An Extensive Republic: Ch 9

How nice, that Andie Tucher would pick up right where Mr. Gross left off in his introduction. Gross ends his intro by pointing to the ironies of the statement "the more we knew about each other, the better we shall like one another." And without missing a beat, Tucher begins her chapter with the belief that "public discord, dispute, and division" are the fruits of a cohesive readership.

What struck me about this short chapter was this idea that the hopes and intentions of the Early Republic print culture did not at all align with the reality of the print culture. As Tucher notes, Americans "seemed" all too thrilled with the press as they "gathered in taverns and read together" and "treasured each issue as a key to a wider world and a solvent of their isolation." Like Gross stated in his introduction, and like Madison had hoped, the press was something that was supposed to unite the country.

This "hope" that the press would "unify a diverse and scattered people", like many other things, would eventually fall victim to a lack of money. Tucher constantly reminds us that the early newspapers and magazines were constantly fighting for their survival, and when times were tough, they usually turned to a "patron or a party with a particular argument to advance."

Reading these 20 pages of Tucher makes me think that just about every decision that was made with regard to print culture had to with money or politics: Country presses turned to political funding because they went broke; early magazines survived because of publishers' willingness to sell out to the more popular British literatures; politicians bribed and swayed newspapers to get votes; the penny presses made up false investigations to sway the opinion of middle-class readers. Weren't there any wholesome writers out there?

This quote about Gordon Bennet's coverage of the prostitute murder pretty much says it all:
"His paper's chief purpose was not to exhort a group to accomplish something, but to persuade a public to buy something. And that required a stance less of passion and commitment (and sometimes manipulativeness) than of validation and consensus (and sometimes manipulativeness)" (emphasis added).

Needless to say, this isn't the most uplifting or patriotic of the readings we've had this semester. What has happened to the good-natured, American Exceptionalism that Starr had me believing in? We've quite literally gone from the joys of reading, to journalistic manipulation of readers by people like Gordon Bennet. Either the American print culture took a horrible turn for the worse somewhere between Starr and Tucher, or we're seeing a great example of the ways in which history can be represented by two very different writers...I would have to side with the latter.

PS…I don't know if this picture is related (it may be), but I found it amusing enough to share with you all.

An Extensive Republic: Ch 1

I know you've all seen the movie Matilda. It's a childhood classic for most of us, and even if you haven't seen it, you've most likely heard it referenced in some conversation. As most of you probably know, it's a silly film about a little girl with psychic powers and a love of reading.

Strangely, I thought of a scene from this movie when reading Brown's chapter. I'm thinking of the scene where Matilda is sitting in her living room reading while her family watches a horrible game show and eats a TV dinner. Her angry little father--played by a never-better Danny DeVito--starts to yell at Matilda and condemn her for thinking that she's better than her family as she sits and reads. He thinks that she's a "snooty" little kid that thinks reading makes her smarter and better than everyone else.

I know it's an odd reference, and I could have probably made the same connection to a number of different films or books, but it was the first thing that came to my mind when I read lines like:

"through the act of reading, every individual could cultivate a sense of social superiority..." (70)

"men sought out secular books and magazines as markers of respectability…"(71)

"The patina of cosmopolitanism, which extensive reading had long supplied to the gentry, had a broad appeal for upwardly striving common folk"(71)

Even in the days of the Early Republic, reading had implications of social superiority. But it seems that back in the late 18th and early 19th centuries, reading was almost a requirement if you wanted to be considered a respectable member of society. As Brown says, if you just wanted to gossip or talk about the weather, you were considered "backward" and "inferior." In that regard, cosmopolitanism was a "goal" for many people, and achieving this type of social status through reading meant that you were a contributing member of society.

In a way, I see this ideology reversed in today's society. I'm not speaking of the worlds of academia, but just the normal, everyday culture that we partake in. Reading has become somewhat of a sign of arrogance. To be honest, I felt a little bit like Matilda during my undergrad years, and when I sat  in my living room reading Watchmen while my roommates watched Entourage, they felt a little like Matilda's dad.

