Showing posts with label John Dos Passos. Show all posts
Showing posts with label John Dos Passos. Show all posts

Sunday, September 12, 2010

Dos Passos: Defender of Liberty

In “America and the Pursuit of Happiness,” which appeared in The Nation in 1920, John Dos Passos wrote that each person is compelled by “the duty of the individual to his conscience” which he argued was of greater importance than the citizen’s duty to his government (Wrenn 45). In this essay he further described the necessity of the individual to accept responsibility to act against abuses of government or “bullying mob.” This essay, one of Dos Passos earliest politically motivated writings, offers insight into the value the author placed on both personal liberty and responsibility. This autonomy of thought is evident in the trajectory of his association with the Communist Party. It was this independence which propelled him toward the radical movement, but which also elucidates the author’s increasing frustration, which led to his criticism and eventual rejection of Marxism. Dos Passos rebuffed efforts by the party to manipulate and control authors and their product, in terms of both content and form. He felt that a writer could only produce his best and most compelling work by remaining free of the stifling limitations whether in the form of literary tradition or political partisanship. In each format available to him, fiction, non fiction and his own personal actions, Dos Passos challenged and critiqued the radical movement and its attempts to organize and control its members. His mythic status as a literary innovator and active campaigner on behalf of leftist causes won the respect of critics, who were often willing to ignore weaknesses in his politics, attributing them to ideological immaturity or vestiges of his bourgeois upbringing.

Dos Passos represented what V.F. Calverton referred to in his article, “Leftward Ho!,” as the “radicalization of the American intellectual.”. In this article, Calverton explored the phenomenon of a growing number of Americans, who like Dos Passos, was elitist by birth but radical by choice. Calverton argued that this shift in ideology of the literati comprised of middle class intellectuals was significant because it indicated that the economic inequalities of capitalism were slowly creeping up and affecting the middle class and the “professionals” like writers, engineers and scientists, with greater and ever increasing implications for the “educated” masses. It was hoped that although Proletarian Literature was generally being directed toward the proletariat, it would also reach the middle classes who were just becoming aware of class inequities. It was also relevant to Calverton, because radical tendencies were becoming more commonly featured in the works of authors who were already recognized within the field of literature. He believed that this shift evidenced a “harbinger of the more ripened revolutionary thought of the future” (Calverton, Leftward).

In a 1925 article in The New Masses in which he reported on a labor dispute in Passaic, “Dos Passos reveals his self consciousness and embarrassment at being a middle-class spectator of working-class hardship” (Rosen 51). His writing shows awareness of the disparity between himself and the proletariat he was assigned to write about. He was regularly disparaged by others within the movement, including author and editor Mike Gold, as being a “burgeios intellectual.” Yet he recognized that he was in a unique position and had an obligation to document the experience, “he was directing himself specifically to middle class liberals and writing as one of them” (Wrenn 59) Dos Passos also used his voice as a contributor within the pages of The New Masses and The New Republic to make appeals directed to the sensibilities of the middle class liberal because he feared the potential for inhumane treatment in the struggle of the impending class war precipitated by the economic turmoil that was beginning in 1929. Though his polemics were initially met with suspicion and disdain, critic Granville Hicks reports in his article “The Politics of John Dos Passos” that eventually Dos Passos recommendations of “‘neutralizing’ the middle class became a major communist aim” (91). Despite the fact that he had refused to join the Communist Party of the United States of America, the credibility and direction he offered as an author, activist and Fellow Traveler was invaluable. Hicks wrote that regardless of his hesitancy to become fully committed to the organizational structure of the left, “Dos Passos was rendering a more valuable service to the Communist Party at the time than most of its members, for his prestige was great and his sincerity was unchallenged. No one had more influence of the leftward swing of the intellectuals in the early 30’s” (92).

Dos Passos was the product of a classical education at Harvard University and international travel through which he gained both broad exposure and perspective which resulted in his development as a writer, but also as a skeptical observer. He became increasingly alarmed by the exploitation, injustice and devastation caused by war which he witnessed in the United States and abroad. Beginning with his first attempt to write a novel, One Man’s Initiation – 1917 which was published in 1920, he began to use his fictional writing as a method of exploring social issues. Dos Passos earliest fictional works, including the novels Three Soldiers and Rosinante to the Road Again, express discontent with war and industrialism. Though generally considered technically weak novels, they demonstrated a burgeoning class consciousness that was promising to Marxian critics.

Dos Passos earliest novels are also notable for their focus on invention of style and increasing use of symbol and imagery which would later become prominently featured in his novels, especially the USA Trilogy. In “The Fiction of John Dos Passos” John D. Brantley discusses the development of Dos Passos early skills as a novelist which were increasing with each new work, but were also forecasting his invention of heavily image dependent motifs and strategies. Brantley offers a description of the “‘still’ image which momentarily freezes men in motion…he captures the image as well as the response of the character involved in it” (36). The cinematic style “freeze frame” allows Dos Passos the ability to control time and direct the reader’s attention to elements within the novel, privileging description over narration. Brantley also explains how Dos Passos uses “the images, usually involving or ending with a simile, show an increasing attention to mass and color….[which] blocks out the large masses of form and color and then adds the details” (36). The impact of visual representations within the novels, as well as Dos Passos growing attention to color and detail, is certainly attributable to his artistic endeavors as a painter and his extensive study of visual arts as a young man.

Biographer Townsend Ludington cites Dos Passos exposure to the Armory Show, which highlighted the works of contemporary modern artists, as a significant event which helped to shape the author’s conception of art and the role of the artist. The artists featured in the exhibit flouted traditional structure and sparked controversy with their experimental styles and techniques. These painters and sculptors cast aside the constraints of realist convention and attempted to shock the audience into a state of greater awareness by refiguring everyday objects and experiences. Dos Passos fascination with artists who challenged conventional methods also extended to the field of literature as was evidenced by his diaries which indicated an interest and appreciation for both French Symbolism and modernist authors.

