The Harvard University that Estlin Cummings entered in
September 1911 was a place in the grip of enormous, conservative, regressive
change.
Until 1909,. The of Harvard had been run with the aristocratic
liberal rigor of Charles William Eliot, who had been its president for forty
years. Eliot was a populist democrat in an elitist world who believed that any
man could be educated by reading a five-foot shelf of classics – books that
became the Harvard Classics. Eliot was so liberal that he had overseen the
creation of Radcliffe College from what previously had been the Harvard Annex
for women. Radcliffe women had their own classrooms, of course; women weren’t
permitted in Harvard classes until 1943. Eliot had brought Harvard from being a
provincial school to being a beacon of educational excellence for the entire
country.
When Cummings got to Harvard two years after Eliot stepped
down, the institution was slowly and painfully giving way to what would become
the new Harvard under conservative, anti-Semitic, racist aegis of A. Lawrence
Lowell, a Brahmin’s Brahmin who ran Harvard College for the next twenty-four
years. Lowell “represented the conservative and exclusionary wing of the
Protestant upper class as surely as Eliot represented its liberal democratic
wing,” writes Jerome Karabel. He was also a brilliant fund-raiser.
Under President Lowell, the university would thrive and
prosper when it came to money, enrollment, and buildings. Its endowment would go
from $23 million to $123 million, its student body would double from four thousand
to eight thousand, and many of the buildings that identify the Harvard campus
today – the Widener Library, the Memorial Chapel – were built.
Under Lowell, the university would join the national mood of
intolerance: for Jews, for homosexuals, and for women. President Lowell was distressed
when the percentage of Jews in the 1922 graduating class rose to 22 from a
genteel 7 in 1907. Lowell believed that democracy and the universities should
be homogeneous – “homogeneous’ meaning that they should be peopled by white
Protestant men. Lowell knew that his old-fashioned convictions would not be
enough to change university policy or sway the disturbing liberal Board of
Overseers. Instead he argued, first, that having a class that was 22 percent
Jewish hurt Harvard’s applicant pool, because the right kind of parents didn’t
want to send their children to a college with so many Jews.
President Lowell also argued that admitting so many Jews
might add to anti-Semitism; his stated theory was that the more Jewish students
were at Harvard, the greater the prejudice against them might be! “The
anti-Semitic feeling among students is increasing, and it grows in proportion
to the increase in the number of Jews. If their number should become forty per
cent of the student body, the race feeling would become intense,” he wrote.
President Lowell decided that Harvard should institute a 15 per cent quota
system for admitting Jewish students. He was also against letting
African-American students live in the freshman dorms, where, beginning in 1915,
all freshman were required to live. This confused policy was quickly abolished.
His policy regarding Jewish students was not so easy to resolve.
Lowell received a great deal of public criticism for his
suggestion of a quota, particularly in the Boston press. Later, his rectitude
was further tested when he served on a three-member commission appointed by
Massachusetts Governor Alvan Fuller to review the convictions of Sacco and
Vanzetti. Lowell’s commission found that the two anarchists had been justly
tried and sentenced. His role in sending Sacco and Vanzetti to their execution
on August 23, 1927, is one of the ways he lives in history.
In response to Lowell’s quota suggestions, Harvard’s
overseers appointed a thirteen-member committee, which included three Jews, to
study the university’s “Jewish problem.” The committee rejected a Jewish quota
but agreed that ‘geographical diversity” in the student body was desirable. At
the same time the theoretically defeated President Lowell changed the application
requirements to include a photograph and, if possible, an interview. As
students began being admitted from the western and Midwestern states, the student
body became once again predominantly Anglo-Saxon. By the time Lowell retired in
1933, Jewish students constituted less than 10 per cent of the Harvard student
body.
Of course, during these decades there was no discussion of a
group that was even more definitely barred from the precincts of the country’s
most prestigious university –women. During the years when Cummings was at
Harvard, in fact, women did not even have the vote. They had been campaigning for
nit since 1848. In 1914, by which time women had become one fifth of the American
work force, a suffragette named Alice Paul pushed the movement into militant
tactics, which were brutally repelled with the consent of President Woodrow
Wilson. Women were stripped and jailed, locked in solitary, and starved – all for
the sin of demonstrating on behalf of women having the vote.
Lowell was not alone in his general intolerance or his
ant-Semitism in particular. The freshman E. E. Cumming’s favorite professor,
Theodore Miller – his first Greek instructor and later a close friend – took a
job at Princeton in Cumming’s third year at Harvard. Miller visited the Cummings
camp in N. H. and introduced Cummings to a world of poetry – Shelley, Keats,
Sappho – that the young New Englander had not read. It was through miller that
Cummings discovered Greek literature as well as the Greek restaurants of
Boston, it was under Miller’s tutelage that he first started working on the art
of translation and the fragments of Sappho that appear in different patterns on
the page.. Miller directed Cummings to a letter from Keats that became a credo
for the young poets: “I am certain of nothing but of the holiness of the Heart’s
affections and the truth of Imagination.”
Yet even Dory Miller was immersed I and influenced by the repulsive
anti-Semitic environment in this country at the turn of the century. After he went south to teach at Princeton,
Miller wrote Cummings that he was glad to have moved, because at Harvard he had
to teach poetry with students like Cummings “sitting next to some little rough-neck
Irish Catholic or Polish Jew.” Miller, who had been his mentor in his early
years at Harvard, came to represent parts of the university that Cummings despised.
