ridiculous and rightly so. As to the Joyce homage, I'm surprised that in the forward by the eminent Eliz. Hardwick, she doesn't mention this feature. The language and the thoughts tumble and jumble and try to sparkle in a Joycean way, but alas. What can I say, it just doesn't work for me. Might for you or might work as a period piece of interest. A valiant attempt.

[Sydney Julien · Rating 5 out of 5]

A satire of social circles composed of left-leaning, economically comfortable, artists and intellectuals. It was published a whole 91 years ago but somehow the social commentary felt fresh and relevant (even if some is a bit dated). I mean, most of the book centers around a group of people trying to start a “revolutionary” magazine while their own dysfunction stops them from doing so. The prose style was very modernist and sometimes difficult but it was worth it.
A mention that voting third party is a contentious debate that makes everyone angry and defensive? An undergrad student claiming that their college campus is like a miniature fascist state? Assuring party goers that their reason for not attending a Hunger March are “valid“? A man telling a woman to “let go of her bourgeois notions” while trying to get her to cheat on her husband with him?
Hilarious. Could have been written yesterday.

[Stephen Scarano]

We kept Christopher Lasch in the microwave too long and he’s come out all Dasha Nekrasova. It’s end times! I look out my window and now

- Rich girls in the Hamptons are in union negotiations to say the r word.
- Caleb Hearon is “done with the democrats” and “focusing on the issues”.
- Doomscroll is publishing episodes titled “Post-Politics”

And I’m wearing tanks again, so now everyone is failing the moment. If bro retreats from politics, bro brings the politics home and asks it to dinner. Bro is asking politics which beer is most appropriate and politics says to go sober. Sober is the most post-political choice. A good book, and a funny book: irony in pursuit of something earnest and tender (seems to be beyond us).

[Anne · Rating 2 out of 5]

I loved Slesinger's collection of short stories, On Being Told that Her Second Husband Has Taken His First Lover, but this novel, although dealing with the same sort of characters, is different. She is more interested in their thoughts than their actions, and she relates them in endless, exhaustive detail. I soon became bored with all of them and gave up a quarter of the way through.

It's a shame that Slesinger died so young; her work showed great promise.

[Martin · Rating 3 out of 5]

I wanted to like this book more than I did because of its fascinating time period and colorful characters. I found the writing style to be very dated with stilted stream of conscious run on sentences that were often hard to follow. The third part is a hilarious funding raising party which all the characters attend that is the highlight of the book. The last 20 pages were overwritten and depressing. I recommend this book for readers who enjoy books about NYC in the 1930s. There is also an interesting but incipient gay relationship that isn't fully developed.

[Jake Bittle]

Some of the first scenes felt stiff, much like Powell's Locusts, but she put it together at the end. Just loved the one-two punch of the big party—reminiscent of the literary salon in Demons—and the postlude coming home from the hospital. If in Powell I wasn't sure what I was supposed to feel, here I'm not quite sure who's being satirized, other than filing cabinets. Of this generation of writers, only McCarthy is really able to put it all together.

[Stephen Z · Rating 5 out of 5]

The revolution can't run on weekends

[Dylan · Rating 4 out of 5]

the elizabeth/denny section is stunning

[Zoe Dubno · Rating 5 out of 5]

thought this was pretty good, especially the end. beginning a bit hard to get through but i do agree w// general thesis that being a woman is so weird

[Michael · Rating 3 out of 5]

At times exquisitely crafted, in terms of the writing. But dull on the whole, exquisitely crafted navel gazing.

[Wil Gilbreath · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5
A lot of modernist prose to wade through for the payoff. Interesting enough as a document of the times and an exploration of the neuroses of the intellectual class.

[Sean Goodwin · Rating 4 out of 5]

Much like Kerouac, the writing style alone is worth the stars, very innovative for the time, but as like On the Road, I just don't care about the characters that much.