Dos Passos traveled to Russia in 1928 to study the socialist system, but his encounter with innovative film director Serge Eisenstein had a profound impact on the development of his unique literary style. In the article, “John Dos Passos and the Visual Arts,” author Michael Spindler writes:
Eisenstein’s sweeping achievement …was to abolish the individualistic in favour of the collective hero, dispose with the story and plot, and put montage – the striking juxtaposition of shots – at the center of his film theory and practice. The films were historical and sociological in content, interpreting their country and it’s past. They demonstrated the artistic possibilities that lay within such sweeping themes as social and political change” (403). Spindler further argues that it was this encounter that allowed Dos Passos the freedom and encouragement to move away form the constraints of the traditional novel and continue the experimentation in style that he had begun with techniques like stream of consciousness employed in Manhattan Transfer and the cinematic stylings such as “still image” featured in Three Soldiers.

An amalgamation of literary, visual and cinematic influences culminated in the production of the U.S.A. Trilogy which is commonly recognized as a unique form of proletarian literature known as the collective novel. In Radical Representations, Barbara Foley writes that “certainly in the United States, and possibly in the entire sphere of literary proletarianism outside the USSR, Dos Passos is the single most important pioneer in the form of the collective novel” (425). Foley explains that the collective novel is characterized by three distinguishing features: emphasizing the group over the individual, the use of experimental devices which break up the narrative and the documentation of contemporary reality. Dos Passos structured the novels into four distinct sections: fictional narratives, biographies, Newsreels and Camera Eye. The construction of each of these sections within the novels further challenged convention. Narratives were presented in a non linear manner. Biographies featured phrases which were emphasized through italics or indentation, and parenthetical comments. Newsreels offered authentic documentary fragments borrowed from newspapers and popular culture. The Camera Eye, featuring stream of consciousness, has been characterized by critic Janet Galligani Casey as “an openly lyrical Bildugsroman, [which] traces the subjective development of the ‘real’ John Dos Passos as he personally experiences the events through which the fictional characters live” (250). Foley explains the function of “these devices which direct attention to the process of textual construction and invite the reader consciously to consider the paradigm the author has chosen for describing and explaining the social totality” (401). Dos Passos further challenged historical conceptions of the novel by creating a text without plot, using multiple voices and presenting unsympathetic characters that fail to achieve resolution. Even the actual words and their placement on the page function to disorient the reader as Dos Passos collapses language, uses repetition and experiments with punctuation and white space on the page. Modernist techniques and the pioneering use of montage distinguished John Dos Passos as an author who was able to revision traditional literary devices and create a new form of literature which would defamiliarize and cause readers to rethink societal structures.

As reported in the biography Twentieth Century Odyssey, Dos Passos was delighted and encouraged by the generally positive critical reviews of the 42nd Parallel. Mary Ross from Books and friend and critic Edmund Wilson offered praise filled reviews. Other reviewers had concerns or guarded praise for the techniques used in the novels. Henry Hazlitt had “reservations” about some of the elements in the novel but offered a favorable opinion of the documentary devices incorporated through the Newsreels calling it a “brilliant effect”. John Chamberlain’s review in the New York Times commented favorably on the theme of the novel, but he faulted the “unfinished quality of the work, had doubts about what he called the “trick stuff” – the Camera Eyes and Newsreels – and did not see any apparent indication of Dos Passos’s own philosophy” (Ludington 290). Dos Passos was encouraged that his work was having the impact and provoking the thought that he intended. He felt that the positive reviews, especially the private encouragement by friend and respected fellow author Ernest Hemmingway, validated the use of the unorthodox strategies he was employing to convey his ideas. He began 1919, which would become the next installment in the trilogy, with a renewed commitment to the style he had undertaken.

The novel 1919 was published in 1932 and received accolades from reviewers. Critic Robert Rosen reports that “the more militant 1919 brought Dos Passos greater tribute: V.F. Calverton placed him ‘in the mainstream of proletarian literature’ and Michael Gold saw him growing politically ‘like corn in the Iowa sun’” (90). Malcolm Cowley wrote that he believed that it was a “landmark of American fiction.” Henry Hazlitt who had previously offered a mixed review of 42nd Parallel, recognized the “social implications” of the novel and compared it with others by such respected authors as Hemmingway and Dreiser. Hazlitt opined that in writing 1919 Dos Passos had rivaled these authors and in some ways was superior to them. (Ludington, chapters 17 and 18).

Soviet Critics also began to take notice of John Dos Passos in 1930, and “for a time many critics considered him the most important contemporary writer of the non-Soviet world” (Brown 334). In his article “Dos Passos and Soviet Criticism” critic Deming Brown explains that during the early 1930’s there were significant restrictions upon the publication of non-Soviet writers. Texts which were published had to conform to “aesthetic, ideological and political” standards being debated and determined by the Russian Association of Proletarian Writers and later by the Union of Soviet Writers. Brown postulates that permitting the wide publication of Dos Passos texts indicated a “calculated political decision” on the part of the “communist party, which was assuming increasing control over all Soviet publication policy, [which] must have felt that Dos Passos, both as a political figure and as a writer, could develop into a valuable ally” (334). His activities within the United States added credibility which garnered much needed support and funding for leftist causes.

Despite the Soviet’s fascination with the possibility and promise Dos Passos offered, all of the critics expressed concerns over elements of technique and ideology within his work. From 1932 -1934 the author consumed the literary community and inspired passionate exchanges. For many his work symbolized the growing debate over the value of modernism versus social realism. Influential Hungarian critic Georg Lukacs argued that by describing, rather than narrating, the writer is inserted into the work, despite the claim that formalist techniques allowed for greater subjectivity. He believed that:
“the loss of the narrative interrelationship between objects and their function in concrete human experience means a loss of artistic significance. Objects can then acquire significance only through the direct association with some abstract concept which the author considers essential to his view of the world. But an object does not thereby achieve poetic significance; significance is assigned to it (Lukacs 131)
Critics Pertsov and Kirpotin defended Dos Passos experimental methods of mixed genres as means of depicting the chaos of the bourgeois lifestyle. Others, like Selvinsky, Leites and Stenich expressed concerns over the incorporation of elements such as the Camera Eye and Newsreels as “culturally decadent”, “immature” and an expression of Dos Passos “internal conflict” between his bourgeois upbringing and his communist yearnings. There was vast disagreement over whether or not Dos Passos should become an influential force upon Soviet proletarian literature.
These Soviet debates over Dos Passos reached a heightened level amid the decision in 1934 by the Congress of Soviet Writers to adopt the doctrine of “social realism.” The intent according to Brown was the “creation of a single guiding literary theory which … would be employed by all Soviet writers” (Brown 334). According to author Terry Eagleton, this principle promoted:
the writer’s duty ‘to provide a truthful historico-concrete portrayal of reality in its revolutionary development’, taking into account ‘the problem of ideological transformation and the education of the workers in the spirit of socialism’. Literature must be tendentious, ‘party minded’, optimistic and heroic; it should be infused with a ‘revolutionary romanticism’, portraying Soviet heroes and prefiguring the future.” (38). Many Marxist critics expressed hope that Dos Passos’ writing would mature ideologically and develop into a style more reflective of this dogma. Ultimately a consensus was reached among Soviet critics that it would be unwise to encourage Soviet writers to pursue further study and imitation of Dos Passos, because his ideology was not sound and could potentially lead to confusion amongst its writers. It was suggested that perhaps Dos Passos could benefit from “comradely advice” and influence. Though the Soviets had once eagerly anticipated the final novel in the U.S.A. Trilogy it was never published in the U.S.S.R. Deming Brown suggests that “this boycott of the author was an act of political reprisal. His opinions had ceased to suit the Communist Party and so publication of his works, and critical consideration of them as well, were officially terminated” (349).

