AMERICANS ABROAD
By Jim Burns
Sherry Mangan
I’m looking at an anthology,
Americans Abroad, edited by Peter Neagoe, and published by the
Servire Press, The Hague, in 1932. There are fifty-two contributors
and all the names one might expect from a book dealing with American
writers who spent time in Europe in what Neagoe refers to as the
“after-war period” are there: Henry Miller, Ernest Hemingway,
Malcolm Cowley, William Carlos Williams, John Dos Passos, E.E.
Cummings, Robert McAlmon and others. The histories and memoirs of
the expatriate experience provide information about them, and their
writings have often been reprinted.
But what intrigues me are the names of those who are no longer
remembered, and who haven’t had books and scholarly articles written
about them. What do we know about Virginia Hersch, Allan Dowling,
Muriel Draper, Ruth Jameson, Robert Sage, and Cary Ross? There are
notes in the book which indicate what and where they had published
prior to its publication. They were young then, so hadn’t appeared
in print a great deal. And recourse to browsing the Internet, or
finding their names on Abe Books, does sometimes indicate that they
went on to write novels, short stories, poetry, and other material
after their time in Europe. Hersch, for example, wrote several
novels, one of which, To
Seize a Dream, was based on the life of the French artist,
Delacroix.
One person who I have been able to track down in some detail is
Sherry Mangan, a poet, novelist, journalist, and follower of Leon
Trotsky, the exiled Russian revolutionary. Mangan’s contribution to
Americans Abroad is
called “Spot Dance” and consists of a series of short sketches which
focus on some of the inconsistencies and contradictions of personal
relationships. Earlier Mangan had edited a little magazine,
larus: the celestial visitor,
been involved with another publication,
Pagany, and appeared in
various magazines, such as
This Quarter and Poetry.
He had also published a novel.
Cinderella Married or How
They Lived Happily Ever After: A Divertissement, which,
according to Professor Alan Wald, reflected his experiences when he
was hired as a tutor by a wealthy Boston family. Wald also described
it as emulating the work of Ronald Firbank “too closely” in
concentrating on “some of the same precious, contrived, bored, and
lethargic characters”. A short story, “The Coat”, published in the
London Mercury in 1933
can be seen as dealing with people who, while not being wealthy,
want to be and are affected by their yearning for money and material
goods to the extent that the husband influences his wife into
committing adultery with a wealthy admirer who will buy her a fur
coat.
Mangan had published poetry, and his 1934 collection,
No Apology for Poetrie,
was described by one critic as “the latest book the intelligentsia
like”. As a Harvard graduate, and a poet, he associated with R.P.
Blackmur, Ezra Pound, William Carlos Williams, Robert Fitzgerald,
and others. He was a friend of John Wheelwright, a Boston poet from
a wealthy family who had turned radical in politics, and was
responsible for introducing Mangan to the ideas of Trotsky. Mangan
became a firmly-committed and active Trotskyist, something which may
have seemed incompatible with his career between 1938 and 1948 as a
journalist for firmly-capitalist publications such as
Time, Life, and
Fortune. But travelling
in Europe and South America as part of his journalistic duties no
doubt gave him an opportunity to maintain contacts with a variety of
Trotsky’s supporters. It’s
appropriate to note that when there was a factional fight, and a
split in the American Trotskyist group, Mangan followed James P.
Cannon rather than Max Shachtman, and helped form the Socialist
Workers Party.
In the early-1950s he turned away from direct political activity,
though without losing his commitment to the Trotskyist movement, and
tried to reconstruct his career as a creative writer. Some of the
poems and stories from this period can be found in a small book,
Blackness of a White Night,
published in 1987. What is significant is that, bearing in mind
Mangan’s involvements, there are few direct political references in
the poetry and fiction. A poem, “Activist Miliciano” relates to the
Spanish Civil War, and the long story, “Snow”, clearly has links to
Mangan’s own activities as a kind of courier for the international
Trotskyist movement. It’s set in the post-1945 period when it seemed
necessary to reconstitute an organisation, the Fourth International,
shattered by the events of the Second World War. Another story,
“Blackness of a White Night”, is based on an “affair with an
intellectual ……in the circle of Hannah Arendt”.
A third story, “Reminiscences from a Hilltop”, was published in 1957
in the final issue of Black
Mountain Review, edited by Robert Creeley, and mostly devoted to
Black Mountain and Beat writers. It would be interesting to know how
Mangan’s story came to be alongside them. It is worth noting that
“Reminiscences from a Hilltop”, and another story from the early
Fifties, “A Night in Scranton”, are inclined towards fantasy or
science-fiction in the way they extend reality into the surreal. And
in this connection Mangan had contacts with Surrealists in Paris in
the 1930s. It might also be relevant to mention that when the
Surrealists broke away from the Communist Party they moved
politically towards the Trotskyists.
The 1950s were, on the whole, not a good time for Mangan. They were
years when anti-Communism meant that prejudice was rampant against
anyone with even the slightest leanings in that direction. . As an
active Trotskyist Mangan experienced great difficulty in obtaining
work in the field of journalism. What little he published in the way
of stories and poems wasn’t likely to attract fees of any
consequence. And he devoted a lot of time to editing the Trotskyist
magazine, The Fourth
International, which was more a matter of commitment to a cause
than a way of earning a living. In addition his health was bad.