There was accepted Anti-Semitism in education and accepted anti-Semitism in
literature. The House of Mirth, Edith
Wharton’s best-selling 1905 novel, features a slimy Jewish character named Simon
Rosedale who is described as having the unattractive characteristics of his
race. In The Age of Innocence, which
won the Pulitzer Prize in 19212, Wharton deploys the same character in the form
of Julius Beaufort. Although Cummings was disturbed by anti-Semitism at Harvard
and in Cambridge, and this was one reason he left, later in his own career the
charge of anti-Semitism would be leveled at him and his work.
Another group that drew Lowell’s furious drive for homogeneity
was homosexuals. A purge of homosexuals on the Harvard campus was carried out
when Lowell convened a secret tribunal that interviewed thirty students and
expelled the ones accused. At a time when homosexuality was illegal in many
states, it was so condemned that few people were courageous enough to admit it.
In those days, men like Cumming’s favorite Uncle George, for instance, were ‘unmarried”
or “perennial bachelors,” as if even homosexuality had to be defined in
relation to heterosexual marriage.
Cummings himself certainly had bisexual yearnings –
yearnings that were so unthinkable as to be entirely suppressed. Although he
dutifully wrote poems to women, the great devotions of his early life were to
men – to his Harvard friends SD. Foster Damon and Scofield Thayer and
especially to the tall,, handsome James Sibley Watson Jr, a senior a wealthy
Rochester, New York, family who with his wife would become Cumming’s lifelong
patron and friend. Watson’s wife reported in her memoir that when she met him
Watson was already thrillingly scandalous in his hometown,. “He is interested
in rather depraved, even degenerate literature – reads Baudelaire, you know,
that sort of thing,” she was told before they met. During the course of dozens
of wildly drunken evenings, Cummings and Watson seem to have become physically
as well as emotionally close to each other. “Homosexual feelings towards
Watson,” Cummings wrote in his journals. “time we drove fr. Boston –NY all
night . . .”
Harvard was at a crossroads during Cummings’s five years
there, and so was Cummings. When he entered the college, he was younger than
most freshman – sixteen- and a slight 5’8” and looked even slighter standing
next to his bulky father, who was more than six feet tall. A blond with refined,
narrow features, he was painfully self-conscious about his body and his
persistent acne. In public he often his behind a newspaper. Because he commuted
from home, ( just a few blocks from Memorial Hall and across the street from
William James- who had introduced his future parents to one another), he joined
none of the clubs or fraternities that characterized most Harvard student’s
time in the Yard.
At the same time his writing lost its conscientiousness,
conventional pleasingness and began to lurch and jump with a manic, angry
energy . . . began to be rebellious, rule-breaking and
provocative. Formerly neatly dressed, he wore dirty clothes and forgot to
shave. His behavior changed from that of a rule follower and believer in the
Unitarian Church and all its puritanical precepts, as embodied in his powerful,
hulking father, to being a trickster, a Loki, a character like a poetic coyote,
the character who was always working below the surface to challenge authority
and blow up the foundations of the comfortable world.
i sing of Olaf glad and big
ReplyDeletewhose warmest heart recoiled at war:
a conscientious object-or
his wellbelovéd colonel (trig
westpointer most succinctly bred)
took erring Olaf soon in hand;
but—though an host of overjoyed
noncoms (first knocking on the head
him) do through icy waters roll
that helplessness which others stroke
with brushes recently employed
anent this muddy toiletbowl,
while kindred intellects evoke
allegiance per blunt instruments—
Olaf (being to all intents
a corpse and wanting any rag
upon what God unto him gave)
responds, without getting annoyed
"I will not kiss your fucking flag"
straightaway the silver bird looked grave
(departing hurriedly to shave)
but-though all kinds of officers
(a yearning nation's blueeyed pride)
their passive prey did kick and curse
until for wear their clarion
voices and boots were much the worse,
and egged the firstclassprivates on
his rectum wickedly to tease
by means of skillfully applied
bayonets roasted hot with heat—
Olaf (upon what were once knees)
does almost ceaselessly repeat
"there is some shit I will not eat"
our president,being of which
assertions duly notified
threw the yellowsonofabitch
into a dungeon,where he died
Christ (of His mercy infinite)
i pray to see;and Olaf,too
preponderatingly because
unless statistics lie he was
more brave than me:more blond than you
1931
Cheever's book is given some notice in this week's New Yorker. My main criticism of her book would be that she tries to maintain that 'back in Cummings day' people were not well informed about the dangers of alcohol, drugs and were oblivious to the benefits of exercise and a healthy diet (by way of an excuse for Cummings' bad habits it seems). Quite preposterous- Cummings lived through Prohibition and must certainly have been at least aware of such movements as the Boy Scouts! Such assertions work against her main thesis, that Cummings was a troubled man, a closeted homosexual, torn between his father's upright Unitarianism and the "new morality' which he championed but couldn't assimilate with any great conviction; half Brahman, half Loki etc., drank and took drugs to medicate an inner turmoil. She also recognizes Cummings tremendous talents as a performer, which better explains 'dewy-eyed' coeds than Paul Muldoon's series of apparently clueless questions.
ReplyDeletei sing of Olaf glad and big is in Carolyn Forche's "Against Forgetting: Twentieth Century Poetry of Witness"
ReplyDelete