Brown’s assertion that Dos Passos status and credibility was diminished within the Soviet Union because of his opinions was the result of the authors growing disillusionment with the Communist Party made public through the author’s writings and actions. Several events occurred which caused Dos Passos to question the motivation of the organized movement and to more skeptically consider his endorsement of the party. His resentment increased gradually, and may be tracked in his letters, essays and through the body of the U.S.A. Trilogy, especially 1919 and The Big Money.

In May of 1926 John Dos Passos was listed as one of the founding contributors to a new “worker’s monthly” called the New Masses, which he hoped would be a format which invited exploration and debate for ideas free from the power of Soviet influence. Again Dos Passos sought liberty free of interference, and envisioned the new periodical as a vehicle through which a more Americanized version of Marxism might be realized. In an editorial which appeared in second installment called “The New Masses I’d Like,” he voiced concerns that the Soviet Communist Party might overwhelm the newspaper’s ability to view issues free of bias. He cautioned:
I don’t think it’s anytime for any group of spellbinders to lay down the law on any subject whatsoever. Particularly I don’t think there should be any more phrases, badges, opinions, banners imported from Russia or anywhere else…Why not develop our own brand? (Wrenn 52). He viewed The New Masses as being most valuable if it could truly be a forum for discussion and debate about new ideas and beliefs and argued that the publication should serve as a “litmus paper to test things by.” He rejected the notion that the periodical should be constrained by any doctrine but should focus instead on the issues facing the working class. This is one of the first examples in writing of his concern that the Marxist machine was obscuring the needs of the individual. He believed that the in its purest form The New Masses would be a vehicle for “making contact with the masses, of learning their needs, and not of preaching to them: ‘Wouldn’t a blank sheet for men and women who have never written before be better than an instruction book, whether the instructions come from Moscow or Bethlehem, Pennsylvania” (Wrenn 64). His idealized version of The New Masses became unattainable as the Communist Party increasingly insinuated itself into the publication.

In the late 1920’s and 1930’s Dos Passos, along with other famous socialists, became involved in labor disputes and political cases within the United States. They hoped that their involvement would raise awareness and funds in defense of cases in which they felt social injustices had occurred. Dos Passos became a vocal defender in the case of the Scottsboro Boys and the also in the trial of Sacco and Vanzetti. In 1931 Dos Passos traveled to Harlan, Kentucky as a member of the Dreiser Committee to investigate the conditions of mine workers involved in a violent labor dispute. During this trip he felt as though the Communists were using the notoriety of “Bloody Harlan” to promote the party, rather than to improve the conditions of the workers and their families. His conversations with miners confirmed “that the Communists were concerned not with people but tactics” (Landsberg 169). Dos Passos was moved by the plight of the miners, and agreed to compile and edit the interviews and information for publication which was released under the title Harlan Miners Speak: Report on Terrorism in the Kentucky Coal Fields, but refused to be complicit in the party’s publicity strategy surrounding the events. Biographer Townsend Ludington writes, “Dos had some second thoughts about the way the Communist Party manipulated people and situations to further its own ends, so when Earl Browder, head of the Communist Central Committee in New York, wanted him to return to Kentucky and stand trial for ‘criminal syndicalism’ he refused” (Fourteenth 381). Though Dos Passos recognized the credibility his name lent to social causes which he supported, he was angered by the party’s lack of compassion and resented their attempt to use his image and notoriety as a propaganda tool.

In a letter recounting the events in Harlan written almost twenty-five years later, Dos Passos reflected on the event, “ I think…that my first real disgust with the commies appeared when I saw them in action in Kentucky in the coal strike. A conversation with Earl Browder ended it” (Landsberg 169). At the time, he confided to friends regarding the events surrounding his trip to Harlan as “annoyances.” Whether this was the pivotal experience which transformed Dos Passos view of the communist party into the “bullying mob” he referred to in the essay “America and the Pursuit of Happiness” is unclear, however it clearly changed his perspective and forced him to view the actions of the Marxist machine more skeptically. Despite his agitation, he remained publicly silent about his growing disillusionment for fear of “giving aid to the enemy.”