He moved to Spain and
lived in a small village, hoping to be able to live frugally, and
then to Rome, where he died in 1961, “alone, destitute, forgotten,
not quite fifty-seven years old”, to quote Alan Wald.
Sherry Mangan was a minor writer, and a political activist with a
small group which perhaps had little or no influence on wider
events. But he has always
fascinated me because of his dedication to both writing and
politics. His family background and education could have enabled him
to live differently, but he chose to involve himself with matters
that meant he would, out of necessity, exist on the sidelines.
As I said earlier, it’s the lesser-known figures in the
Americans Abroad
anthology that intrigue me. I doubt that very few people, apart from
a handful of scholars, know or care about Ernest Walsh. He was
described by Edward Dahlberg as having “all the fever of a
tubercular who knew his days were few”, and, although he was a poet,
is probably remembered mostly for his brief editorial role with
This Quarter, a magazine
he started with financial assistance from Ethel Moorhead.
This Quarter is now seen
as one of the key publications of the Paris expatriate scene and
printed work by Hemingway, James Joyce, William Carlos Williams,
Ezra Pound, and Djuna Barnes. Walsh was portrayed in Kay Boyle’s
novel, Year Before Last,
a fictionalised account of their affair. He died in 1926. The third
issue of This Quarter,
edited by Ethel Moorhead, was dedicated to Walsh and had a
substantial amount of prose and poetry by him.
And there is Wambly Bald. He had a story, “Dreary”, in
Americans Abroad which
had previously appeared in
The New Review, a magazine edited by Samuel Putnam, and was
about a couple of lesbians in Paris. Bald had led a colourful life
before arriving in the French capital, having wandered around the
United States and been a merchant seaman. He obtained a job as a
proof reader for the European edition of the
Chicago Tribune, where he
worked alongside Henry Miller and Alfred Perles. He is in Miller’s
Tropic of Cancer under
the name, Van Norden. But his main claim to fame is as the man who
wrote the lively and informative “La Vie de Bohème” column for the
paper between 1929 and 1933. Bald didn’t achieve much when he
returned to America later in the 1930s. He worked for the Office of
War Information during the Second World War, and then seems to have
been a freelance writer, living in Greenwich Village and
occasionally contributing pieces about his time in Paris to
magazines.
Mangan, Walsh, and Bald are just three of the forgotten writers from
American Abroad, and
there are others I could have written about. Emily Holmes Coleman
wrote a single novel, The
Shutter
of Snow, and had work in little magazines like
transition and
Seed, but published
little else due to her fragile mental state, though the novel has
been reprinted in recent years. Or there is Emanuel Carnevali, who
was published in This Quarter.
He suffered from a form of sleeping sickness, and was partially
supported financially by William Carlos Williams and Robert McAlmon.
An Italian-American, he returned to Italy in 1922, needed constant
medical attention, and died there in 1942. And Peter Neagoe, a
now-forgotten novelist as well as editor of
Americans Abroad. His
final book, The Saint of
Montparnasse, was a fictionalised account of the life of the
sculptor, Constantin Brancusi, who Neagoe had known in Paris.
I make no claims for the writers I’ve mentioned being major talents,
though Sherry Mangan deserves to be written about because of the way
in which he combined journalism, creative writing, and political
commitment in his life. But they all produced work of interest and
were a part of the overall literary scene of their time. And for
that they ought to be remembered.
NOTES
1. Americans Abroad
edited by Peter Neagoe. The Servire Press, The Hague, 1932
2. Alan Wald, The
Revolutionary Imagination: The Poetry and Politics of John
Wheelwright and Sherry Mangan. The University of North Carolina
Press, Chapel Hill, 1983
3. Sherry Mangan, Blackness
of a White Night: Stories & Poems, Arts End Books, Newton, 1987
4. Sherry Mangan, “Reminiscences From a Hilltop” in
The Black Mountain Review 7 ,
Black Mountain, Autumn, 1957
5. Sherry Mangan, “A Night in Scranton” in
New Directions 14, New
York, 1953
6. Sherry Mangan, “Coat” in
The London Mercury, London, April, 1933
7. Ernest Walsh, “Some of His Latest Poems and Writings” in
This Quarter 3, Monte
Carlo, 1927
8. Wambly Bald, On the Left
Bank, 1929-1933, edited by Benjamin Franklin V, Ohio University
Press, Athens, 1987
9. Emily Holmes Coleman, The
Shutter of Snow, Virago Press, London, 1981
10. Emanuel Carnevali, The
Autobiography of Emanuel Carnevali, edited by Kay Boyle, Horizon
Press, New York, 1967. Some of Carnevali’s poems can be found in
This Quarter 2, Milan,
1925
11. Kay Boyle, Year Before
Last, Faber and Faber, London, 1932
12. Henry Miller, Tropic of
Cancer, John Calder, London, 1963
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