Bookleggers and Smuthounds: The Trade in Erotica, 192-194

by Jay A. Gertzman

Between the two world wars, at a time when both sexual repression and sexual curiosity were commonplace, New York was the center of the erotic literature trade in America. The market was large and contested, encompassing not just what might today be considered pornographic material but also sexually explicit fiction of authors such as James Joyce, Theodore Dreiser, and D.H. Lawrence; mail-order manuals; pulp romances; and "little dirty comics."

Bookleggers and Smuthounds vividly brings to life this significant chapter in American publishing history, revealing the subtle, symbiotic relationship between the publishers of erotica and the moralists who attached them—and how the existence of both groups depended on the enduring appeal of prurience. By keeping intact the association of sex with obscenity and shameful silence, distributors of erotica simultaneously provided the antivice crusaders with a public enemy.

Jay Gertzman offers unforgettable portrayals of the "pariah capitalists" who shaped the industry, and of the individuals, organizations, and government agencies that sought to control them. Among the most compelling personalities we meet are the notorious publisher Samuel Roth, "the Prometheus of the Unprintable," and his nemesis, John Sumner, head of the New York Society for the Suppression of Vice, a man aggressive in his pursuit of pornographers and in his quest for a morally united—and ethnically homogeneous—America.

Genres: History

424 pages, Paperback

First published June 1, 1999

About the author

Professor emeritus of English at Mansfield University, is author of three books, including Bookleggers and Smuthounds: The Trade in Erotica, 1920–1940.

Reviews

[Gabriel · Rating 2 out of 5]

The title is both absolutely appropriate and terribly misleading.

Gertzman's book is about the erotica trade, about (well, one, mostly) the men who perpetrated it, and, indirectly, about the culture that supported it. It is a lengthy biography of two figures in particular, Comstock's successor at the New York Society for the Suppression of Vice, John Sumner, and about his most nefarious nemesis, Samuel Roth, first American publisher of "Ulysses," and professional sleaze.

With such a tight focus, this book does a horrendous job of covering what it promises to cover. Gertzman reduces the trade to his own family's part in it, the bookseller(s) of questionable (by their contemporaries' judgments) books. Gertzman focuses on books that have subsequently become accepted as part of the canon of Modernist literature, from Joyce and Lawrence to Faulkner, Fitzgerald and Hemingway. As a result, (largely) exorcised from his pages is the "spicy stuff" that he repeatedly makes mention of. His project, as he conceives it and expresses it at several points, is to show that censorship of erotic art rather creates perversion and criminality, where openness and curiosity should prevail. And I would have no problem with that, if he then pursued it. But he spends so much time talking about books that have subsequently been redeemed that he doesn't focus on the works that will perhaps never be redeemed, but are still a major part of his thesis.

Not that Gertzman never addresses these works-- there is a short chapter that deals almost exclusively with them, but there, too, they are curiously cloaked, as though the taboos that he is examining are still in effect seventy years later. His Epilogue marginally redeems this effort through the force of his argument, but it doesn't do the real work that he has promised to do: to unearth and lay in the sun the materials that could not even be named in polite society in the 30s. Instead, he is as much a part of the culture of repression that he here deplores as Sumner was, and for the same conservative reasons. Shake only gently, Gertzman warns-- don't upset those with the purse-strings.

[Adam Dunn · Rating 2 out of 5]

Far too dry. The first couple of chapters are good but then it goes heavy into the moral crusaders and there is no turning back. Lady Chatterley's Lover is mentioned on almost every page.
A couple things I found interesting, that the restriction on books was not just limited to sex but also morals. And also there was a large amount of books on homosexuality published, I had assumed it would be all straight.

[Bill Wallace · Rating 4 out of 5]

A pretty good look at a time not that long ago when American culture was dominated by a cabal of conservatives, Catholics, and prudes who couldn't see the difference between Ulysses and a Tijuana Bible. Centered around the book trade, mostly in New York City, Chicago, and Boston, Gertzman's analysis of bookburning fervor focuses mostly on two men -- John Sumner, heir to the Comstock throne of postal suppression -- and Samuel Roth -- a complex litterateur and smutmonger, hated equally by bluenoses and the intelligentsia. I thought the book relied too much on official records, which make dry reading, and insufficiently on memoirs and contemporary newspaper accounts (there is a newspaper page among the illustrations that provides some of the liveliest prose in the book), but for the most part, this is a fine account of America trying to work out exactly what freedom of speech means, while chained in the bonds of well-meaning zealots.

[Fred · Rating 4 out of 5]

The focus of this book is on censorship and how a small group of men defined what was acceptable reading material in early 20th century America. A fascinating read.

[Tucker · Rating 5 out of 5]

Little-known history about how difficult it was to sell books that had even the slightest references to sexual content in the early 20th century in New York City. It was illegal even to send advertisements through the mail. Vice squads confiscated and burned books and put booksellers in prison. There were also economic pressures due to the Depression, as few people could afford books at the niche prices the limited edition presses would have preferred to charge, so some material was deliberately produced cheaply for mass consumption. Those who kept at it had to be tough. The several individuals Gertzman focuses on in this story were all Jews. I put a little more info on Dead Men Blogging. An engaging example of academic language.