The novel 1919 was published in 1932, and though Dos Passos was credited for creating a communist hero in the character of Ben Compton, several elements within the novel may be interpreted as evidence of Dos Passos’ ambivalence during this period. Ben Compton is presented early in the novel, as a minor character in the “Daughter” narrative. The section describes Daughter’s exposure to a textile strike, but the exchange between Ben Compton and Webb Cruthers is telling. The Webb character functions as a foil for Ben, although this is not completely clear until Ben’s character is featured at the end of the novel. When the two men encounter each other, Ben asks Webb if he will speak at the gathering, but Webb hesitates, uncertain what he would say. Ben responds “talking is the easiest part of the movement. The truth’s simple enough” (1919 215).
The manner in which the two characters react to similar events within the scene are revealing because they imply Dos Passos generalized views of party members. When the meeting leaders reach the hall they are locked out by police and ordered to disperse, but Ben spontaneously climbs atop a lamppost and begins to speak to the crowd. When he is taken away by the police, Webb also mounts a perch and begins to address the crowd, but when he sees the police approaching him he flees. When Webb and Daughter have reached safety she accuses him, “you ran like a deer.” Webb then responds “Do you think I ought to have waited and gotten arrested like Ben,” he then dismisses her accusation saying “you don’t understand revolutionary tactics, Anne” (1919 217). In his book, Dos Passos’ Path to the USA, author Martin Landsberg writes that the representation of the strike is interesting because, “Dos Passos does not depict any strikes as portentous events, he views them more than humdrum aspects of collective bargaining…[they] provide a means of examining American society and studying character” (217). Though both men spoke out against injustice in support of the communistic beliefs, Ben nor Webb effected any effective aid for the striking workers. Webb was more concerned with tactics, and Ben, because of the publicity surrounding his arrest, simply became a propaganda tool.
As if to underscore the contrast in character of the two men, the next scene depicts Webb trying to pressure Daughter into having sex with him, first by discrediting any “bourgeois nonsense ideas about love” and insisting that “people ought to be free and happy about sex” (1919 218). When his words fail to convince her, he becomes abusive and violent. Webb is depicted as a communist who employs the ideology when it benefits him, but fails to grasp the humanistic ideals of communism. This point is further illustrated in the next scene when Daughter again accompanies Webb to a strike. When the danger of arrest and physical assault bears down on the strikers, Webb runs, and leaves daughter behind to fend for herself. More significantly, when a female striker falls, no one within the crowd goes to her aid – except for Daughter, who is driven not by tactics or party solidarity, but by simple human compassion. When freed form jail Daughter is approached by Ben Compton and congratulated her for her actions which though she is not a communist or expressed an interest in becoming one, even honorable Ben Compton seems to be more motivated by the fact that she had “made a very good impression in the press” (220).

The Ben Compton character is privileged in its presentation in the Daughter narrative as being, handsome, passionate and willing to sacrifice for his beliefs, but his depiction in the chapter which features him offers a more complex view of Dos Passos’ much praised communist hero. First, it is important to consider the placement of Ben’s narrative within the body of the novel. Unlike other characters featured in 1919, Ben is the only one whose narrative is confined to a single chapter. Ben’s evolution from the child of an impoverished working class family into a symbol of resistance is documented in twenty-two consecutive pages, offering a fluid depiction of the events which transformed his thinking and caused him to commit himself to communism. This chapter is framed by biographies of “Joe Hill” and “Paul Bunyan” which describe the lives of two American working class men – Joe Hill and Wesley Everest, who were victimized by the capitalist system, and sought relief through their involvement in organized protest. The activists both end up meeting brutal deaths for their beliefs, but both men also face their fates (in Dos Passos retelling) with words spurring on future activism. In 1919, Ben too faces the sacrifice of twenty years in prison (a lifetime to a twenty-three year old) for his beliefs. Despite the depth of conviction attributed to him, elements of doubt are indicated as he faces his sentencing before the judge:
The only moment Ben came to life he was when he was allowed to address the court before being sentenced. He made a speech he’d been preparing all these weeks. Even as he said it it seemed silly and weak. He almost stopped in the middle. (357).
Though Ben had been previously described the intensity emotion he received from public speaking, and been energized by the opportunity to share his beliefs, he begins to question his convictions and the efficacy of the movement when he realizes that if he is to be released from jail early it will be due to the movement’s efforts. Dos Passos closes the novel, published in 1932 as “revolutionary hero” Ben is imprisoned as workers continue to be exploited and the devastation of war continues. Dos Passos writing at this time lacks the optimism and “prefiguring of the future” characteristic of proletarian literature, it is unclear if this is a result of the fact that he intended the novels to be part of a trilogy at the end of which communism would prevail, or if his political doubts were guiding his fiction.
Granville Hicks relates another incident which occurred in February 1934, during which Dos Passos was again horrified by the tactics of the Communists. The Socialist Party sponsored a meeting at Madison Square Garden in support of the repressed workers in Vienna. The Communists “invaded” the meeting which ended in a “first-class riot.” An open letter was sent to The New Masses by a group of twenty-five, including Dos Passos, reprimanding the Communist Party. Hicks relates that The New Masses responded with a letter singling out Dos Passos from among the signers which they claimed was made up of mostly “renegade and stoolpigeons.” They addressed him directly, “‘You…are different. To us, you have been, and, we hope, still are, Dos Passos the revolutionary writer, the comrade” (Hicks 93). Hicks continues, that although Dos Passos discontinued his association with leftist publications following this incident, he still “made no denunciations of communism, but his disillusionment was great, and it grew rapidly” (Hicks 93).

In a correspondence addressed to Edmund Wilson in January of 1935 (as Wilson was preparing to travel to Russia) it is clear that Dos Passos continued to privately mull the flaws of communism, and to consider alternative solutions. In the body of the letter he apologized to Wilson for his diatribe, but explains, “I’ve been laying around clarifying what I would be willing to be shot for” (Dos Passos, Fourteenth 462). His continued travels had allowed him interaction with “Cubans of radical education” and from his discussions and observations he concluded that the Stalinists were “alienating the working class movement of the world” adding, “what’s the use of losing your chains if you get a firing squad instead?” (461). Just as he was deeply troubled by the destructiveness of World War I, so he began to decry the “massacre” in Europe which he attributed to the Stalinists. The letter also indicates his belief that Soviet communism was negatively influencing the CPUSA which as a result was continually moving further away from its humanistic aims:
I suspect that a vast variety of things are going on in Russia under the iron mask of the Kremlin, but I don’t think any of them are of any use to us in this country – if our aims are freedom and the minimum of oppression – because they are working out various forms of organization that our great conjunctions are also working out in a very similar way. While those forms were headed toward
workers’ democracy they were enormously interesting but since they have turned away from that…I would personally prefer the despotism of Henry Ford, the United Fruit and Standard Oil than that of Earl Browder, and Amster and Mike
Gold and Bob Miner"(461). He ends the letter stating that he felt like a young man again, searching for answers, but this time experience had made him even more perceptive and skeptical.