[Matt Schlesinger · Rating 4 out of 5]

Jews argue about Marxism in 30s NY—what’s not to love

[Christopher · Rating 4 out of 5]

There's one point near the end of Unpossessed that reminded me of the NYT article last week about the wife of a Wall Street Powerhouse who continued to drop big bucks regularly at the likes of Hermes while her husband was being called on the carpet in front of Congress while America slides farther into financial doom partly through his titanic doings. Cultural history repeats itself. Every generation has it's intellectual revolutionaries who find themselves in the awkward position of having to join hands with the stupidly rich because they're the ones who bankroll everything, even revolutions.

Down from that higher level, the personal stories in this novel are mostly well done. I say mostly cuz with the hindsight of 70's years of cultural progress there are character lines that grate and I tend to label as "quaintly stereotypical", if there is such a thing. It was refreshing to be reminded there were intelligent people who talked booze & sex & radical politics behind that generation of whitewashed MGM musicals. I kept thinking 'how many of these characters would end up in front of McCarthy 20 years on?"

All in all a good read and far more complex and engrossing than I'd imagined going in. The final pages would be fitting for a Winslet-DiCaprio portrayal.

[Kasa Cotugno · Rating 5 out of 5]

Every generation sees itself as the arbiter of change, of revolution. Each views itself as the force behind social upheaval, rallying against the conservatism of their predecessors. This is why The Unpossessed is such a revelation. Written 50 years before The Big Chill hit the screens, it presages that exemplar of supposed thwarted idealism and perceived sellout. Tess Slesinger's life was cut short at 39, but in those few years she packed a lot of wisdom and wit. Before moving to Los Angeles she lived all her life in New York, insider to the intellectual circles and artists that make up the characters in this book. Unfortunately, aside from some short stories, this is her only published work of fiction. She went on to write successful screenplays (Academy Award nominated for A Tree Grows in Brooklyn), and her descendants continue to work in the movie industry as producers and directors. But this book is firmly rooted between-the-wars New York City, funny and perceptive, sad at times. But always unflinchingly honest. What a shame she wasn't around to write more.

[Mary Hendrie · Rating 5 out of 5]

This is the rare satire that manages to both take the characters seriously while mercilessly puncturing their self-important ideas. With exceptional comic timing and stylish, inventive prose it interrogates the chasm between pure ideology and material impact.

While one character searches for “some way of finding the world without reading papers from Germany,” another bitterly complains that, “We talk and talk like an old Russian novel. I’d like to know what any of us do.”

Yet another muses, mere pages after watching a woman dramatically faint of hunger, “When the intellectual gets intellectual enough, my boy … is there an object? Is there a Magazine? Is there such a thing as hunger?”

The characters’ habits of speaking in elliptical, lofty paragraphs as they brood over the role of the intellectual in their unsettled world is often undercut by daffy bursts of action. This sharp portrait of Slesinger’s own intellectual milieu feels just as relevant today as it must have done when it became a sensation at the time of its 1934 release.

[D · Rating 3 out of 5]

It's written in a very clever way, really establishing most of the leading characters with their own chapters, and then in the latter part of the book, the author just skips neatly from one characters train of though to another, whilst letting the scene unfold.

Slesinger has written a comedy - which would've made a great film in the hands of Howard Hawkes. Essentially it relies on a rich vain pompous New York socialite, to support a bunch of left wing intellectuals with some money to start a magazine, because her son is friends with a professor, and ends in a surreal setting of a fancy party for the Hunger Marches that were part of that time (1932 - Ford Hunger March).

Slesinger writes with real knowledge of that circle, and has an acute eye for the details of slalom that we weave for ourselves between the contadictions that are pitched up in life.

[Rachel Hope · Rating 3 out of 5]

Marketed as a black comedy, but more black than comedy IMO. A group portrait of a circle of leftist intellectuals, men and women, in Greenwich Village during the Great Depression. Characters based on well-known intellectuals such as Clifton Fadiman & Lionel and Diana Trilling. The narration moves back and forth between different characters' perspectives. I didn't enjoy Slesinger's work the way that I enjoyed Mary McCarthy's The Group. Slesinger's portrait of her milieu is etched in acid. But definitely an interesting read for anybody curious about the history of New York leftie intellectual types.