Now, I don't speak for everyone, and that example is certainly a little extreme, but I think the basic idea applies to the ways in which reading has changed in recent years. Like we discussed in class a few weeks ago, to be "literate" in this country means to be able to navigate the web and read online. To be seen with a book in your hand is almost taboo. We've covered this topic in class on numerous occasions, but it's evident that there has been in a shift in what reading signifies to others: being well read used to mean that you were well-informed, respectable, and a contributing member to the new republic; today, other's may just think that you're a pompous jerk.

Back in the early republic, when reading and writing were means to an end to liberate a country and enlighten citizens, these connections seemed much more relevant. Today, these connections between reading and arrogance, or reading and social status, seem silly. Yes, I enjoy my books, and I'll continue to enjoy them, but here I am referencing Matilda while I watch the World Series in my pajamas…I don't exactly feel like The Most Interesting Man in the Universe (nor do I drink Dos Equis).

Wrong Reading!!!

Thanks Kandace for pointing out that I blogged on the wrong reading! Looks like I'm a week ahead…woops. So unless you want some major SPOILERS of next week's readings, don't pay attention to my last post.

Woops.

An Extensive Republic: Introduction

I'm going to have to echo Kandace's feelings towards the introduction of this book--a whole lot of facts, and a whole lot of boring. But part of me thinks that this is because I've been doing a lot of learning in this class. Had we read this book first, I would probably have found the information much more absorbing and new. In reading Starr and Davidson, I've absorbed a ton of useful infomration about the early republic's print culture, and this week's reading reaffirmed in me that I've actually learned something! I'm not saying that I' now an expert thanks to Starr and Davidson, but I'm certainly more familiar with this time period, and I have a fairly balanced understanding of the early republic.

That being said, I did find a few interesting nuggets of information in Gross's introduction. First is the way Irish and Scottish publishers "transformed the publishing landscape"(24). While Starr and Davidson touch on the influences of England on American print culture, I don't recall either of them mentioning the Celts. I am especially interested in how the Irish and Scottish performed their practice "in the name of American patriotism" (24). Gross touches on this point for only a brief paragraph, but I'm interested in the ways Celtic publishers influenced American print.

Another detail that caught my eye was they ways in which the American government saw the promotion of state-sponsred scholarship as an "aristocratic tradition." Gross writes, "The new republic put its faith in the extensive diffusion of useful knowledge to the many, not the promotion of arcane knowledge for the few"(33). As someone studying in the realm of academia, I find it fascinating that the early American government found it necessary to opposed the idea of a "learned culture." It's possible that there is some of this going on today, especially from right-winged pundits. There seems to be a sense that higher education and the culture of academia are out to promote left-wing ideology that disrupts the "democratic" ideologies our country was founded on.

Gross's mentioning of the "transportation revolution" really got my brain cooking. He notes all of the obvious developments in technology and transportation, but his reference to the telegraph adds a new dimension to the discussion. On page 34, Gross writes, "the telegraph…transcended physical distance altogether, 'annihilating time and space'…". I'm drawn to this idea that Americans had immediate access to information because I feel that these developments are directly tied to the growing conflict and dissent amongst Americans. When Gross cites the Columbian Herald and writes, "the more we know, the better we shall like another," I can't help but chuckle knowing that the exact opposite is true in some cases. The idea that accessible information was supposed to unite the country would backfire in the years to come, and it's evident that this principle still applies today.

And finally, I just loved the story about the farmer and his son arguing about tradition and change. It just reminded me of many conversations that I've had with my parents, aunts, uncles, and grandparents. I couldn't help but think of my grandfather saying when I was in grade school, "What the hell are they teaching you in those books" as I read in his living room. In one sense, the farmer (and my grandfather) were right--reading can be a way of detaching yourself from social interaction, and it does play a role privatizing one's life. This makes me think of the ways in which reading, television, the internet, and other forms of personal amusement have played a role in making American culture much more privatized and individualistic.

So, I guess this introduction had a little more to offer than I initially suggested. While the information felt quite familiar (which is probably what made it a little boring), it also allowed me to think of these ideas in new ways.