In 1935, shortly after the official adoption of “social realism” by the Congress of Soviet Writers, Dos Passos publicly challenged the dictates as a violation of the craft. Though he recognized the value of the words of the everyman, as evidenced by his desire to give voice to the proletariat in his idealized version of The New Masses, he believed that the value of the professional writer was demonstrated by his ability to “mold and influence ways of thinking to the point of changing and rebuilding the language, which is the mind of the group” (Dos Passos, Writer 79). In “Writer as Technician” he explicitly states his belief that the writer is an isolated figure who must remain free from the distractions of “even the most noble political partisanship in the fight for social justice” (Dos Passos, Writer). He argued that the author must be able to “give free reign to those doubts and unclassified impulses which that are at the root of invention and discovery and original thinking” (Dos Passos, Writer) in order to honestly convey the discoveries he has made about the world around him. This essay, intended for presentation at the American Writer’s Congress of 1935, railed against the immense pressure to manipulate the writer and his work. Dos Passos’ contribution to the conference was to be read, but was not received in time. Printed materials from the event were being prepared for publication and Dos Passos was contacted by Malcolm Cowley and asked to “clarify” or rephrase a portion which referred to “militant Communism”. His response to this request was documented in a letter written to Cowley in May, 1935 which in more personal terms expresses the exasperation he felt toward the movement which he believed had become misguided. He begins by vowing not to write any more of these “lousy statements,” which he felt were often misconstrued and his true intentions were lost in the minutiae. More significantly, he complained to Cowley:
….right now the issue is classical liberties and that the fight has got to be made on them. The reason I see no other ground is that I don’t believe the Communist movement is capable of doing anything but provoke oppression and I no longer believe that the end justifies the means – means and ends have got to be one … I don’t think the situation is improving in this country – the comrades are just parroting Russian changes of mood and opinion which shows their impotence up even more (Dos Passos, Fourteenth 477). Essentially Dos Passos believed that the American communist experiment, especially under the influence of the Soviets, had failed. Granville Hicks writes “out of his dual disillusionment, the ole quarrel with capitalism and the new distrust of communism, he wrote The Big Money…” (93).

The depiction of radicals within The Big Money, represented by the characters Mary French, Don Stevens and Ben Compton, is an indictment of the communist party. Mary French is introduced in this novel and is portrayed as a woman who is compelled to improve the lives of those less fortunate through her hard work and dedication. Like a young Ben Compton, during her formative years she was exposed to inequality and hardship. She works at Hull House and later as a reporter exposing the poor conditions of worker’s families. Her involvement with her “duties” cause her to lose contact with family and friends and her efforts become all consuming. Though Mary’s sacrifices are represented as brave and heroic, her convictions ultimately result in skewed priorities and failed relationships, among these is her relationship with Ben Compton. Upon Ben’s release from jail (not due to organized efforts to win his release, but because of Armistice Day), Mary provides him a place to stay and they become romantically involved. Though they plan to marry, Ben is constantly absent on party business. When she becomes pregnant, Ben convinces her that they must abort the baby, because their duties to the party must not be interrupted. Eventually, Compton is expelled from the party, though he indicates that “…it doesn’t matter, I’m still a revolutionist…I’ll continue to work outside of the party” (Big 539). This assertion by Ben indicates Dos Passos belief that party association was not necessary to the true revolutionary, who only required conviction and willingness to demonstrate his beliefs.

The portrayal of the trial of Sacco and Vanzetti, which Dos Passos had been so personally involved with, also indicates the authors shift in perspective of historical events. While the men were on trial, he had worked in concert with the communists to free the men, but the actions of Don Stevens in the fictionalized account belies Dos Passos altered view of events. Martin Landsberg explains:
In The Big Money Stevens’ attitude toward Sacco ands Vanzetti is almost as callous as that which Dos Passos describes the Communists as taking toward imprisoned [Harlan] miners in 1931. It is not an attitude that Dos Passos in 1927 saw as characteristic of Communists…When trade union officials, socialists, ministers and lawyers say this will lead to violence and may discourage a last minute commutation, Stevens says: ‘After allthey are brave men. It doesn’t matter whether they are saved or not anymore, it’s the power of the workingclass that’s got to be saved.’ …The difference between the treatment of the Communists in the narratives of Nineteen Nineteen (1932) and The Big Money (1936) is due to the political history…as well as Dos Passos own development” (220). Many have cited the involvement of the Soviets in the murder of Dos Passos’ friend Jose Robles in 1937 , and the subsequent cover up, as the event which ultimately terminated his association with communism, but a survey of his writing, especially during the period from around 1931 – 1936, shows increasing disillusionment and aggravation toward the radical movement. Dos Passos own moral code, captured in the essay written in 1920, required him to explore these concerns in his writing, for regardless of the threat – in the form of capitalism or “bullying mob,” be believed that the individual was duty bound to preserve liberty and expose any entity that would attempt to encroach upon them. Ironically, it was this love of independence (both literary and ideological) and authorial integrity which so captivated members of the Proletarian movement and gave him such power.





Works Cited
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Dos Passos, John. "The Writer as Technician." American Writers' Conference. International, 1935. 79-82. Print.
Eagleton, Terry. Marxism and Literary Criticism. Berkeley: University of California, 1976. Print.
Foley, Barbara. "The Collective Novel." Radical Representations: Politics and Form in U.S. Proletarian Fiction, 1929-1941. Durham: Duke UP, 1993. 398-441. Print.
Galligani Casy, Janet. "Historicizing the Female in U.S.A.: Revisions of Dos Passos's Trilogy." Twentieth Century Literature 41.3 (Autumn 1995): 249264. Jstor. Web. 12 Apr. 2010.
Hicks, Granville. "The Politics of John Dos Passos." Antioch Review 10.1 (Spring, 1950): 85-98. Jstor. Web. 24 Apr. 2010.
Landsberg, Melvin. Dos Passos' Path to U.S.A.; a Political Biography, 1912-1936. Boulder, Colorado: Associated UP, 1972. Print.
Ludington, Townsend. John Dos Passos: a Twentieth Century Odyssey. New York: Dutton, 1980. Print.
Lukacs, Gyorgy. Writer and Critic: and Other Essays. London: Merlin, 1978. Print.
Spindler, Michael. "John Dos Passos and the Visual Arts." Journal of American Studies 15.3 (1981): 391-405. Jstor. Web. 8 Apr. 2010.
Wrenn, John H. John Dos Passos. New York: Twayne, 1962. Print.

Sunday, December 20, 2009

Main CHaracter in the Margins: Homosexual Voice in The Big Money by John Dos Passos

In examining the U.S.A. Trilogy by John Dos Passos, critic George Becker defines two themes which are found throughout the series – the obvious “soulless drive for wealth,” and the more subtle “repression of dissent.” The latter may be exemplified by the political and social demonstration of disparate ideological views (socialism/capitalism, material/idealism, and collective/individual, etc.), as well as the challenge of societal conventions found throughout the novel. Becker argues that the separation from the conventional or accepted traditions subject characters who express themselves in non traditional ways or express radical views as targets of ostracism or marginalization.

