So all this time I've been making Maxwell Perkins and William Maxwell into one person. One was an editor at Scribners and the other an editor at The New Yorker. One, however, wrote fiction, and the other did not. These are the letters of the man who did not, and what an editor (and very patient individual) he was! Having discovered Thomas Wolfe, F Scott Fitzgerald, and Ernest Hemingway--what more needs to he said? His relationship with Tom Wolfe was agonizing yet touching, and Hemingway (no surprise) took him fishing and duck hunting, and on other such manly adventures.
One more thing does need to be said, actually--Colin Firth plays the movie version of Perkins. For those who find details such as John Galsworthy and his wife inviting F Scott Fitzgerald over for dinner interesting, or want some insight into the publishing world and editing/publishing philosophy in the first half of the 20th century (including the Great Depression and WWII). There's an anecdote or two about Winston Churchill, and even a letter to Leon Trotsky. Now that's what I call having connections.
Maxwell Perkins was an amazing editor. There's no doubt about that. And these letters offer a view into his mind that is wonderful to see (though I will admit that it took me awhile to get through them as one can only read so many of them at a time). They cover a span of some thirty years of his career and highlight his correspondence with authors including F. Scott Fitzgerald, Ernest Hemingway, and Thomas Wolfe. And while the relationships Perkins had with his authors varied, naturally, there's a great deal of respect and friendship to be found. Praise, constructive criticism, encouragement, and genuine feeling are in each one of his letters to them. Sometimes copious amounts of hand-holding too.
Of course, there are also letter to people who have written in to complain or condemn Perkins and/or Scribner's for publishing certain books—some of Perkins's responses are pretty amusing too, as he expounds on his views regarding free speech and censorship, effectively dismissing the arguments of people who sometimes haven't even read the works they're condemning. There are also some letters rejecting manuscripts—which never get too harsh but are always honest. Unfortunately, the names have been redacted in all of these types of letters, because it would certainly be interesting to know to whom they're addressed. (This collection of letters, however, was published in 1950, so perhaps it wouldn't have been such a good idea to include the names after all...)
The time frame in which these letters were written (1914–1947) was an extraordinarily tumultuous one, and the social, economical, political, and cultural changes that took place during those years are also reflected here and there, as they relate to the state of publishing and to life in general. As a literary man, Perkins often compares things—from the eighteenth amendment to the outbreak of wars—to the debate between Erasmus and Luther or the works of Tolstoy—War and Peace in particular. It's quite revealing.
Perkins's insights into publishing, editing, and writing are intelligent, thoughtful, and fascinating to read. He was a humble man with great talent of his own and a simple eloquence—I can only hope to one day have a fraction of his gifts or successes, but I definitely felt a kinship with his attitude and approach to his craft. I thoroughly enjoyed this book.
Ironically, a poorly edited volume. Wheelock's footnotes are more often redundant than illuminating. (Do we really need to be told time and time again that The Great Gatsby is a novel by F. Scott Fitzgerald published in 1925? I think we know.) Far too many of the letters are presented without enough context to be meaningful, and too many more seem to fulfill the same role, creating another redundancy -- why must we see Perkins respond to accusations of obscenity and requests for censorship in almost exactly the same way, in letter after letter, when one example would do?
There are nevertheless some gems in this collection, but I really wish these letters would be republished, with greater context and better explanatory notes, including, when possible, both sides of the correspondence.
If you want a great inside-look at both what made publishing in the 20th century both fraught and fascinating, this is a great book to dig up and read.
Want a more nuanced and not-as-known view of lauded authors? Read the letters from the editor who (in my opinion) was the real person who made the fortunes and fame of Hemingway, Fitzgerald, and Wolfe by forcing them to be far better writers than their initial drafts showed them to be.
This book, for me, captures the essence of the golden era of American publishing and American literature. Such clear, clean, beautiful prose filled with good advice for authors, publishers and readers, alike! Perkin's always left choices up to the author, but never minced words when pointing them in a different direction to help better craft (and sell) their writing. In one of the early letters to F. Scott Fitzgerald he cautions 'Scott' to not rush publication of his book before the "publisher's travelers" can sell to bookstores, and before publicity could be properly arranged. Any bookstore buyer or salesrep would appreciate Perkin's admonishments against 'crashing' a new book! The respectful praise with which Perkin's guides his authors is inspiring me to re-read the greats such as Fitzgerald, Hemingway, Rawlings,and Wolfe, as well as to discover those I've never read like Marcia Davenport and Caroline Gordon. I happily re-discovered Stark Young, also published by Scribner and edited by Perkins, and learned of other novels by him, aside from Heaven Trees. That was a little gem I discovered at the library years ago, but have since lost track of his other work. I'll be haunting the virtual and actual bookstacks of used bookstores soon!
A massive work covering Perkins' correspondence from 1915 - 1947, occasionally including lengthy notes dressing a letter's context and footnotes regarding specific references therein. Correspondents include F. Scott Fitzgerald, Thomas Wolfe, Hemmingway, and many more — some notable, some forgotten. I casually skipped around these, finding the rejection letters or negative feedback to be perhaps the most interesting.
This is the perfect book for understanding Perkins' relationship with Charles Scribner's Sons authors. I found myself cross-referencing some letters to a few of the author's autobiographical material. An interesting historical exercise.
The cross-referencing was done during a week-long vacation so time was abundant.
Mere coincidence that Scribner's editor Maxwell Perkins happened to discover/edit some of America's finest modern authors, such as F. Scott Fitzgerald, Ernest Hemingway, Thomas Wolfe, Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings, and Erskine Caldwell? I think not, although Perkins preferred to downplay his role. Unlike children who should be "seen and not heard," he wrote that editors should be "neither seen nor heard."
If I were as interested in the works of Hemingway and Fitzgerald as I am in those of Sendak and Fitzhugh, I would have liked this book as much as I liked Ursula Nordstrom's collected letters. The fact that I did not probably says more about me than about Maxwell Perkins.
It was good. Very insightful. Though I wish the editor had included some of the letters sent TO Perkins for context. At times, it was difficult to gauge what Perkins was responding to in his letters.