Most critics of the novel The Big Money, including Becker, tend to read the character Tony Garrido as an extension of Margo Dowling or a subplot to her overall narrative. I would argue that Dos Passos is using the character of Tony, as a “closeted” main character to explore the dissent of the homosexual from social conventions, and its repression which is demonstrated internally and externally[RSB1] . Garrido’s embodiment of the theme of “repression of dissent” may in actuality define him as a significant character (perhaps more so than Margo). Both in the context of the story and in the technical method by which this character has been presented by Dos Passos, Tony’s sexuality relegates him to a marginalized status which effectively silences his voice. Tony is never able to directly broach the struggle his sexual identity causes him and the pain and difficulties he faces must be related only through the voice of others. The exploration of Tony Garrido’s experience is therefore hidden or “closeted” within the context of Margo’s narrative and the Valentino biography.

In Margo’s second narrative section in the novel, when Margo and Tony happen upon each other, they are both struggling to form their identity in terms of their sexuality. The young couple, she is sixteen years old and he is twenty-one, find solidarity and a level of newly experienced comfort in someone with whom they can share their frustrations and their dreams. Margo complains to Tony, describing the unease she feels because of her burgeoning sexuality. She recounts to him the harassing attention of the men who are interested in her - though she withholds news from him about being raped by her stepfather Frank. Tony also fails to disclose the secret of his homosexuality. Though unvoiced to Margo, Tony displays signs of distress regarding the sexual component of their relationship, as well as her conclusion that a marriage between them would provide the perfect escape (for her away from Frank and Agnes and the stifling boredom of the apartment and for him to the nostalgia of his childhood home of Cuba) which they both desire.

Tony clearly struggles internally during this period with the true nature of his homosexual desires and the societal pressures to seek out a conventional relationship. Tony responds timidly to Margo’s aggressive sexual advances, allowing her to take on the role of instigator. Despite her provocative actions which grow increasingly intimate by her design, Margo refuses to allow consummation by completing the sexual act, insisting on first being married and escaped from their present condition. Tony’s emotional outburst of tears and feigned indignation to Margo’s sexual advances would indicate extreme sexual frustration or a frightened lack of experience, they are in fact the first real intimations of Tony’s homosexuality, and the dueling urges which conflict him. Later references will indicate to the reader (and eventually to Margo,) Tony’s true sexual identity, but during their courtship he seems willing to participate by marrying Margo and attempting a more traditional relationship. Margo is the architect of the marriage plan, and though “he didn’t seem to like the idea very much” (146) he did nothing to dissuade his future wife.

Theorist Judith Butler argued that “Gender …is a construction that regularly conceals its genesis. The tacit agreement to perform, produce and sustain discrete and polar genders as cultural fictions is obscured by the credibility of its own production “ (903). During their engagement, Tony “performed” the role that was expected of him, in both appearance and deed. Tony and Margo were striking together, causing strangers on the street to remark, “my, what a handsome young couple” (146). Tony provided the anticipated protest when Margo refused to allow him to have intercourse with her, referencing male dominated cultural tradition, or machismo, identified with Cuban men. He also played stereotypical male roles by earning the money needed to carry out their plans and by being the decisive voice in the timing and execution of their wedding arrangements. Tony’s unease becomes evident as he plunged into a “compulsory heterosexual” relationship, which although he participated in and enacted, is not credibly based. The narrative catalogues Tony’s increasing discomfort and fear as they obtain a marriage license, register at the hotel as a married couple and secured the room , and their honeymoon suite – they use it for practical purposes of freshening up, and not for relieving the unrealized sexual tension.

Immediately upon marrying, Tony is affected by the external consequences of the denial of his nature. The unnatural carriage and composure of the couple belie the true nature of their relationship- causing the hotel clerk to doubt their marriage claim and demanding proof. When the newlyweds begin to drink champagne shortly after their wedding, effectively loosening his inhibitions, Tony begins to gradually insinuate his homosexuality, revealing that “many rich men like me very much” (148). His marriage and return to Havana are so unsettling to Tony that he becomes physically ill on the journey and Margo must assume the role of caretaker and protector which will continue through the course of their relationship. Though Tony experiences a sexual relationship with Margo, as is evidenced by her subsequent pregnancy, it becomes increasingly clear that he is dedicated to pursuing (or being pursued) by male companions. The nature of Garrido’s relationships with men like “el Senor Manfredo” are cloaked, falsifying their true intent. Tony presents these men as friends who are interested in helping him further his career. Tony demonstrates his confusion and dual allegiance to both his constructed heterosexual image and his homosexual yearnings by visiting the bedside of his pregnant wife while accompanied by his male “benefactor.” Margo’s reaction to the events unfolding around her are filled with denial, her arrival in Havana marks her realization that she will be unable to fulfill her dreams of happiness with Tony..” The nature of their incompatibility is unclear to Margo, even as Tony gradually reveals more of his authentic self to her. It is only when she hears the truth from her husband about his “secret disease” that she fully comprehends the situation.

Tony’s external characteristics and actions which distinguish him as homosexual develop throughout the course of the novel. Initially Tony is described in terms of his feminine features and mannerism – Margo initially marvels at his “long eyelashes brushing his pink cheek” (148) and his “polite bashful manners.” Despite his delicate description, there is no clear indication that he is other than a typical heterosexual male. This is further reinforced by the reaction of Frank when he learns that Margo and Tony are dating and he disparages Tony by identifying him as a “greaser” rather than using a sexual epithet. When Margo encounters Tony in Florida as she is preparing to cruise with her new boyfriend Tad, a dramatic change has come over Tony by extension Margo’s perception of him. Upon recognizing his “mincing” walk approaching, “the first thing that Margo thought was how on earth could she have ever liked that fagot” (216). Tony also develops a drug problem – which a modern reader may interpret as further evidence of the self destructiveness and inner turmoil caused by Tony’s conflicted sexuality. However in exploring “The Gendering of Addiction in the Twentieth Century,” author Mara Keire explains, “Cocaine was another signifier that some fairies adopted to distinguish themselves from conventional society. These fairies chose cocaine because, like their contemporaries, they associated drug use with femininity…. It was the association of drugs with fairies that informed John Dos Passos’s characterized Tony Garrido it was his addiction as much as his "mincing walk" that confirmed his homosexuality to his wife Margo Dowling. (Keire 3) Tony’s secret which he was initially reluctant to confide, becomes a very public presentation of self.
Dos Passos creates the character of Tony as the ultimate symbol of the outsider. Tony is a drug addict, out of work, effeminate foreigner. His delicate appearance, body language and mannerisms offer rebellious challenge to the image of the generally strong and powerful male ideal common in American in the post World War I era. Becker’s criticism of The Big Money relates several behavior patterns among the main characters, most significantly for this thesis, is that which the critic identifies as being “so prominent as to constitute a major theme, …an eradicable inhumanity, an intolerance toward all people and ideas in anyway offbeat” (Becker 9). The many distinctions which make Tony an outsider, also make him the object of scorn and contempt from other characters featured in the novel. He is railed against as being a “greaser,” “spick,” “fagot” and a “rat.” Becker writes of Dos Passos’s characters, that “this automatic consigning of aliens and oddballs to coventry leads to exploitation and violence” (Becker 9). Becker points to Margo’s harsh treatment of Tony throughout the novel, and while I would agree that she is lashing out at him for his homosexuality, I would suggest that she is demonstrating the confusion and internal struggle caused by the confusion which their complex relationship causes her – she loves him – even the characteristics which signify his homosexuality, and yet it simultaneously repulses her. Margo does regularly exploit Tony, treating him as a commodity that can be used when it benefits her, and dismissed when it does not. Tony is also the victim of violence or threatened violence, several times in the novel, In one incident he arrives on Margo’s doorstep bloody and disheveled explaining “A gang beat me up” (269). In another incident he has been beaten by his male companion, Max, who has threatened to “break every bone in his body” unless he is able to extort money from Margo. Finally, perhaps predictably, Tony is killed, his skull is fractured by a blunt object during a wild party rife with alcohol and narcotics, attended (according to newspaper accounts) only by men.
Dos Passos’s use of the Newsreel and (newspaper articles like the one recounting Tony’s death), and the biography sections may be read as a subjective voice guiding the reader’s attention to significant issues. The choice of biography subjects within The Big Money is often debated, but many critics have chosen to explore the importance of his choice of framing Margo Dowling’s narrative with celebrities Isadora Duncan and Rudolph Valentino. Rudolph Valentino’s biography in The Big Money is often described as Dos Passos’s critique of Hollywood manipulation and artifice, idol worshipping fans and the naiveté of the celebrity (Eduards 6-9). The Duncan biography is regularly distinguished by critics as the only use of a female in any of the 27 biographies presented in the U.S.A. Trilogy (Casey 7-9).I believe that the incorporation of the Valentino biography is as equally distinctive as the Duncan text, because the Valentino text features the only presumed homosexual in the biographical series, but also because it underscores the importance of the only defined homosexual figure in the novel. The similarities between created celebrity which Dowling and Valentino experience is certainly an issue which Dos Passos wished to explore, but I believe that framing Margo and Tony’s story with a character so remarkably similar to Tony Garrido points clearly to Dos Passos choice to highlight the challenges of gender identity and it’s implications.

Tony Garrido self identifies with Valentino, insisting upon his chance for success in Hollywood, that “if Valentino can do it, it will be easy for me” (314). The similarities between the Garrido and Valentino are notable. Both are foreigners who hope to find fame, and start out dancing in cabarets. Tony and Valentino were both “stranded on the coast [and] headed for Hollywood, worked for a long time as an extra.” (150).But the similarities between these men go beyond superficial details. Holding up these figures for examination, Dos Passos allows for contemplation of binaries prompting the reader to consider how as a society and a culture we tend to privilege one and scorn the other. Some of the binaries explored by an examination of the Valentino/Garrido characters are straight/gay, public/private, artifice/authentic, foreigner/citizen all of which are based on perception. This idea may be illustrated by reading Valentino’s biography which emphasizes dreams – both in the the dreams he had for himself and for his future, but also of the creation of this man of questionable sexuality becoming the “gigolo of every woman’s dreams ” (Dos Passos 150). This passage can be seen to represent both Valentino’s idealism versus the realism of his early struggles, but it also suggests the binary of artifice versus authenticism.

The most provocative elements of the Valentino biography for this examination are the veiled references to homosexuality and descriptions of the relationship to his wife, which can be compared to Tony’s relationship with Margo. Details of his divorce according to the biography entitled “Adagio Dancer” indicate that he and his first wife never slept together, implying a marriage of convenience which would allow him to assume the constructed image of a married man. This deceit allowed Valentino to fulfill the lustful fantasies of his fans, while providing a cover of privacy allowing him to follow other pursuits. Though Margo and Tony are never revealed to have been intimate after their time together in Cuba, they continue their legal marriage and remain a constant in each other’s lives. Another significant detail which emerged from this section is that Rudolph Valentino wore a slave bracelet given to him by his wife. It is an object that implies a delineation of power and control in the relationship. Valentino’s wearing of the bracelet suggests subservience to her despite his expected masculine domination. Though Margo does not offer Tony a slave bracelet, she similarly marks his subservience with a concrete object, “she made him wear an old chauffeur’s uniform when he drove her to the lot. She knew that if he wore that he wouldn’t go anywhere after he’d left her except right home and change” (Dos Passos 316). The uniform served not only as a physical marker of Tony’s inferior role, but it allowed Margo to exert her dominance by controlling his behavior.

Valentino’s biography also describes his collapse, emergency surgery and death from infection which is ambiguous in nature. Readers of Dos Passos’s era would have been familiar with the rumors which surrounded his death and which ranged from the innocuous suggestion that he had died from a burst appendix to the more scandalous accusations that he had been shot by a gay lover or that he had contracted syphilis and succumbed to an infection because of it. Tony’s venereal disease, which he spreads to Margo and their baby is featured as a prominent plot element. Similarly to the Valentino account, allusions are made to Tony’s “secret disease,” – it is only through knowledge of his activity and deduction by the symptoms whch confirms to the reader that Tony has contracted a venereal disease (and infected his wife). This rising action of discovery of Tony’s syphilitic condition and its resulting death of her infant daughter, prompts Margo to flee from Tony. Though she is aware of the disease and it’s potentially permanent complications, she refuses to seek treatment for some time – further demonstrating her denial of Tony’s behavior and how his behavior and its consequences becomes her “secret” as well.
Tony’s constant presence drives or alters the action in each of the Dowling sections, which further support the claim that Tony is truly a main character. The only section of the novel in which Tony is not represented is in the section describing Margo’s youth - although even in this introduction, an incident is described which indicates an attraction for and desire to protect effeminate men. She is awarded with a prize at a boardwalk game booth by a foreign man described in effeminate terms: “Margie thought he was lovely, his face was so smooth and he had such a funny little voice and his lips and eyelids were so clearly marked just like the dolls’ and he had long black eyelashes too.” Margo’s attraction to the game attendant is more profound and indicates her desires, “Margie used to think she’d like to have him to take to bed with her like a doll. She said that Agnes and Frank laughed and laughed at her so that she felt awful ashamed.” (133-134). Her youthful wishes to take this man as a plaything to her bed – though innocently voiced - certainly indicate a physical attraction to men whose signifiers would indicate a definite preference for effeminate men. Her desire to treat him like a doll and protect him also indicates a nurturing side – which is internally conflicted because of the shame related to this desire, and will form the basis of her relationship with her future husband. Though not present physically in this section, the issues which Tony represents and Margo’s response to them are markedly clear.

Dos Passos intentionally crafted this lonely girl whose upbringing is void of traditional or conventional gender roles – she grows up with an absentee father and a surrogate motherer figure with whom she cannot relate – to become an extension or anchor for Tony’s character. Margo’s upbringing is designed to make her sympathetic to Tony’s flawed judgment and inability to conform and which make it impossible for him provide her with stability and provide her with the idealized husband figure she desires. One cannot overlook the similarities between Tony and Margo’s father – both are men who desired to live a traditional life, but whose addictions and lifestyles made that impossible. Both men ultimately disappoint Margo repeatedly, but she continues to hold out hope for them. Tony’s unexpected arrivals and departures, as well as brief flashes of happiness and normalcy are reminiscent of the limited happy experiences she would have as a child when Fred would return home, brightening her world. In Margo Dowling II (192-201), though Tony has abandoned her in a foreign country while he is being pursued by his male “friends,” Margo lashes out and literally beats him into submission – after which they are being described as “happy and cozy for the first time since arriving in Cuba” (195). Later in the novel, Margo is confronted by her estranged husband who is ill and she makes the decision to nurse him back to health in her hotel room. His presence forced her to alter the room registration, “it made her awful to have to write it down in the book Mr. and Mrs. Antonio de Garrido. Once it was written it didn’t look so bad though” (218). Margo’s use of Tony’s last name when she registers at a modeling agency upon arriving in Hollywood and her incorporation of his family history and culture into her created image indicates an ultimate acceptance of Tony. Though she is still hurt and perplexed by his dalliances with other men, and horrified by his behavior which is marked by lying and stealing, Margo continues to stand by Tony.

The final section on Margo Dowling (303-339) ends with the revelation of Tony’s death described in a newspaper article which a relieved Agnes shows to shocked Margo. Upon learning of his death, Margo demonstrates the most emotional response she has had throughout the novel. “Margo felt the room swinging in great circles around her head. “Oh, my God “she said. Going upstairs she had to hold tight to the balustrade to keep from falling. She tore off her clothes and ran herself a hot bath and lay back in it with her eyes closed” (338). Immediately upon learning of Tony’s death, Margo embarks on a staged marriage trip with Sam Margolies and her transition to completely artificial construct is complete. Tony therefore may seem, troubled and a source of pain for Margo (who at times lashed out because of her internal desire to force him to conform), but was what defined her humanity.

Though Margo is presented as a main character, The Big Money presents her life story and rise to celebrity only in the context of Tony’s experience. It is significant that Dos Passos symbolically represented Tony in Margo’s earliest experiences, interwove him through her narratives and then related biographies framing her and that the sections narrating Margo’s experience come abruptly to an end upon the death of her husband.

Philosopher Michel Foucault recognized those who fell outside of the accepted norms of sexual and gender identity as “other.” Those who were deemed to engage in “unnatural” sex practices were identified by some as a separate “species.” (Foucault 896). Dos Passos recognized the social oppression faced by homosexuals in the early part of the twentieth century in America which made it impossible for them to proclaim their sexual identity without fear of vicious attack. The inability for the character of Tony to claim a voice and speak openly of the pain of the queer experience and the persecution inflicted upon him by an unsympathetic world is personalized for the audience, in a nuanced manner which would begin to prompt society to view those relegated to the status of “other” as humanized. Tony Garrido’s embodiment of the overarching theme of “repression of dissent,” which is so significant to Dos Passos marks him as a significant voice within this novel – though he seems to have no voice at all.


Works Cited
Becker, George J. “Visions…” John Dos Passos. New York: Frederick Ungar, 1974. Galenet. Literature Resource Center. Oviatt Library, Northridge CA. 29 April 2009. .


Butler, Judith. “Performative Acts and Gender Constitution.” Literary Theory: An Anthology. Eds. Julie Rivkin and Michael Rivkin. Malden: Blackwell, 2004. 900-911.

Casey, Janet Galligani. "Historicizing the female in U.S.A.: Re-visions of Dos Passo's trilogy." Twentieth Century Literature 41.16 (Fall95 1995): 249. MAS Ultra - School Edition. EBSCO. Oviatt Library, Northridge, CA. 29 Apr 2009. .

Dos Pasosos, John. The Big Money. Boston: Mariner Books. 1933.

Eduards, Justin J. “The Man with a Camera Eye: Cinematic Form and Hollywood Malediction in John Dos Passos's "The Big Money." Literature Film Quarterly. Vol 27. Iss 4. 1999. 245-255. Communication and Mass Media Database. EBSCO. Oviatt Library, Northridge, CA. 29 April 2009.

Foucault, Michel. “The History of Sexuality.” Literary Theory: An Anthology. Eds. Julie Rivkin and Michael Rivkin. Malden: Blackwell, 2004. 549-565

Keire, Mara. “Dope fiends and degenerates: the gendering of addiction in the early twentieth century.” Journal of Social History. Volume: 31. Issue: 4. 1998. Page Number: 809+. Questia. 27 Apr 2009. http://www.questia.com.





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